They all smile, and I take my escape, entering my bedroom suite and heading straight to the closet.
Now what?
Caden
I’m sitting on a bar stool, watching the mixologist, a pretty dark-haired woman with dancing brown eyes and a warm smile, perform her magic. Here in Toulon, pouring drinks is called bartending, but apparently in the big city it’s an artform.
We’ve already gone through all the herbs Cat and I prepped for her, and we’ve had an extensive conversation on whether basil complements the rum or not.
I’m not sure who won, but it was an interesting discussion. Over the course of the day Amy’s done all sorts of things—infusing essences into tiny bottles, muddling herbs, crushing raspberries.
It was pretty fascinating. And it gave me something to do while I waited for Cat.
Everyone is here but her.
All of us guys are dressed in jeans, but through some unspoken female communication, all the women are decked out and gorgeous. In the richness of the tasting room, they look like they’re attending a modern-day Gatsby party.
Wyatt is sitting next to me and can’t seem to take his eyes off the lovely Hope. Although, he’s mostly glaring at her while she pretends to ignore him.
I chuckle, sipping a glass of water.
Gwen won’t let anyone drink anything, so our senses aren’t dulled when the cocktail menu rolls out.
Wyatt looks at me. “What?”
I shrug. “You’re gonna burn a hole in her.”
“Not my type,” he mutters.
“Sure, she’s not.”
“She’s one of those annoying, workaholic types.” His gaze darts back to her.
“A hot workaholic type.” ’Cause I’m helpful that way.
He turns away, swiveling back to put his elbows on the bar. “Not my type.”
“So you keep saying.” I laugh, dropping the subject. “You got time on Monday? I’ve got some ideas for the reserve cane I want to go over with you.”
“I’ve always got time to talk rum.” He shoots me a sidelong glance. “I miss it, you know? Working the crops, getting my hands dirty.”
I nod. “Price of success.”
“It’s true. We’re growing so fast now, I’m less and less involved in the day to day.” He waves his hand across the bar. “It’s hard to believe, considering where we started.”
“Life’s funny that way. Sometimes you can’t plan how things are going to turn out.”
“It’s what I wanted.” He tightens his hand on his glass. “Just comes at a price I didn’t anticipate.”
I hear him. Life has a tendency to zig when you expect it to zag. But I forget what I’m about to say as I catch sight of Cat in the doorway.
She’s wearing a black, sleeveless dress that clings to her body and makes me instantly hard. As I take her in, I wish the drinking would get under way so I can dull the edge of my need.
I keep waiting for her to give herself to me. To surrender.
But she’s been resistant so far, stubborn in her refusal to give in.
Of course, I could use the lust between us and overpower her, but that’s no longer good enough for me. I want her knowing and voluntary submission.
I’m making it as easy for her as possible, but I’ve underestimated her obstinance.
It’s getting to me, but my resolve is absolute.
Although, the sight of her in that figure-flaunting dress makes me determined to prod her along.
“I feel I should object to the way you’re looking at my sister.” Wyatt’s wry tone rips my gaze from Cat.
I raise a brow. “Are you?”
He shrugs. “Can’t be smart.”
Of course it’s not smart, but I’ve given up the good fight and am prepared to go down in flames. I don’t know how to keep good things, and she’s not going to be the exception.
I shake my head. “Never been known for my brains.”
Wyatt studies his sister, who hasn’t looked in this direction once as she’s made her way around the room, saying hello to the small pockets of people littered around in leather chairs.
He glances back at me. “Just promise we won’t lose you if things go south.”
I frown, thinking of the last time things went south. “I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Fair enough.”
The acquiescence surprises me, so I give him my full attention. “That’s it?”
His steely eyes, a shade or two darker than his sister’s, narrow. He contemplates Cat, then turns to me. “Our dad did the classic going out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back deal. My mom, she loved him too much, and it broke her. She died still wondering if today