by Melissa Blue
Without looking at her, he asked, “What’s the poison?”
“Something I found in the back when I was looking for the mop.”
He pushed the cup away. She sat down across from him with her own glass.
He shook his head, his mouth a firm line. “Don’t drink that.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about Baird’s hooch. We have exactly ten hours to get a bead on each other and come to an understanding.”
“A square go then?”
Her brows lifted then furrowed. “Uh…what?”
He shook his head again at the glass on the table but picked it up to swallow the liquid in one go. His eyes watered, and he barely managed to hold down the cough. She laughed, at him, then drank her liquor in one gulp like it was water. No tearing for the lass, just a slow smile that made his heart thump like a hammer.
“Touché,” he said, his voice gruff partly from the whisky and partly due to her. “But why are we drinking ourselves into stupors and, as you say it, ‘getting a bead on each other?’”
She tapped her finger on the rim of the glass, her expression assessing. “In my experience alcohol reveals the baser human underneath. I could wait and get to know you or get you a little drunk to find out.”
That was one way and he couldn’t be mad at her expediency. He liked her for it. “I don’t need alcohol to show you that.”
“You don’t?”
“I have no reason to hide from you or anyone.”
Tasha seemed to consider that then slowly nodded. “From what I can put together, Davina left four months ago, and your brother found out through me by way of Mia. So that means for three months you lied to him.”
Grant made a face. “He never asked me.”
“That’s…an interesting way of saying you lied.”
He wouldn’t call it a lie, but he understood why other people would. “The truth wouldn’t change a thing. Davina’s gone.”
“That is a truth, but it’s also true she wanted more from the pub.”
“Did she say that to anyone before sleeping with me?”
Tasha pursed her lips. “To Mia…after the fact.”
It was his turn to smile. He wasn’t a shark in the boardroom. He charmed. He gave hard facts without playing on the fears or hopes of people. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be cunning or even as insufferable as his big brother. Grant could see Tasha’s admission with every nuance. Despite him being honest, she’d asked about him and the situation with Davina. Cautious—once again it was the perfect word to use when talking about Tasha.
But what made her so cautious?
He held her stare as though that could tell him. She licked her bottom lip and that made him drop his attention there. The way she parted her lips and sucked in a breath like she needed it, told him he hadn’t imagined the flirtatious tit for tat during their first call.
“Tasha, we don’t need Baird’s drink.”
She didn’t reply, only rose from her seat and brought the bottle back to the table. Without hesitation she poured into her glass first then his. He drank his and didn’t need to hold back a cough. She took her time. He could only guess she needed the few extra seconds to put some distance between the flash of attraction and their current conversation.
He’d give her that and then they’d talk about more important stuff. “Do you want my opinion?” he asked.
“Exactly what I want,” she said.
“Davina should have demanded a piece of the pie. She’d put in three years of work. Baird is loveable, kind, but he is still a small businessman. No point to pay for someone to do the books, to upkeep the liquor license or take care of the gritty details if he can and pocket the money.”
“And that’s a good excuse? She didn’t ask. She showed loyalty, but she didn’t say the words?”
He narrowed his gaze on her, unsure of what she wanted to hear. “Aye. A year ago, had Davina demanded to be a manager or even encouraged the Baird to brew his own brand officially, my brother and I wouldn’t be here now. The world is different for women, I am very aware of that. The Baird, though, would have taken her seriously. She didn’t ask because she was afraid. No one is to blame for her fear.”
She poured more and his head ached at the thought of finishing the cup.
Tasha said, “I will give you that based on what I know about the Baird. The truth remains that you could see her loyalty and still you slept with her.”
“Had nothing to do with the pub or her ambition. We had a moment…over drinks.” He gestured to their glasses. “Something like this set-up actually.”
She laughed. “I’m to believe you ask for everything you’ve dreamed of? You, the CFO, who is slinging whiskey for his brother in his spare time?”
His sharp intake of breath filled the sudden quiet after her question. Grant had underestimated her. She saw way more than he believed she could. “My being here for Kincaid is mostly guilt, aye. The rest is lending a helping hand because I fucked up. Were it not for my actions, Davina would be here making this transition smooth.”
Tasha blinked then frowned. “And? I don’t know you. Not really. I just…suspect that’s not where your brain stops. She left. You stepped in. You’ll leave, sure, but what happens in the future when your brother needs you again?”
Och. Aye. He fucking liked her. In such a sharp way he gritted his teeth at the simple yet complicated question that made his mind go off on tangents. Grant knew he couldn’t stay at the Drunken Barrel forever. At some point, the board at Scotland, International would want him back full-time or his resignation, no matter how bad the PR would look.
When the pub and homebrewing grew, it would need a CFO. The business would likely be better off if it wasn’t Grant at the helm. Family, friends and business were a no-go for valid reasons. He’d lost count of companies his equity firm took over that were built by family or friends and everything had broken into bitter pieces.
No. No. Why was he even thinking about this? Despite her poking at him, her sharp fucking insight, he didn’t go down this thorny trail of thoughts for too many reasons.
He was CFO of Scotland, International. Full stop.
Swallowing every one of those tangent thoughts down, Grant said, “Has Mia told you what they’ve been doing the past few months?”
“How about you tell me in your own words.”
“For the first month or so, Kincaid happily puttered on the distillery in the back. He was experimenting and stockpiling. Eventually he ran out of room in the cold storage. The Baird put him in contact with the person he would…rent a distillery from to make his brews. That led to meeting with farmers who grew peat.”
“That doesn’t sound like homebrewing.”
“Not in the sense you mean, but he’s not…” He gestured, futilely with his hands as a very famous name of American ale escaped him. “I’m trying to think of a big company in America that sells ale.”
“Budweiser?”
“Thanks. He’s not Budweiser, but he’s also not someone who tinkers every other month.”
“But you want him to be? Budweiser?”
“I want him to do whatever makes him happy…and if that keeps him home, here in Glasgow, I won’t complain.”
She blinked. “That’s very honest of you.”
“Like I told you, lass, I have nothing to lie about.”
She sucked her teeth, gaze narrowed. “Yet, you haven’t said anything about how you really feel about my friend.”
He had to frown at that. “Mia makes my brother happy.”
“And that’s it?”
He’d given Mia a hard time when they’d first met and until she came back from America. He had been sure, worried, his brother would leave with her. They had stayed. Grant had zero complaints now. “Aye.”
She picked up her drink but only swirled the liquor around. “So, the question becomes: what will you do when she no longer makes him happy?”
He d
idn’t have to say ‘everything in his power to fix the problem’. That was understood between them, and the reason why they had these drinks became clear. “You don’t have to say you’d go to the ends of the earth for Mia. You’re here.”
Her eyes widened. “Then I should be blunt. I’m here for the money.”
“And you’re here to protect your friend. A misguided reason, but I’m getting what I want in the end.”
At her nod, he figured they had come to the end of that conversation. She’d said her peace and they now knew where each other stood. He took stock of her. Her shoulders were lower. Her gaze warmer. They could move on to the important conversation.
“That’s one understanding out of the way,” he said.
She leaned forward. “We have another one to be made?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. The rough scrub pricked his fingertips. She was going to love that against her skin. “The understanding that we want to fuck each other. Since we’re being frank, we might as well iron out when, where, and how often. We can skip over saying we won’t or asking if we should. It’s more expedient this way.”
Her shocked laugh was deep, husky and something he wanted to taste. He leaned back in his chair placing his hands on his thighs. Her gaze followed the action, and the emotion shining in her eyes was hunger.
“After this conversation, I’m pretty sure I can curtail my hormones.” She pushed her chair back from the table. “Good night.”
He almost laughed, but his gut was too taut. “I took you for wary, but never scared. Tell me, Tasha, what is it about me that makes you want to up and run?”
Her eyes roved over him in a slow, deliberate way that left his scalp tingling.
Tasha said, “You seem straightforward. You seem like a guy who would always go for the logical explanation or solution. Point A to Point B type of thing because it’s expedient. You are actually a mischievous enabler.”
Grant tilted his head, his heart racing. “Explain that.”
She pointed at him, her finger an accusation. “You’re the guy who volunteers to be the designated driver. The guy who gets everyone drunk, eggs them on to do embarrassing but funny things while recording.”
And that was the moment Grant knew there was no way he’d let her leave Scotland without getting a taste of her first. People saw him—or rather, saw him the way they wanted to. They weren’t entirely wrong to cast him as an exacting CFO or a meddling—and maybe overprotective—sibling. Only his best friend saw him as a potential troublemaker, and maybe the Baird.
But Tasha could see that after one face to face. She could see that and still wanted him despite of. He only hoped, soon, she would want him because of it.
4
T
asha may have miscalculated Grant’s raw sex appeal. He seemed unassuming in his dark gray beanie, black long-sleeved shirt, jeans and boots. If not for the way he interacted with everyone, as though he was looking into their soul to find all their weak spots, she could forget he could snap his fingers and get whatever he wanted.
And he wanted her.
She told him she found him suspect. She told him she was there to protect her friend from him. Still, he’d made his want clear in no-shit terms. And, okay, fine. There was a stirring of want on her side, too.
Ignoring that, Tasha spread her hands on the table. “Since we got that out of the way, it is time for me to go to bed. Don’t forget to lock up on your way out.”
Grant rose along with her. She stopped, narrowed her gaze for what felt like the hundredth time. She had to keep her good eye on this man.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
His laugh was silk along her skin—teasing, enticing. She shivered. Worse, a smile lit up his face, creasing his laugh lines, turning his eyes almost emerald. “I want us to kiss.”
What? “Didn’t we come to an understanding that you are dangerous, and I run from danger?”
“Shouldn’t say that like you’re proud.”
“Maybe not. I simply don’t see anything good coming out having an affair with you.”
“That’s why we should kiss. You’ll understand all the good things possible after that.”
She had no doubt one kiss would lead to sitting on his dick. “I’m sure you are very, very good in bed. That doesn’t mean I should take a roll in it.”
“You’re attracted to me, but you have reservations. That’s understandable. We’ve just met. Attraction will never replace knowing someone. What do you need to know or see from me to assuage your doubts?”
She could see it now, how he was as a CFO. The man circled around irrefutable facts until you saw his reasoning. She started to say “nothing can persuade me” and “never will we” but those words were tempting fate. “Didn’t you just mess something up because of sex with an employee?”
“I did.” He winced then shrugged.
Only slightly aghast—and that was troubling—Tasha asked, “But it’s your siblings who are the headache?”
“Never said I wasn’t one, too. It’s genetic.”
Tasha laughed. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes to one kiss. A kiss you want but are telling yourself you shouldn’t.”
Tasha rounded the table, put a hand on his chest and pushed him an arm’s length away to make her point clear. His pecs flexed beneath her fingertips. He had really nice pecs.
“Stop doing that mantitty thing, and unfair.”
He closed his hand on her wrist. “Tasha…”
Her body tingled at the simple touch. She inhaled to get a semblance of control over her hormones, but that was a mistake. “I was sure once I got this close, I would say no then flounce out of here, but you smell nice.”
“Expensive cologne has its benefits.” He stood still not moving to pull her closer.
Tasha hated how much she liked him waiting for her clear go-ahead. “No arguments, cajoling, or devil-on-the-shoulder pushes from you? I’m almost disappointed, but only because it would make it so much easier to tell you fuck no.”
“I don’t need to do those things.”
She believed him. The rest of her had started to tingle from the sexual tension strumming between them. That was new, and she wanted more. Needed his mouth on hers as her nipples stiffened from the heat of him so damn close, just two steps away.
Bad idea.
Horrible, horrible…craving to do it anyway.
She should have gone upstairs when she had the chance because her body had already given in. The only thing stopping her was their conversation and his squirrely answers. They were fading in her mind’s eye the longer he touched her. “Absolutely no kissing.”
He grunted low, rough. “That sounds like an invitation to do everything but.”
Shit. It did sound like that. “Grant—”
“No—that’s the only word I need, and I’ll let you run upstairs and hide.”
Why did his expression have to be so damn solemn? Gotdamn him. She couldn’t bring herself to say no. The single word should have been so easy. Within a month, she’d gone from working in a bar in California to a pub in Scotland. That wasn’t like her, at all. She was the one who considered all the pitfalls. The trip alone was out of her comfort zone. She’d done it for a friend.
But this—kissing him would be for her. It would be wild, reckless and an antithesis to Tasha. But, god, how she wanted to be reckless with him just for a moment. It hurt a little when she murmured, “I can’t kiss you.”
“Too much so soon with a cautious lass like you? Aye. Aye. Too much.”
He loosened his hold on her wrist but brought up his other hand. To her shock, he used his nails on her inner forearm, so gently, if she wasn’t so aware of him, she’d have missed her wrists had an erogenous zone.
By the time the gentle scrape of his hand reached her elbows, Tasha wanted to melt into the floor and die from pleasure. When his palms, warm and slightly rou
gh, rested on her neck, she let her head fall back, and moaned.
Grant drew his thumb up her neck to her chin. His mouth brushed her hairline as he stepped into her space. She shivered, almost whimpering.
Gotdamn him but he said, “Anywhere specific you want me to touch, lass?”
“Just…” she whispered on a sigh.
Him touching her was better than any kiss he could have given her. He took those long fingers and dug them into the back of her neck, her back, her sides, and massaged her flesh deep and gentle. She didn’t protest when he took a handful of her ass and pushed her against his hard dick. Right when she was sure nothing else could feel better, he started to rub his five o’clock shadow along her neck. She could feel her knees spreading.
Tasha pushed him away. “Enough.” When did she start huffing in and out to catch her breath? When did his gaze get so dark?
She said nothing more, so maybe he felt the need to say, “Have you had your fill of me, or have we reached the part where you run scared?”
The latter, but she refused to tell him that. He could, at any point, touch her and know she’d cave in some way, in every way. After this, Tasha would know she had said yes in everything but the actual word. And so would he.
With no reason to shy away from that simple truth, Tasha lifted to the tips of her toes and brushed her lips along his. He groaned and reached forward.
She backed up, not letting her gaze waver from his. “Good night, Grant.”
Had she tripped on the stairs at her brisk walk, she wouldn’t have felt an inch of shame. She made it to Baird’s flat, but she couldn’t say she made it in one piece. Tasha had left a part of herself with Grant and there was no lying to herself about it otherwise.
5
M
ia breezed in for a visit the next afternoon with food. Tasha pushed the comforter all the way off and made a grabby hand motion. Mia dropped the bag of food in her lap and settled on the end of the bed.
