Page 80 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘Right.’ Aaron raises an eyebrow at Reyes. ‘I hope you’re looking forward to what you’re going to learn today as well. It’s a developmental excursion, not a piss-up in a brewery.’

The choice of words and neutrality of his tone leave us all a bit stunned, as well as wondering whether he’s trying to crack a joke or is deadly serious. He takes in our bewildered faces, then continues.

‘You do realise that there’s a test on what you learn today, once you’re back at work. The hotel isn’t just funding you to go on a jolly.’

We look from him to each other, unsure whether to laugh or make for the housekeeping storeroom to stock up on the hotel’s embossed pens and notepads.

‘I’m joking, obviously.’ Aaron tries for a light-hearted chuckle, but it sounds more like a cat being strangled. ‘Just go and have fun. But try to learn something useful you can bring back here too.’

‘What? Ha, Aaron, you had us there.’ Amir starts to laugh, more out of relief than enjoying Aaron’s attempt at a joke.

The rest of us join in with similarly appropriate comments.

‘Off you go then.’ Aaron smiles a little less rigidly than usual at us.

‘All right!’ Josh exclaims. ‘Let’s do this.’

‘I call shotgun!’ Amir whoops, clearly forgetting he’s in the presence of the General Manager.

He and Josh race out of the bar, with Aaron calling after them not to run in the hotel. He turns back to me and Reyes.

‘I hope you enjoy your day, ladies.’

His tone is sincere, but there’s something about the look he directs at me specifically that makes me slightly uncomfortable. Almost as if he’s saying, ‘Really, that guy?’ I look away, embarrassed; all too aware that the way Josh just behaved has highlighted the age gap between us in neon pink.

‘Thank you, Mister Gardiner.’ Reyes smiles warmly at Aaron.

‘Yes, thanks,’ I add. ‘We’ll make sure it’s a worthwhile trip.’

‘I’m in no doubt of that.’ Aaron gives us a brief nod, then strides back out of the bar, leaving Reyes and I to follow after the guys.

‘We will be having fun today, yes?’ She searches my face. ‘I am sure you can do this.’

‘I hope so.’ I shrug non-committally. ‘I wasn’t off to the best start there with my reaction to Josh coming, was I?’

Just over an hour later, we drive through the gates of the countryside gin distillery in the Scottish Borders, with ten minutes to spare before our tour is due to start. It’s a large old stone building that looks like it was once part of a farm. A large sign by the gates, framed by trees with leaves of fiery red and burnt orange, introduces it as Greenlaw Gin Distillery. Josh parks the car and we pile out, commenting on how fresh and pleasant the air is, and enjoying a few moments of basking in the bright autumn sunshine, before crunching our way across the gravel in the direction of the entranceway. Josh walks beside me, while Reyes and Amir are a few steps in front. As they vanish around a corner, following the signs to the entrance, Josh grabs my hand and pulls me back.

‘Josh, what are you—’

He pulls me into him and plants a long sensual kiss on my lips before I can even finish my sentence. At first, I try to pull away, too conscious of the fact I’m on a work-related outing. But his hold on me is tight, one of longing, which despite my initial discomfort, makes me melt into him, feeling the same desire. I can taste the saltiness from the bag of crisps he was eating in the car on his lips.

‘Are you two lovebirds coming, or what?’ Amir has reappeared around the corner, having clocked our disappearing act.

Josh and I pull apart.

‘You did say to enjoy ourselves,’ I mutter, trying for a casual shrug, but my flaming cheeks give my lingering unease away.

‘Well just don’t enjoy yourselves too much.’ He raises an eyebrow cheekily. ‘I don’t want to see anything I can’t unsee. Or… maybe I do…’

‘Hey! Behave!’ I feign indignation.

‘Let’s go, beautiful.’ Josh grabs my hand and hauls me round the corner after Amir.

As I allow him to lead me down the path, I feel like a naughty teenager on a school trip. It’s certainly not how I’ve conducted myself in the past and I’m definitely not completely comfortable with it.

We reach the entrance and walk into a small reception room. A cheery man wearing a kilt, with wild red hair, cheeks to match and a tenor-style voice greets us, vigorously shaking each of our hands in turn.

‘Welcome. Welcome all. You must be the group from the Mayfield Hotel?’

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