The Distiller's Darling (River Hill Book 2)

by Rebecca Norinne

  “Iain?”

  That wasn’t a no … but it wasn’t a yes either.

  “Let me. Please.” He set his palms on her thighs and coasted upward, until her skirt bunched around her waist. “Yes?”

  Naomi chewed her lip, and he held his breath waiting for her decision. After a few seconds, she nodded and flashed him a real smile. “Yes, you fiend.”

  Returning that smile with a wicked grin of his own, Iain set to work driving her crazy.

  Drawing the cotton panel of her underwear aside, he bent forward, pulling her sweet, spicy scent into his nose. He teased her with light flicks of his tongue, and she wiggled as if to move away, but he held her still. Finally, when she began making desperate little noises low in the back of her throat, Iain set his lips to her petal-soft skin.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, and for a brief moment, he worried she might put a stop to his eager explorations. Eager to finish what he’d started, he flattened his tongue and licked a broad path over her seam. And then, with a long, anguished moan, Naomi pulled him tight against her, and Iain set to work making her come apart.

  “Here you go.” Naomi set a grilled cheese sandwich down in front of Iain before dropping into the seat across from him with one of her own. “It’s not Frankie’s, but you won’t starve either.”

  Iain bit into the toasty bread and melted cheese concoction and stifled an appreciative moan. Swallowing, he said, “You won’t hear me complain when a beautiful woman decides to feed me.” He took another big bite, letting her see how much he enjoyed this. It wasn’t just the food either, although that was good too. It was hanging out, getting to know each other better. It was not being kicked to the curb two seconds after having one of the most intense orgasms of his life. If ever there was a way to kill one’s post-coital high, it was immediately being shown to the door.

  “At the risk of sounding too couple-y,” Naomi drawled, “how was your day?” Her face looked pained, almost as if it cost her something dear to ask him such a basic question.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Asking me about my job doesn’t make you my girlfriend, Naomi.”

  She grabbed her bottle of beer and tipped her head back as she swallowed. Iain tried not to get too distracted by the sight of her throat working. He blinked and shook his head to push those dirty fantasies aside.

  “No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “But letting you give me orgasms and then asking about your day? That comes dangerously close.” She raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to contradict the sentiment.

  To avoid having to offer up an immediate opinion, Iain stuffed his mouth full of the remainder of his meal and spent longer than necessary chewing. It was a good thing Angelica had given him a heads up about Naomi’s fear of commitment. Not that he wasn’t intimately familiar with it already, but at least now he knew it wasn’t an issue with him specifically.

  Not that you’re looking for a girlfriend, he reminded himself.

  And yet, he didn’t relish the idea of them being completely casual either. It would be easy to spend the next two months fucking Naomi whenever they each had an itch that needed scratching, but that just wasn’t him. He hadn’t been in a serious relationship in a long time, but the women he’d slept with between then and now fell into one of two categories: either they were of the one-and-done variety—like when he was traveling—or he remained friendly with them. Sometimes they were both, to be honest. Maybe it made him old-fashioned, but if a woman was good enough for him to stick his dick in, she was more than good enough to have a conversation with.

  And he very much enjoyed conversations with this particular one. He wasn’t going to force Naomi to be friends, but he was going to let her know this wasn’t just about sex for him. If it turned out that’s all she wanted from him, the next sixty days were going to be … hard.

  “Tell me if you think I’ve got it wrong,” Iain pushed his plate away and sat back in his chair, “but we get along pretty well.”

  Naomi sat back too, mimicking his posture. “Yes?” The word came out sounding more like a question than an answer; like she wasn’t sure where he was going with this line of questioning, and she didn’t want to commit to something she might have to walk back later.

  Iain chuckled and shook his head. If he wasn’t so fecking charmed by her, he might be exasperated instead. Miss Naomi Klein really was the biggest commitment-phobe he’d ever met—and that was saying something. Undeterred, he pressed on. “And this is nice.”

  She nodded slowly, and her pulse visibly kicked in her neck. “It is.”

  “And it might be fun if, in addition to giving each other epic orgasms, we also hung out sometimes. Not as my girlfriend—” he rushed to clarify “—but as my friend. A friend I think is beautiful, funny, smart, and talented. A friend I like talking to and fucking.”

  She stared at him for a beat and then swallowed deeply. “We could do that.”

  Suddenly, Iain felt guilty. Not guilty enough to take it all back, mind you, but enough to want to set her worried mind at ease. He leaned forward and squeezed her fingers. “Relax, Naomi. I just want to hang out with you while I’m here. I’m not asking you to marry me. Sixty days … that’s all. After that, I’ll be gone. And then years from now you can sit around with your girlfriends, drinking a bottle of Noah’s wine, gossiping about the sexy Irishman who made you come like no one ever had before. Or since.” He winked and slid his hand away, watching as her shoulders instantly relaxed. Good; now he was getting somewhere.

  Almost as if a switch had been flipped, Naomi’s face came alive and her eyes danced. “I think I like the way you think, Iain Brennan.”

  13

  A week later, Naomi pushed her empty plate away. “That was delicious.”

  Angelica beamed at her. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

  “I had no idea you cooked.” Angelica had spent years as a popular character actress, an occupation that hadn’t left her much time for eating, let alone cooking, as far as Naomi knew.

  “Max has been giving her lessons,” Noah said over the rim of his wine glass.

  “Oh, boo, he told you.” Angelica frowned. “I was hoping you thought I was some kind of savant.”

  Noah laughed. “I love you, and you’re brilliant in many ways, but going straight from grilled cheese to beef bourguignon was a stretch for believability.”

  Naomi watched their interplay fondly. They really were good for each other. Noah had been on the verge of serious Grumpy Old Man-hood before Angelica had moved in next door to him. They’d battled each other on many fronts before figuring out their heated exchanges were actually sparked by a major attraction. And then Noah had done what nobody had expected him to: decided Angelica was worth putting aside all of his weird family issues and making a real commitment.

  So now here they all were, having dinner in Noah’s modern kitchen. He’d asked for Naomi’s help in convincing Angelica to take the next step and actually marry him. Why he thought Naomi would be a good choice as advocate, she had no idea. She was probably the least marriage-minded person he knew. Presumably, even Max and Sean wanted to get married someday, while she had no interest whatsoever in the institution. But she had known Noah since they were children, so apparently she was his first line of attack.

  “So, Angelica, what’s your schedule like coming up?” She tried to keep it casual. Not that it mattered. Angelica was no dummy. She probably knew perfectly well what Noah’s plans were. How she would respond was a mystery to everyone but her—something that drove Noah crazy. Naomi appreciated that.

  “We’re shooting for three weeks in Portland, and then we have to double back to do a few re-shoots in Colorado. Then back here for a research break, I think.”

  “Looking up more cute small towns to film?”

  “Yep. The hospitality angle has been the most popular with our test viewers so far, so the network wants to hunt down some more bed and breakfast renovations to feature.”

  “Sounds fun.” Hope
fully she sounded convincing. Nothing about Angelica’s job actually seemed fun. Naomi had gotten her fill of constant travel years before.

  Angelica laughed. “Nice try.”

  Naomi grinned at her friend. “I have no idea what you like so much about being on camera.”

  Angelica shrugged. “I’m good at it, and these days, I get to do it by being myself and talking about something I love instead of having to be some other actress’s fake best friend or the girl who dies in the first ten minutes of a movie.”

  “I liked that one,” Noah observed. “You’re a good die-er.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Angelica rolled her eyes. “It took ages to get the fake blood out of my hair. I thought I was going to have to chop it all off.” She tossed her head, golden waves bouncing gently off her shoulders.

  Noah reached out and tugged a strand of hair. “It would have grown back.”

  “Not in time for ’Clueless.’” Angelica’s biggest role had been in a remake of the teen classic. She’d played the awkward friend, Tai. Naomi had seen the movie well before she met Angelica, and she still marveled that the curvy, vibrant woman sitting across from her could ever have been that person on screen.

  “Speaking of time…” It was her job to keep this conversation on track. “Think you’ll have time during your research breaks for my buddy, here?” She waved vaguely in Noah’s direction.

  He rolled his eyes. “Smooth, Nay.”

  She shrugged helplessly. “I do what I can.”

  Angelica narrowed her eyes at both of them. “Is this a marry-me-Angelica intervention?”

  Noah had the grace to look guilty. “Maybe.”

  “I can’t believe you agreed to this, Naomi.”

  “He caught me at a weak moment!” she protested. “It’s not my fault!”

  “What kind of weak moment?” Angelica’s gaze sharpened. “Maybe one having to do with Iain Brennan?”

  Noah’s head snapped around so fast Naomi thought his neck might break. Now she was the focus of both of their attention. She’d forgotten that couples in love sometimes turned into bizarre and frightening two-headed Cerberuses of judgement.

  “What are you talking about?” Innocence was her best defense, but it wasn’t really her strong suit.

  “We all know you’re sleeping with him, Nay.” Noah raised his eyebrows at her. “Even if it wasn’t obvious, Angelica took him shopping. You know what happens at Target doesn’t stay at Target.”

  She raised her hands to ward off their stares. “So? I’m not allowed to have sex all of a sudden?”

  Angelica snorted. “You can have all the sex you want, now that you’re not having it with Noah.” She stuck her tongue out, and the twinkle in her eye let Naomi know her friend was teasing. Mostly, anyway. There’d been a few awkward moments early in their friendship, but everything was on an even keel these days.

  “I thought we were having an intervention here.” Naomi pointed at Angelica and assumed an imperious expression. “You there. Get married. Et cetera.”

  “Nice try, Queen of the Commitment-Phobes. Let’s talk about the fact that you’re still sleeping with that Irishman.” Angelica raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  “What are you implying?”

  “That you’re daaaaaaating him.” Noah’s singsong accusation made Naomi grit her teeth.

  “We’re not dating. We have an arrangement.”

  “Max says he barely even comes to the garage apartment.”

  “Not true. He’s there right now, as far as I know.” Naomi stuck her nose in the air, adopting her mother’s no-more-talking face. “There you are. End of story.”

  Angelica snorted. “Hardly.”

  Naomi blew out a frustrated breath. “I definitely RSVP’d to the wrong intervention,” she muttered.

  “Come on, Naomi. We’re your friends, and we all have eyes and at least a vague grasp of calendars. You never stay with the same guy this long.” Noah narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t do relationships. You barely stick around to learn people’s last names.”

  “So?” She didn’t need to justify anything about her life to a man who owned as many flannel shirts as Noah did. He clearly wasn’t all there.

  “Nobody’s judging you,” Angelica said. “Frankly, I’m sometimes a little jealous of the action you get.”

  “Hey!” Noah protested.

  “Hush.” Angelica grinned. “She’s been living her best life.”

  “True that.” Noah shrugged. “But the thing is, Naomi, this seems different.”

  Angelica nodded. “I haven’t known you that long, but even I can tell something is different.” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Even Noah here has barely spent much time in your house, but Iain’s there all the time these days.”

  “Please tell me you’re not spying on me.” Naomi scowled at them. “You both have much better things to do than sit outside my house watching to see who goes in and out.”

  “Your neighbor is on the library board with Sean’s mother. And Mrs. Amory likes me,” Angelica said smugly.

  “Mostly because you order so many breakfast pastries from their bakery.” Noah’s tone was dry.

  “Well, that, and also I’m delightful.”

  Naomi put her hand to her forehead. “Sometimes I forget how small River Hill is.”

  “There are pros and cons,” Angelica said sympathetically. “Everyone knows you, but everyone knows you, too.”

  Naomi nodded.

  “Still glad you live here?” Noah asked.

  She made a face. “Most of the time. At least my parents aren’t here.”

  Noah and Angelica both laughed. Noah had known Naomi’s parents all his life, and Angelica had met them recently at an event she’d hosted on behalf of the network that aired her show. Noah had made a point of introducing her to Naomi’s mother, which had in turn made Naomi’s phone nearly explode with text messages and voicemails alternately insinuating that she ought to steal him away and suggesting that she “get over him” by going out with one of the sons of her mother’s society friends. There was a list. Her mother had emailed it to her. Twice.

  “So, is Iain moving in with you, or what?” Noah reached across Angelica for the basket of pastries Naomi had brought as her contribution to dinner.

  “No!” Naomi exclaimed. “God, Noah, we’re just sleeping together, and we hang out sometimes. Get over it.”

  Noah leaned forward, concern knitting his eyebrows together. “He’s got a hard stop on being around, you know. Back to Ireland in less than six weeks. Plane tickets in hand. This is the closest I’ve seen you come to being in an actual relationship since you were twenty, Nay. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

  “We don’t want either of you to get hurt,” Angelica said. “Iain’s a nice guy.”

  “I’m aware of that. And I know you both mean well, but the implication that I’m going to wither up and die when he goes home is fairly insulting.” Naomi kept her tone as even as she could manage. “I’m an adult. So is Iain. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that we did in fact talk it over and agree to hang out together until he leaves. It’s already dealt with.”

  Noah and Angelica exchanged glances, communicating silently in some sort of couple telepathy. Naomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “So you’re not going to start doodling your name and his all over your notebook?” Noah stuffed another half a pastry into his mouth as he spoke, and the last few words came spraying out with an extra helping of crumbs.

  “Could you be more disgusting? No.” Naomi looked at the table. “I was going to volunteer to help clean up, to thank Angelica for cooking, but if you’re going to say-and-spray, you just signed yourself up.”

  Angelica chuckled. “That seems fair.” She looked back at Naomi, a thoughtful frown crossing her face. “Can I ask you a rude question?”

  Naomi threw up her hands and leaned back in her chair. “Why stop now? Go for it.
”

  “What are your future plans?” Angelica clasped her hands on the table in front of her as Noah gathered the empty plates and carried them to the sink.

  Something about the other woman’s posture niggled at Naomi’s brain, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Not while warning bells were sounding in her head. Anytime someone asked what she had planned for the future, the discussion inevitably turned to what a disappointment she was or how she wasn’t living up to her God-given potential. Her potential being, of course, to become a doting wife and mother.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “I mean personally.”

  Naomi felt her eyebrows rising. “Wow. Have you been talking to my mother?”

  Angelica pursed her lips. “I’m just curious. I was talking to Iain about the same thing the other day.”

  Naomi felt her stomach drop. Here came the words. Iain wanted a dozen babies and a perfect wife who would drive them around to all their baseball practices and piano lessons. No, he was moving back to Ireland. Rugby practice? Harp? No wonder he had freaked out about the condom.

  “I don’t want kids,” she said quickly. Best to get it over with.

  A familiar silence descended on the room. It was the awkward quiet of people whose worldview included the ever-present assumption of future children when confronted with somebody who didn’t fit in. She recognized it, because she’d caused it often enough.

  “At all?” Angelica finally asked.

  “At all.” Naomi kept her tone firm. Years of having this conversation made it a lot easier. And at least Angelica and Noah would listen to her, and maybe even believe her, unlike her family. “I’m not interested. I like being an aunt, but I have never once wanted kids of my own. Frankly, I’m getting really excited to turn thirty-five in a couple of years. My sister-in-law says that’s when the doctors think your ovaries dry up, and people stop bothering you about it.” Angelica and Noah exchanged glances again, but Naomi plowed on. “If Iain told you he wants kids, that’s fine. Just another reason two months is plenty. Great sex, no strings.” She smiled at them. “It’s okay to be jealous.”