He smiles at my gentle teasing and switches glasses. My fingers brush against his warm skin. More butterflies careen through my stomach. I rein them in. This man is not mine, and I won’t accept attention from any guy just to stave off the loneliness.
“Your girlfriend probably appreciates it.” There. I put it out there. A reminder for me—and for him.
His brow furrows, and a shadow passes over his face. “I think she’s enjoying someone else’s wild side.”
My fingers tighten around my glass. “What?” Who would do that to Durban? I have a special hate for cheaters.
“At least it’s probably not with my cousin, so there’s that.” His smile is tight. “She broke up with me.”
“Oh.” He’s single? Those butterflies aren’t forbidden? This moment between us doesn’t make me on par with Stanford? More importantly, it doesn’t make Durban similar to my ex. “Were the jokes that bad?”
His chuckle is soft. “I don’t think they helped.” He tips his head toward the whiskey in my hand. “Go through the process again. This is stronger and older. More hints of oak will come through.”
Message received. He’s done talking about Natalie. Even if he’s telling the truth, I’m not on the dating market. I have a job to do, a career to reignite, and family land to get back.
I swirl, gently inhale with my mouth open, and sip. The liquid tingles along my tongue, and I roll it around. I look into his deep-brown eyes, losing myself in their fathomless depths. “I taste cinnamon.”
“Good girl. That’s the American oak.”
Praise from him should put me on the defensive, not make me want to strip down, but knowing he’s single only makes it worse. Laughter from the tasting room reaches us, and I shoot the drink back before I can think twice. I’m also single, and it’s for a damn good reason.
“They’re getting to you.” It’s not a question.
“Yes,” I hiss. “It’s going to be a long four weeks.”
“All this to look like the bigger person?” His gaze strokes over my face. I’m open and raw, but his proximity is soothing.
“They’d do it anyway. In the end, my only revenge is to look unbothered, and that’s hard to do on the sidelines.” I set the empty glass down and shoot the other one. Warm whiskey coats my insides, and I close my eyes. “Besides, each time I’m in the same room as them, January has to be wondering if he still loves me. She has to wonder if he’s checking me out when she’s not looking. When I walk by, she has to question how well he remembers me naked and sucking his dick.”
I open my eyes. Tension is scribbled across his face, and his pupils are wide. He’s focused on my lips.
“That’s gotta be a mindfuck,” I say, my voice husky. The stiffness in my limbs is melting away as the small amount of alcohol I drank soaks into my veins. “And I hope it’s a special hell for her. I hope that no matter how much she tells herself that he chose her, the thought of me still taints her wedding.”
Several moments tick by. Did I go too far? Does he think I’m demented and that I’m not at all the bigger person? I’m a childish, selfish girl when it comes down to it. I’m scorned, and I want some retribution.
“Good girl,” he says again and drags his gaze up my face to meet my eyes. “And I can assure you, Campbell, that he very much remembers you sucking his dick.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Durban
I drive down the road to the lodge. The tasting with Stanford and January was only a few days ago, and instead of dreading the family dinner, I’m struggling to stay under the speed limit.
Images flash through my head as quickly as the countryside. Her pink lips on the glass. The sounds she made when she tasted the whiskey. Her questions. She was curious, and fuck. I liked sharing my knowledge, and when the attractive recipient is equally interested, well... it’s hot.
I just got out of a relationship. It can’t be a coincidence that now I’m undeniably single, my lust has attached to Campbell like the most powerful Velcro in the world. I’m not ready to dive into something with anyone, and I might be learning more about Campbell, but she’s not my type.
I’m not hers. If she goes for the Stanfords of theworld, then I’m not the guy she’s looking for, and she’s likely not looking for anyone at all right now. The upcoming weeks will be her reason to stay single, and after that, she’s still got a career to build.
We don’t belong together. Knowing that, I can control myself.
I’m coasting down the long drive to the guest lodge. A woman is swaying on a black Morgan, Hailstorm. He’s one of the most requested horses the guests use. Impressive looking when he’s freshly brushed, and a giant teddy bear with a penchant for treats, he’s a perfect guest horse.
The woman’s hair is tucked under her cowboy hat, but I recognize the flare of her hips. Campbell’s in jeans, and the strong muscles of her legs are evident, gripping the sides of Hailstorm. I’ve never been envious of a horse before.
Time to flex that control. No ogling Campbell. But I can wonder what the hell she’s doing. Tonight, we’re deep in the wedding bullshit. What’s she doing out for a pleasure ride?
I slow even more and roll my window down. Hailstorm’s tail swishes.
