My belly clenches and I’m ready for him again. Yet as much as I thrill at his words, they’re a reminder of what we really are. Nothing but a wedding and a whiskey bargain.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Durban
Outside Iverson’s pickup window, puffy, white cumulus clouds float across the sky. With the Baldwins out of town, Kacey’s with her grandparents and Jamison’s resting while we meet. So Iverson is driving us to town. Instead of meeting with the guys at the distillery, we’re getting out for the afternoon. Normally, we’d do this Monday when we’re closed, but Elodie also closes the bakery on Monday and we have to talk to her about some collaboration ideas.
My gaze keeps snagging on the clouds. Plump, just like Campbell’s lips after she got done coming. Hot blood starts pumping lower in my body. Her breathy moans kept me up all night. I jacked off in the shower last night, and then I had to do it again this morning.
I’m not looking for another relationship, but I’m beyond ready for exploring Campbell.
There are no wedding activities until next Thursday.The luncheon. It’s taking place in the pavilion if the weather holds out. How am I going to get Campbell alone to take the edge off?
Did what happened in my office help her get through the rest of the tasting?
Haven said the group was uptight as hell until he got some drinks flowing through them. Then they were just obnoxious. He also cited some tension between the couple when Stanford kept glancing at the spot Campbell vacated when I dragged her upstairs and settled myself between her thighs.
A guy could live his entire life in that paradise.
“Hey, buddy.” Iverson squints at me before shifting his attention back to the road. “You still with me?”
“I’m right here.”
“In body only. Where’s your mind been?”
“Lots of stuff in the works.” I let him fill in the details so I don’t have to lie to him. I’m dreaming of stripping down his sister-in-law and burying myself inside of her.
“The rafting thing?”
“That and the wedding.” And how I’m going to get Campbell to myself. Should I tell her to skip underwear before the luncheon?
“Hell of a thing, but I hate to say Campbell might be onto something. William said he hears Stanford and January bickering more.”
“How so?”
“Jamison talked to her mom last night, and Christine heard January snap at Stanford. She demanded to know why Campbell has to be at all the events.”
“She’s the one organizing what they want to do.” Asangry as I want to be toward January, a chuckle still bubbles up. “Nothing’s even gone wrong.”
“All except for a few rain delays that make Stanford scramble to figure out what the hell to do to get close to Campbell.”
I sit straighter. We’re almost to town, but I need to finish this conversation now. “You don’t think she would get back together with him? If he and January don’t make it to the altar?”
“Nah. She has more sense than that. More than anyone gives her credit for.” He gives me a sidelong glance.
“I give her credit.”
“Sure.”
I give her more credit now. I want to give her a whole lot more. “Fine. I’ve seen how hard she works, but you can’t blame me for judging her based on some earlier interactions.” I blame myself.
“You wouldn’t have written off someone you considered more cerebral. You didn’t write off Natalie.”
“She’s older, for one. Finishing her second PhD.” She might be done. What do I know about graduate school timelines? The thought tastes bitter on my tongue.
“I know she is. You want to know how I know?”
I shake my head.
