I chuckle, but the lighthearted banter shifts into a heavier weight. Her smile falters. I watch as she realizes what she’s said, the tension building between us. We’re dangerously close to stumbling over the edge into territory neither of us is ready to name.
And the truth is, I can’t bewithher. Not officially. Not while Hallie’s shadow is lingering over everything I do.
“Well,” I clear my throat, “I’d never stand between a woman and her chips.”
The waitress appears, notepad in hand, saving us from the silence that threatens to swallow us whole. We place our orders, and when she leaves, Juliette takes a long sip of her drink, eyes fixed on a distant spot over my shoulder.
“So,” she says finally, setting her glass down with deliberate care, “tell me something about yourself I don’t know.”
I lean back in my chair, thinking about what to share. There’s a lot she doesn't know, but I need to play it safe for now.
“I didn’t always want to take over the distillery,” I admit. “When I was younger, I wanted to be a marine biologist.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, genuine surprise lighting her features. “Really? What happened?”
“Life, I suppose.” I shrug. No need to get all emotional about how it was my duty as my father’s oldest son to make it work because he was gone. Even at a young age, I understood the importance. I have absolutely no regrets.
She leans forward an inch. “I guess most of us have dreams that change or get set aside.”
“What about you? What did young Juliette want to be?”
Her lips curve into a nostalgic smile. “A writer.I used to fill notebooks with stories about magical worlds and brave heroines.”
“Do you still write?”
“Sometimes, though it’s more of a hobby now.” She traces the condensation on her glass with one finger. “Life has a way of redirecting us, doesn’t it?”
Her lips curl into a soft, thoughtful smile. There’s no way she realizes how breathtaking she is. It’s not just because of how she looks, though that alone would be enough to undo a man. It’s the way she keeps tucking her hair behind her ear, and the way those eyes never look away too quickly. There’s something about the way she talks like she’s not trying to be anything other than exactly who she is.
I admire it. I want to know what makes her laugh when no one’s watching. What makes her sad when she thinks no one sees. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say next. Because, the truth is, I’m already a little lost in the idea of knowing her.
twenty-four
KNOX
Ijust dropped Juliette off and am easing my truck into Finn’s driveway. The front door swings open before I even have a chance to get out. Two little voices ring out, slicing through the quiet neighborhood.
“Uncle Knox!”
They come charging at me like a stampede, tiny feet pounding against the pavement. I drop into a crouch, arms wide, ready for the chaos that’s coming. Sure enough, they barrel into me.
“Hey, you wee shites.” I grin, letting them take me down with no fight.
Their giggles are enough to make the look of exasperation on Elsie’s face worth it. “Sorry, Elsie,” I say, standing back up with the two boys still holding on to my hands. “I wouldn’t be the cool uncle if I didn’t teach them how to swear.”
Elsie shoots me a look, but there’s a smirk hiding behind it. “Mmhm. You’re lucky I like you.” She glances toward the house. “Finn’s in his study if you want to head in there.”
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to walkinto the house. The study door’s cracked open, and Finn’s hunched over his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Hiya, pal,” he greets without looking up from his computer. “Go ahead and sit. Give me just a second.”
I sink into the tartan-upholstered armchair, kicking back and letting my mind wander while he finishes up whatever he’s working on.
“All right, I have some news,” Finn finally says. “All of the travel dates you sent me line up with when Hallie was in St. Andrews, so our suspicion is looking pretty damn solid. I made a call to her attorney and asked for a meeting now that we’ve got this new piece of the puzzle.”
Son of a bitch.
“And?” I’m already bracing myself.
