“I don’t entirely know,” I answered honestly. “I remember sitting on my back deck thinking of names. I make my best decisions in my backyard, because it’s my favourite place to be.” I admitted, the truth falling freely. Something about being in her presence made both silences feel safe and oversharing feel natural. She’d always made me feel that way, as though my most ordinary and mundane thoughts were worthy of saying aloud. “There’s something about being among the sanctity of the trees which balances me, you know? And that day nature was clearly bringing the goods.” I said with a wink, testament to my lingering unease whenever I spoke about anything personal.
“Why whiskey?”
“Why not?” I responded, enjoying the way she frowned at myquestion. Eva was as predictable as those pesky numerals she loved so much, always preferring to ask rather than be asked. Pausing, she tapped her fingers against the metal racking, and I could tell she was calculating something. Her lips pursed as if chewing the inside of her lip helped her mind track whatever it was she was trying to solve.
Turning to me, her eyes widened. “Of course! Whiskey equals one hundred.” She gleamed excitedly.
“Uhhh, What? Can you show me the working out?” I asked, not even close to tracking her thoughts, but enjoying the sparkle in her eyes as she spun to face me.
“If you assign each letter of the alphabet with their corresponding number, the letters of whiskey add up to one hundred. It’s the perfect choice - complete, balanced, iconic.” She stared, clearly stunned, as if suddenly everything made sense.
“That is exactly why I chose whiskey.” I grinned, caught between awe and admiration. She worked it out in seconds, and the fact that I knew there was no chance she could be wrong made it even more impressive.
“Okay, tell me the real reason now, although it won’t be as good as that. I can’t believe it equals one hundred.”
“You’re such a numbers nymph.” The eyeroll she gave was as expected as it was adorable, and I squeezed her hand. God, I could be with her all the damn time and never get sick of the comfortability and ease.
“Your brother and I used to talk so much shit about what we would do and be and he always wanted to open a bar.” She nodded, having been with us so often, this wasn’t new. “Back then, we were sneaking whatever alcohol we could from my parents’ liquor cabinet and on this one night, I’d taken a bottle of bourbon for us to drink. It started as a joke, I think. But the more we planned - and probably the drunker we became - the more real it felt. And I think a small part of me loved knowing it was something my parents would have hated, which was always going to guarantee a yes from me.” Glancing over, she listened intently.There was no judgement in the way she studied my face and no follow up questions, only understanding and safety and it was enough for me to continue.
“So, we made a pact that I would brew all the alcohol for the bar Seb would run. Turns out brewing and distilling takes far longer than my fifteen-year-old brain could comprehend, and people don’t actually only drink whiskey,” I added dryly, “but we got there eventually. And having Solstice Mist on the shelves of Grey Petal for opening night was a dream come true for the both of us.”
I remembered the pride I felt in being there to watch Sebastian open the jazz and whiskey bar. So different from his city nightclub, Nexus, but a place we’d talked about and planned for over ten years. I also remembered the sickeningly loud love he had for Marlee and how, for the first time, seeing them so happy made me maybe want that too.
“You two were always going to do something together. And now I’m here too, annoying you both like I always did.” She smiled, but I sensed there was more to her words she wasn’t sharing.
“You were never annoying,” I replied honestly. “And I can’t believe I didn’t think of having you here earlier. Those ledgers were making no sense to me, and I’ve always known you were a wizard and would work it out.”
“You know what I love about whiskey,” she said suddenly, as if she hadn’t heard a word I said. “It’s math, really. Distillation ratios, aging times, temperature control. But watching you tinker with flavours or overhearing you personify the barrels as if they are people in your life - it doesn’t feel like math. It feels like the satisfaction I get when I bake. And I think that’s why I love being here so much. Because it proves that numbers and creating can make you feel, too.” She scrunched her face in thought. “Does that make sense?” The innocence of her question, her hand still warm in my own, her other hand tapping on her cheek as she pondered, was too much. In a world where all I heard was noise,she was my silence, and I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss the numbers right from her mouth because she levelled me in a way unlike anything else.
“That makes no sense at all.” I smirked through my words, laughing when her mouth dropped open in horror and she leaned forward to shove me. Intentionally overacting, I took a step back, only to pull her with me until she was close enough to wrap in a hug. Acting on instinct, I drew her to me and breathed her in, the earthy drops of lemon washing over me as I knew they would.
“Just kidding, Evy.” I spoke into her hair, giving her one last squeeze before I loosened my grip, only she didn’t take a step back, remaining firm against my body. Her arms moved around my waist slowly, intentional in the slight graze of her fingernails before she emptied her lungs on an exhale against my chest.
I ran warm - shirtless even in the dead of winter - and right now, that weird quirk of mine felt like the best damn thing about me. The press of her cheek against my skin set my heart pumping faster and there was no doubt in my mind she would be able to hear the effect she was having. We held each other in a quiet, fragile stillness, paralysed by the weight of what might come next. Murmurings and the occasional laugh not too far away, although it could have been only her and I, when with an unbearable slowness, she lifted her gaze, and my world narrowed to the depths of those mocha eyes.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Everything started and ended with her, and I knew I needed to taste her.
Workers, families, boyfriends be damned - we’d been skating around the growing tension for weeks and I needed her as much as I needed oxygen.
With little thought to consequences, I dipped my head toward hers, watching the way her eyelids closed in anticipation, her lips parting slightly as her chin lifted higher - and then came my name, clear and cutting, dragging us back to reality. Footsteps moving closer, the second calling of my name coming as her eyes opened and moved between mine with an underlying panic, onlyI didn’t let her go. Everyone here was under the assumption we were engaged so getting caught wasn’t an issue other than it wasn’t necessarily professional, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was the damn boss and if that came with any perks, I was choosing this one right here. Plus, I wasn’t ready for her to retreat. For the armour to move back in place and the vulnerability of only a moment ago, to disappear like sand through fingers.
“Oh, sorry, boss,” our intruder said, “whenever you’ve got a second.”
I nodded at Donald, one of the old boys I’d had on the payroll since I first opened, but not before I grinned at the way his cheeks flamed red. When I turned to look at Evangeline, hers were a matching shade which only made my smile grow.
“We’ll be the talk of the distillery,” I mumbled, my eyes still glued to her mouth as I reluctantly took a step to the side. “The only thing Donald loves more than whiskey is gossip.”
“Thirteen,” she whispered, and instantly I knew she’d calculated the number of letters in both of those words. “Just my luck.”
“I will never understand the intricacies of your mind, Evy.” I said, as I reluctantly headed towards the end of the aisle, doing my best to maintain a composure I was not even close to feeling. I’d been about to fucking kiss her - consequences be damned. And I was sure she was going to kiss me back, which only fucking confused me more. But separate to that being forced back to the normality of the daily happenings so suddenly meant that little moment we’d just shared, was over far too quickly.
I wanted to follow her example and ask all the questions racing through my mind, but the idea felt so unfamiliar, so out of character, that just imagining it made my palms twitch. I’d wanted her company, but being near her clouded my thoughts and blurring the lines was starting to come too easily.
Too naturally.
“We’ll continue the tour another time.” I called, before I rounded the corner. She was still standing there, watching mewalk away with a look I might have analysed, if only the whole fiancée act weren’t a lie. Because those eyes were full of heat and having her look at me that way was almost enough to make me close the whole fucking distillery just so I could have her alone. So, I could finish what we were so close to starting and do things I’d never dared to voice aloud. Things which would get me more than a few punches from Sebastian. Things that kept that ring on her finger for real and had her moaning my name like I’d imagined on many occasions.
But Donald’s interruption was a blessing because I needed to stop ignoring the fact Evangeline had a boyfriend. Even if I still couldn’t quite believe it. The thought instantly dampened any joy I’d been feeling and replaced it with the same blanket of irritation which seemed to follow me like a shadow lately.
