“Now that everyone is here, we can discuss the matter at hand.” His father nodded toward Lianna, and she handed out bound presentations.
“As you can see, we’re here to discuss adding fruit brandies to the King’s Finest Distillery lineup—a venture Dad, Max and Zora have been pushing for some time.” Duke nodded in their general direction. “I think the company and the market are in a good place now for us to explore the possibility.”
“Excellent.” His sister beamed. “Would this be a permanent addition to the product lineup?”
“I’ll only commit to a limited-edition trial.” Duke frowned slightly. He always did what was best for their family-owned distillery. But Zora—the youngest and the only girl in a family of four boys—was still his “princess,” and his father hated disappointing her. “But if the numbers support it, as with the special-edition moonshines we introduced a few years ago, I’m willing to discuss making the line permanent.”
“Bourbon is what we’re known for,” Parker, also known as Negative Ned, chimed in. “Won’t adding other liquors to the lineup dilute our brand?”
Parker wasn’t being argumentative. He was painstakingly methodical and questioned everything. It was the way his intricate mind worked.
Zora rolled her eyes and folded her arms, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Pepsi sells several types of soda, water, tea, juice and energy drinks. It hasn’t damaged their reputation as a top beverage company.”
Parker thought about Zora’s words for a moment, then nodded sagely. He scribbled on the ever-present pad in front of him and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Good point. Go on.”
Duke fought back a chuckle, then continued.
Max should have been riveted by the conversation. After all, this project was one he’d been fighting for over the past thirty months. Yet, it took every ounce of self-control he could muster to keep from blatantly staring at the beautiful woman seated directly across the table from him.
Peaches. Or rather, Quinn Bazemore. Dixon Bazemore’s granddaughter. She was more gorgeous than he remembered. Her beautiful, deep brown skin looked silky and smooth.
The simple gray shift dress she wore did its best to mask her shape. Still, it was obvious her hips and breasts were fuller now than they’d been the last time he’d held her in his arms. The last time he’d seen every square inch of that shimmering brown skin.
Zora elbowed him again and he held back an audible oomph.
“What’s with you?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” he whispered back.
Maybe he wasn’t doing such a good job of masking his fascination with Quinn.
Max opened his booklet to the page his father indicated. He was thrilled that the company was ready to give their brandy initiative a try, even if it was just a test run.
He understood why Mr. Bazemore was there. His farm had been providing the fruit for the brandy and would continue to do so. But that didn’t explain the presence of his ex.
* * *
Quinn shifted in her seat beneath Max Abbott’s heated stare. She refused to glance in his direction. She wasn’t here to flirt with the handsome-as-ever Max Abbott. She’d come to King’s Finest Distillery for two reasons: to help save her grandfather’s farm and to build a case study for the consultancy she’d launch as soon as the farm was on stable ground again.
It was a venture she’d mused about as an undergrad. But she’d settled into a comfortable public relations career instead. Until six months ago, when she’d found herself out of a job and unable to work in her field within a fifty-mile radius of her home in Atlanta.
With no immediate plans, she’d packed up her condo and accepted her grandfather’s invitation to their family farm just outside of Knoxville, where she’d spent her summers as a kid.
Just until she figured out her next move.
The excitement of helping her grandfather establish important strategic partnerships revived her interest in her forgotten venture. So she’d dusted off her business plan, plugged in the holes and improved on it. Now she needed to build her portfolio while she waited out the remaining six months of the non-compete clause in her employment agreement with her former PR firm. Then she’d return to Atlanta and launch her new practice.
This proposed partnership with the world-renowned King’s Finest Distillery would be the cornerstone of her growing portfolio. So if that meant pretending not to be affected by the man who’d broken her heart and crushed it into minuscule pieces without so much as a backward glance, she’d suck it up and do just that.
If Max could behave as if that summer between them had never happened, so could she.
Duke was explaining that they would begin the venture with apple-, peach-and cherry-flavored brandies, and that all of the fruit would be sourced from Bazemore Farms.
Quinn’s heart swelled when everyone in the room applauded. She was relieved no one had objected to making her grandfather’s farm the sole source for the fruit. It was a sweet deal for the farm, which had been struggling in recent years. Partly because of a shift in the market and how difficult it had become to get solid, reliable help at a price the farm could sustainably afford. Partly because of the shady accountant who’d taken over the books after her grandmother’s death several years ago.
“This will be a co-branded product, something we’ve never done before. A partnership that was brokered by Dixon’s lovely granddaughter, Quinn.” Duke gestured toward her. “She’s here in her capacity as an executive of Bazemore Farms, but she’s also a collaboration expert. We had a fine chat last week about some of her innovative ideas for quickly getting this venture to market. Quinn.”
“Thank you, Mr. Abbott.” Quinn stood, pulling a stack of presentations from her bag. She walked around the table, placing one in front of each person as she explained how she’d created lucrative partnerships between clients in the past.
“As a rep at one of Atlanta’s most prestigious PR firms for the past eight years, I...” Quinn stammered, unsettled by the jolt of heat that surged through her when Max’s eyes met hers as she handed him a copy of the presentation.
It was her nerves, not Max Abbott, that had caused her words to come out in a jumble.
Despite the silent outrage in the widened eyes framed by thick, neat brows, the man was still devastatingly handsome. He was a little older and his shoulders were a bit broader. But he looked essentially like the boy she’d fallen in love with that one passionate summer. The last she’d spent with her grandparents before going off to college. The summer Max had been an intern, living and working on the farm.
That was more than a decade ago. Time had treated him well.
“I’ve handled sensitive public relations campaigns for some of the biggest names in fintech,” she continued.
“We already have a PR person,” Parker interrupted, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“You have a college student who handles social media, your newsletter, and the occasional press release.” Quinn maintained her warm smile. Duke had warned her Parker would be a tough nut to crack, and that Max and Zora might be insulted by the idea of bringing her on to execute the project that had been their baby. “But a project of this magnitude requires a dedicated, experienced professional who’ll get vendors and consumers excited about the new product line. Just as Savannah did for the company’s jubilee and the associated release of limited-edition moonshines a few years ago.”
Savannah smiled approvingly, and Parker nodded in agreement, silenced for the moment.
“If you’ll turn to page five, we can quickly review a rundown of how I’m proposing to help King’s Finest and Bazemore Farms make the most of this joint venture.”
“You’re bringing in someone else to execute our proposal?” Max ignored her completely, asking the question of his father instead. “Zora and I are fully capable of—”
“Speak for yourself, big brother.” Zora turned her chair toward him before their father could respond. “I have a lot on my plate. We’ve seen a real uptick in our international sales and domestic market share in regions outside of the South since the jubilee. I’m traveling extensively over the next few months. I can’t add another thing to my to-do list right now. Neither can my team. As long as we’re consulted regularly, I’m all for bringing someone else on to do the heavy lifting.”
Quinn exhaled quietly, and her racing heart slowed in response to Zora’s encouraging nod.
“And you’ve had your hands full with the expansion of our marketing efforts,” Duke reminded him. “So it would be better to have someone wholly dedicated to the project.”
Max’s nostrils flared, and a streak of red bloomed across his forehead and cheeks. He opened his mouth to object further, but his grandfather cut him off.
“Let Quinn finish her presentation, son. Then we can discuss any concerns privately and make our final decision.” Joseph Abbott nodded in her direction. “Please continue, Quinn.”
She smiled gratefully at the older man she’d always called Grandpa Joe, then inhaled deeply, smiled broadly and put on the presentation of her life.
She’d won over Joseph and Duke Abbott, the company’s founder and CEO. Zora and Savannah were also on board. Blake, she couldn’t quite read but Parker and Max definitely required convincing. So that was what she would do.
In this room, in this moment, Max Abbott wasn’t her first love, her first real kiss, her first...everything. He was a skeptical company executive, not unlike the dozens she’d encountered before in her career.
Despite whatever else Max might be feeling toward her—curiosity, animosity, maybe even attraction—he was a sensible individual. And like every other Abbott at the table, she knew he wanted what was best for King’s Finest.
She just needed to convince him that she was the best person for the job. And convince herself that working with her ex wasn’t her worst idea ever. Her entire future was riding on it.
Copyright © 2020 by Roxanne Ravenel
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
West Caldwell has come to Redemption Ranch to put his past behind him. Flirting with a pint-size police officer who thinks he’s bad news is definitely not part of the plan, but it’s deliciously easy to get under Pansy’s skin. In her arms, West feels like the man he always wanted to be—but can he become the man Pansy deserves?
Read on for a sneak peak of The Bad Boy of Redemption Ranch, a Gold Valley novel, from New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates.
The Bad Boy of Redemption Ranch
by Maisey Yates
“I...I DON’T CARE who you’re with, West.”
It was the first time she’d ever directly addressed him. The first time she’d ever used his name.
“Pansy,” he said. “I think you do.”
“I don’t,” she said. “I’m trying to get a job as the police chief. And I’m not going to mess around with... I’m not going to...”
“But you want to.”
“I want this job.”
But he had seen her. Seen the way that her lips parted softly when she looked at him, the way that she looked at his mouth when he took a drink of beer. He had seen how she looked at him, and he knew the way that it made him feel. It was too damned late for her to pretend that he hadn’t.
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her up against him. He wrapped his other arm around her back and placed his palm directly at the center of her shoulder blades. He expected her to get stiff. Expect her to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, she shivered. Her whole body went pliant against his. All his blood rushed south. He wanted...he wanted her.
He wanted this.
And he was going to take his time, because he hadn’t held a woman in his arms since his wife, and every memory of making love to Monica was ruined now. Torn beyond repair.
In the dim light he could just make out her eyes, wide and looking up at his, glittering beneath the moon. He ran his thumb along her lower lip, and found it soft and full.
Inviting.
“Damn you’re pretty,” he said.
His voice was rough and husky, a stranger’s voice. He didn’t know if he could recall a time when the potential for a kiss had made him feel this way. So damn hard he couldn’t see straight. So damn hard it hurt.
And then she did something he hadn’t expected at all. She went up on her toes, bracketing his face with her hands, and kissed him.
Don’t miss The Bad Boy of Redemption Ranch by Maisey Yates, available June 2020 wherever HQN Books and ebooks are sold.
www.HQNBooks.com
Copyright © 2020 by Maisey Yates
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Thank you to my agent Christine Witthohn for encouraging me to participate in the Seven Sins series.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Yahrah St. John for her contribution to the Dynasties: Seven Sins miniseries.
ISBN-13: 9781488062995
Insatiable Hunger
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Insatiable Hunger Page 18
