“Since we’ve decided to expand the distillery to include—”
I’m cut off whenBaby Sharkblares from the speakers. What the hell? This presentation isn’t connected to music.
“I don’t know, Zane. Sloane may enjoy pictures of you splashing in a bubble bath as a baby, but I don’t think it’ll sell many bottles of whiskey.”
At Rhett’s comment, I whirl around to look at the slideshow. Instead of my mock-ups for commercial ads for whiskey, there’s a picture of me as a young child racing into the living room naked.
Eli stands and switches off the presentation. He slaps me on the back as he passes me. “Good to have you a part of the team, brother.”
I scan his face for any signs of sarcasm, but he’s being serious. I open my mouth to tell him I’ve always been a part of the team but I slam my mouth shut before I can utter the lie.
The truth is, I haven’t always been a part of the team. I made sure to finish my work on time, but I wasn’t here. I was gone as often as possible. Even if I was here, I didn’t participate in the management of the company. Not in the way Eli envisioned when he founded the distillery to ensure all of the Raider brothers could stay on the island.
But things have changed. Since Adele arrived in my life, my priorities have changed. Canyoning in the Philippines doesn’t hold the appeal it once did.
Now, I can’t wait to go home and spend time with my baby and Sloane. Those two are what’s important.
Chapter 32
“Small-town rule #1: kiss a Raider in public, and the island knows before you do.”
Sloane
Iglance one last time in the mirror. No lipstick on my teeth? Check. No smudged mascara? Check. Jewelry, hair, shoes? Check. Check. Check. I’m ready.
Excitement buzzes through me as I exit my bedroom. Correction, my former bedroom. I’m now sleeping with Zane every night. But I dressed in here because I wanted to surprise him with a sexy outfit for our first big date.
"Whee-oo,"Zane whistles when I reach the living room. He motions for me to twirl around and I do.
He catches my wrist and draws me near. “You’re sexy, sweetness. But you can’t ride my bike with a skirt on.”
I push away from him. “Not a skirt.” I kick one leg out. “It’s a jumpsuit.”
His gaze roves over my outfit.
“Are you studying how to get me out of this?”
He shrugs. “You can’t blame me for being curious about what kind of bra you’re wearing.”
The jumpsuit has a deep v top. It’s impossible to wear a bra with.
I bite my bottom lip and look up at him from beneath the lashes. “Maybe I’m not wearing a bra.”
He groans. “You’re killing me.”
I smirk. “Goal achieved.”
“Come on, sweetness. We need to leave now if we’re going to make our reservation.” He hands me a leather jacket. I don’t complain how the jacket doesn’t go with my outfit. I don’t want to freeze on our way to the restaurant.
Once we’re both dressed in leather jackets, he threads his fingers through mine and leads me outside. His motorcycle is already parked in the driveway.
“This is exciting! I’ve always wanted to ride on the back of a bike.” I jump up and down. My breasts bounce with the movement but I’m too excited to care.
He moans. “Stop jumping. Riding a motorcycle with a hard-on is painful.”
He adjusts himself in his jeans. My core tightens in response. Not wearing a bra was definitely the right choice.
“Maybe we should skip dinner.” My voice comes out all breathy since I’m imagining all the ways we could spend our time if we don’t go out.
