Love in Numbers: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Love Distilled Book 1)

by Scarlett Cole

  “So, what? You are going to quit and walk away from all this over a woman?” his father spat, suddenly standing. “No son of mine would be that foolish.”

  Connor scoffed. “Are you kidding me? This whole thing…this whole stupid issue is because you quit and walked away from Dyer’s Gin Distillery over Rebecca Dyer.”

  His father stopped in his tracks. “What did you say?”

  There was nothing left to lose. “I know, Dad. How you were in love with Rebecca Dyer, but she was never in love with you.”

  “I don’t…that’s not…” His father’s face burned red as he blustered.

  “There’s no point arguing. I’ve seen the proof. I know you invested ten thousand dollars because you hoped it would help buy her affection. And I know that you ripped up the check when she tried to pay you back and returned it to her.”

  All the life seemed to leave his father’s body, and he slumped to the chair. “I should have cashed that check,” he muttered.

  Connor’s anger slipped away, and he sat down, too. “It was never about the money,” Connor said. “Was it?”

  His father waved away the question. “It was a long time ago, Connor. The details fail me.”

  Of course they didn’t. The man wouldn’t have held on to the grudge for so long if they had. “No. They don’t, Dad. And I get it. I really do. To answer your question, yes, I would walk away from all this for Emerson. Not just a woman, but the woman for me.”

  “So, now the Dyers will take my son as well as my money.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Connor remained calm and took a breath. He’d fought his father many times, and he knew that his father’s natural response was to deflect. “No, Dad. Emerson isn’t taking anything away. You made the ultimatum, Dad. You took my pass away to make a point that you could take all of this away from me if I didn’t end it with Emerson. And overnight, I realized two things. I don’t care, and it’s actually the right thing for me.”

  His father lifted his head. “What do you mean, it’s the right thing for you?”

  “Taking that chair you’re sitting in right now was all I’ve ever let myself focus on. You pushed me, steered me, and somewhere along the line, I bought into the lie that it was what I wanted. I was wrong. It was what you wanted for me…no, it was what you wanted for yourself. But I realized that I need to try something else. Something new. I want to build something.”

  “You can build businesses here,” his father said, panic in his voice. “We talked about this. The acquisitions.” It was clear, in spite of everything, that his father had never intended for Connor to leave the business for the long-term. This had all been a petty attempt to keep him in line. To remind Connor how much he owed.

  Connor shook his head. “Not as long as you’re still here. We don’t have the same vision or set of ethics on how to treat family and employees. And even if we could somehow get past that, I wouldn’t come back as long as Cameron is still here. He crossed a line this weekend, and I’ll never be able to trust him. I won’t work in a situation where my every move is questioned. To be honest, even if you told me that you would retire today with no provisions for my uncle, it still wouldn’t be enough. This isn’t what I want to do.”

  “So, you’re really going to quit and walk away from all this over a woman?” Incredulity etched his father’s face.

  “No, I’m going to resign because I want something more for myself. This whole thing with the distillery, with Cameron, and you staying on…it just made me realize that it isn’t what I want.”

  “And what do you want, son?”

  Connor’s chest squeezed at the affectionate term that had come too late to be of any value. “The truth is, I don’t know. Something smaller, I think.”

  “And the Dyer girl? Do you want her, too?”

  Connor grinned. He knew the answer to that question. “Please. Call her Emerson. And I do, more than anything. The jury is still out on if we’ll be able to get past this. Cameron’s trick may have done irreparable damage.”

  His father paused. A long, deep sigh escaped his lips. “I’ll find out who broke into your office and mailed that to the Dyer—to Emerson.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Look, I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch. I’ll make sure I do a proper handoff. And if you decide to act on replacing Cameron, I’ll help find a replacement.”

  Donovan looked crestfallen. Losing his son, and potentially his brother, wouldn’t be an easy burden to bear. “Was she happy?”

  “Emerson? No, she was pissed and tore me a new one.”

  His father smiled sadly. “I meant Rebecca. Did Paul give her a good life?”

  Connor’s heart ached for his father for a moment. In the early hours that very morning, he’d felt a sense of panic that he’d not be able to make things right with Emerson. To feel that way for the rest of his life would be horrific. “Yeah, Dad. He did. They were good together. Loved each other. Loved their kids. And Paul never attempted to find another woman after Rebecca died. Emerson told me he once said that he’d had his one chance at true love with Rebecca and that he’d never been able to get his head around replacing her.”

  Donovan swallowed deeply. “Good,” he said gruffly. “That’s good.”

  A realization hit Connor. What was it his mother had said when he’d spoken with her about their divorce?

  I always felt like I was second fiddle. I sometimes think he married me on the rebound from that darn distillery. And the way he threw himself into his work at that time left him with no time or energy for me, or for us. He was a husband and father in name only.

  It wasn’t the business he’d rebounded from. It was Rebecca Dyer. His mother would never need to know.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. About Rebecca. I get it. I worry Emerson isn’t going to get over this.”

  Silence settled over the room. He wondered what Emerson was doing right now. She was his next stop, but he knew he couldn’t go see her until he’d righted this part of his life, this part of his story, first. He needed her to know that she had nothing to worry about from his motivations.

  All he wanted was to love her.

  “I suppose I should meet her at some point,” Donovan said eventually.

  Connor stood. “I’d like that, Dad. You’ll really like her. From what I’ve heard, she’s very much like her mother.”

  His father stood and walked over to him, reaching for his hand. “In that case, I wish you luck in fixing things. I hope she listens to you.”

  “Me too,” Connor said, shaking and then releasing his father’s hand.

  Because he couldn’t imagine another hour without her in his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emerson pulled up outside Connor’s building and stared upward in the direction of his apartment. She’d sat alone with her thoughts in her office for a little while after her meeting with Jake and Liv.

  Words hadn’t come when she opened her phone to find messages from Connor about wanting to meet up with her. He’d thoughtfully stayed away from the distillery but had offered to meet her wherever she wanted.

  His place was close by. It was private. No more spying from Connor’s dubious uncle.

  While she’d be safer in her home, she needed somewhere to retreat to if the meeting didn’t go as she hoped.

  She stepped out of her car and locked it, straightened her jacket, and walked into the building. As she entered the elevator, she thought of the night they’d spent together just last weekend, of the way he’d kissed her in the very spot she now stood. She’d never look at the mirrored walls the same way again.

  Nerves fluttered in her stomach like trapped butterflies trying to escape, and goddamn if her palms weren’t a little bit sweaty.

  The door to his apartment loomed down the corridor, and the walk down the gray carpet felt like the length of a mile. As she approached, she took a deep breath to steady herself, then knocked firmly.

  Footsteps grew louder as he walked toward the door, and Emerson�
��s butterflies grew proportionately with the sound.

  “Hey,” Connor said, pulling the door wide open so she could pass by. He reached for her but then pulled back. “Sorry. Habit. We should talk first.”

  He looked as unhappy as she felt, and her first thought was how wonderful it would have felt to be wrapped in those strong arms of his, to rest her face against his chest while he held her.

  “I agree.” She placed her purse on a hook by the door as she had gotten into the habit of doing.

  Emerson walked to the living room and sat down on the leather sofa.

  “Can I get you a drink? Wine or coffee or something?” Connor asked, rubbing his palms down the front of his jeans. Perhaps he was as nervous as she felt.

  “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  Connor joined her on the sofa, sitting close enough that she could feel the warmth that always emanated from him, but not close enough that they touched. The vibration was still there. The one she always felt when they were in each other’s orbit, the thing that had made everything feel so goddamn magical.

  “How are you?” Connor asked earnestly. He studied her eyes and bit his lip as if concerned.

  It wasn’t glib small talk; Emerson could tell the difference. “Not the greatest twenty-four hours of my life, not the absolute worst, but close.”

  Connor put his arm along the back of the sofa. If she leaned into the cushion, his fingertips would be able to reach the ends of her hair. She loved when he played with it while they watched TV together.

  “I’m sorry. For all of it. I confronted my dad this morning.”

  While she hadn’t had any expectations of how their conversation would go, she hadn’t expected that. “What did he say?”

  “He confirmed what you found out. It was never really about the distillery, it was always about your mom. He loved her, even though it was unrequited. More than he loved my mom. I think that’s why their marriage failed. My mom is an incredible woman, but she wasn’t the person my dad wanted to be with. My father was desperately unhappy.”

  Emerson’s stomach flipped. “That’s so sad, for everyone involved.”

  Connor shrugged. “Perhaps. Your mom married who she was meant to. Mom’s happy with Derek, and he’s the right guy for her. It’s just Dad.”

  He reached for her hand, laid his fingers on hers, and the buzz of connection was just as strong as ever. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He pulled his fingers away again. “It’s just…you’re here, which I am so fucking relieved about. And the last time you were here, it was the night we went to dinner, and we came back here, and…well. It’s like memory and habit and…I just want to hold you, and I want you to hold me back. And I wish I could go back to the beginning, to the airplane, and start this all off differently.” Connor leaned forward and placed his head in his hands before running his fingers through his hair. “I resigned today.”

  Emerson, still reeling from his emotional outburst, couldn’t hold in her surprise. “What? Why would you do that? I hope you didn’t do it for me?”

  Connor shook his head. “No, I did it for me, Em. Well, mostly for me. And some for us. Spending time with you, getting to know you, and Jake and Liv, and what you do at the distillery, I realized I’d never really gotten to build something from the ground up. I’d been programmed since birth that I was going to take over the family business, but unlike you and Jake and Liv, I’d never been asked if I actually wanted to. It had always been assumed.”

  Connor got up and paced along the blue rug he’d made love to her on so thoroughly only days before.

  “And then my father decided he was going to stay on for another five years, and my uncle showed his true colors because it was him who sent you that document. And I could have stood and fought for the company to be better, but I couldn’t find the energy. I’d lost respect for my dad, and even if I got what was mine, then what? I’d be running a company I wasn’t passionate about. Not like you are when you talk about your work.”

  Emerson huffed. “Hardly. I’ve been bouncing from one catastrophe to the next since we met.”

  Connor came back to the sofa, sitting so close their knees and thighs touched. This time he did grab her hands, holding them firmly in his. “But don’t you see, Em? You held on with Liv and Jake. You found a way. You picked yourselves up. And together, you’re working on a way out. Because you care. Because you’re damn good at what you do. I fucking admire that.”

  His words hit her firmly in the chest.

  Had his actions been reckless? Yes.

  But had they really done any harm? No. Not to her or to the distillery.

  And he cared for her, passionately. He respected her. He recognized her need to rebuild Dyer’s. To protect Liv and Jake. She inspired him. He accepted her fully, as she was, slightly flawed, still learning, still a work-in-progress.

  Before she could stop herself, Emerson leaned into him and their lips met furiously. Connor’s hands slid to her face, into her hair, holding her in place as his tongued explored hers.

  “Fuck, Em,” he gasped, before kissing her again. “I’m so sorry.”

  How had she thought she could live without this in her life? How had she considered that she could let a man who held her in such high regard go?

  “Wait,” Connor said, his voice straining as he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. “As much as I want to fucking devour you, I can’t until I know this is all squared away. Make-up sex and break-up sex are two decidedly different things, and I need to know which it is we’re about to have.”

  Emerson bit down the smile that threatened. “It’s make-up sex, Connor. But you’re right. There are still things we need to discuss.”

  Connor ran a hand through his hair. “Thank fuck for that, Em.” He took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

  All of her insides were churned up. And she banked the need to slide her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans. “You said you quit. What do you intend to do now?”

  Connor’s eyes were hooded as he looked at her, his chest inflating and deflating at a rate far faster than normal. She was glad he was as breathless as she was. “I’m fortunate to have time to figure that out,” he said, finally. “I have savings, a decent network, some active investments that pay monthly. It’s not enough for the long-term, but it means I can be selective. I think I need to take my time and decide.”

  “And your father knows there’s no way on this green earth that I’ll sell the distillery to him?”

  Connor nodded. “That’s a definite yes.”

  There was one last thing that was bothering her. Perhaps it was too soon in their relationship for it to be an issue, but she needed to know. “Does he know about me? About us?”

  Now it was Connor’s turn to smile. “He does. I told him this morning how much you mean to me. He suggested it might be time for the two of you to meet.”

  “And your mom?”

  Now, Connor laughed. “I told her about you the day after Halloween. I said I’d set something up for this week but then time kind of got away from me. Is there anything else you need to know, or is now when I get to lay you down on that rug and finish what we started because I’m really fucking ready to do that again?”

  Emerson stood and slipped off her jacket as she backed away from the sofa in the direction of the bedroom. “The rug got painful after a while, and I don’t intend for this to be over quickly. Make-up sex should take a while.”

  Connor stood and ran a hand along his jaw. “See, I disagree there. Make-up sex requires fire. Passion. Urgency.”

  She slid her fingers to the buttons of her blouse and began to pop them open slowly. “Everything comes to those who wait.”

  Connor stepped in her direction, a slow and steady prowl. “What if I’m not a patient man?”

  The way he looked at her made her want to melt, to strip her clothes off and to hell with the burns of the stupid blue rug.

  Emerson slid her blouse down her s
houlders and let it drop to the floor. “Who says we only get to do it once? We could do fast, then do it slow.”

  “Are you negotiating with me again, Dyer?” He reached for his belt, sliding it through the belt loops before dropping it on the sofa.

  “I intend to make negotiating with you a permanent habit,” she said. “Just putting you on notice.”

  Connor grinned, then suddenly leaped for her, pinning her against the wall, his hard erection pressed up against her. “I just remembered something,” he said, placing a row of kisses behind her ear.

  The sensation made her knees weak, and she was grateful for Connor’s weight keeping her pressed to the wall. “What is it?” she gasped, aware of just how breathless her words sounded. He did that to her. Caused her to lose control.

  “This. You and me. It’s a permanent thing, right?” Connor stopped kissing her and stepped back a little, giving her breathing space. He placed his hand to her cheek. “I’m serious, Em. This. Us. It’s going all the way, right? Not today. Not right now. But we’ll get a place together. We’ll get married, someday. Kids, if we decide we want them. I want more than make-up sex. I want a commitment that you feel the same way I do. That from the moment I lay you down on my bed, we’re building a future.”

  He held her gaze as he spoke, and she felt every single word.

  “I want that, too,” she whispered. “All of it. I was worried it was too soon to say it.”

  Connor leaned forward and kissed her. Slow, deep, drugging kisses. The kind that turned her to mush. “From the moment we met, you’ve never had a problem saying what was on your mind to me. Don’t start now.”

  Emerson smiled. “You are never going to let it go that I sat in your seat, are you?”

  Connor bent forward and swept her into his arms.

  “Never.”

  Epilogue

  Snow was beginning to fall hard as the last truck pulled out of the distillery on Christmas Eve. Deliveries that would make their way around the country in time for New Year’s. Emerson ticked the last order off the list and sighed with relief. Stan had left half an hour earlier. She’d sent him home because there was no point in both of them waiting for the truck to leave.