Page 30 of Beyond the Hate

She’s adorable when she’s confused. Her nose scrunches up and her pretty pink lips purse. I want to run my tongue along her lips until she opens on a sigh. I’d thrust my tongue into her mouth and taste her. I’ve spent years wondering how she tastes.

“Dakota’s teasing,” I explain.

Paisley studies me for a moment before shrugging as if it’s all no bother to her one way or another. She can’t fool me. But I let it go. For now.

I stand and round my desk. “Have a seat.” I motion to a chair as I lean against my desk. “What brings you toBuccaneer’s Whiskey & Distillery?”

She steps in front of the chair but she doesn’t sit. Not my Paisley. She’s too stubborn to allow herself to sit while I’m standing. Usually, stubborn people drive me crazy but not Paisley. She drives me crazy but in a way I could easily become addicted to.

She fiddles with the hem of her t-shirt but when she notices me watching, she stuffs her hands in her pockets. “I’ve come here to discuss the possibility ofFive Fathomsbrewing beer in your facility.”

I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. If Paisley is near, I can grind her down until she tells me why she hates me.

“Don’t gloat.”

I hold up my hands. “Not gloating. But I am relieved you’re accepting my help.”

“Relieved?”

“It would be a shame if the bars and restaurants of Smuggler’s Hideaway were unable to carryFive Fathomsbeer.”

Her face is full of mistrust but I ignore it. She’s being forced to accept help from her enemy. Her pride must be hurt. I understand how pride can get in the way of help.

My brother, Miles, is the perfect example. His stubbornness makes me want to shove one of his surfboards up his ass until he learns to listen.

She straightens her back. “We need to discuss payment.”

“Payment?”

She waves her hand. “Payment for the use of your facilities. In addition to rent, there will be utilities and water and—

My growl cuts her off. “You are not paying.”

She fists her hands on her hips. “I’m not accepting charity.”

“What’s wrong with accepting help when you need it?”

Her nostrils flare. Uh oh. I poked the beast. Considering how her cheeks flush and nose scrunches making her usually pretty face appear beyond gorgeous, I may poke the beast more often.

“You’re not being charitable. You’re rubbing my nose in your wealth.”

I’m about sick and tired of her claiming I’m showing off my wealth.

“How?”

She slides her glasses up her nose. “How what?”

“How am I rubbing your nose in my wealth?”

She flings her arm wide to indicate the distillery. “You have this fancy schmancy distillery and our brewery is merely a microbrewery.”

“Your microbrewery closed a deal to supply one of the largest grocery chains in the US.”

She rears back. “How do you know?”

“It was all over the financial news.”

She drops her chin to her chest. “Oh.”

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