Chapter 16
Miles is more tempting than the promise of a chocolate cake with no calories.
Hazel
I’m washing my hands after my patient left my practice when I hear the bell above the door ring. Miles is here.
Heat flushes through my body as butterflies erupt in my stomach. Miles is here for a PT session. I can put my hands on his skin, smell his scent, and enjoy how handsome he is. I place a hand over my stomach and tell it to calm down.
But it’s Miles.
It doesn’t matter. Miles doesn’t want me.
He says he does. He serenaded you. Chased you. More than once. Claimed he wants a relationship.
I force those thoughts away. All typical Miles actions after a night of drinking. It’s not real.
If I’m starting a relationship with someone, it has to be real. The man has to be reliable. Not a man who switches from hot to cold so fast it would give a mermaid whiplash.
Besides, I’m probably leaving the island anyway. Long distance relationships don’t work. It’s one of the million reasons Miles gave for dumping me when he left for the surfing pro tour stop in Hawaii.
I blow out a breath, square my shoulders, and walk to the reception area. Miles smiles at me and those blue eyes of his sparkle.
“Hi, Blaze.”
His deep voice has goosebumps exploding over my skin. Be a professional, Hazel. This is your workplace. Not a bar. Except… my brow wrinkles.
“Are you carrying a bottle of moonshine?” I check the time. “At ten in the morning.”
His cheeks darken. “I made it for you.”
I blink. “You made me moonshine?”
He clears his throat. “It’s a mixture I developed for you. I’m calling it Ginger Siren.”
“What’s in it?”
“It’s a bold, fiery blend with notes of ginger heat, island zest, and smooth molasses sweetness.”
Huh. It actually sounds good. “Shall we taste it?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He grins before pulling two shot glasses out of his backpack.
I giggle. “You brought shot glasses to therapy?”
“I wanted you to have the chance to try the moonshine I created for you.”
Those butterflies are back in my stomach, flapping their wings, but I ignore them. He made me moonshine. It’s not a big deal.
Except he hates working at the distillery.
He hands me a shot glass before raising his in the air. He meets my gaze before toasting, “Here’s to the mermaids and the smugglers who loved them.”
This isn’t the Smuggler’s Hideaway toast. The Smuggler’s Hideaway toast is Here’s to the smugglers, bootleggers, rumrunners, and the mermaids who loved them. But he switched things around. Is he trying to tell me something?
“Go ahead.” He nudges my hand. “Try it.”
I drink the shot. The liquid burns as it travels down my esophagus. But not the good moonshine burn. It’s pure fire. My chest is on fire. My nostrils are on fire. I cough and slap my chest in an effort to put the flames out.
“What the hell did you put in this?” I ask when I can finally speak again.
“Fresh ginger, molasses, citrus zest, cinnamon, cloves, chili flakes, and an experimental yeast strain from Five Fathoms.”
“I don’t know what’s more disturbing. The list of ingredients or you borrowing an experimental yeast strain.”
“I wanted to speed up fermentation. Today’s our last PT session. This is a thank you gift for you agreeing to work with me despite not wanting to.”
“The next time you want to give me a gift, don’t. Just don’t.”
“I want to shower you with gifts.”
My brow wrinkles. “You were never one to give gifts without reason before.”
He scowls. “Because I didn’t have the money before.”
I match his scowl. “And since you’re now the sales manager for a successful distillery, you’re going to shove your money in my face.”
“I’m not shoving my money in your face.”
“Not with moonshine that tastes like someone mugged a gingerbread man and drowned him in floor cleaner, you aren’t.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t mug a gingerbread man with me?”
I gasp. “I would never mug a gingerbread man.”
Miles snorts. “And you wouldn’t steal from Santa Claus either.”
I wag my finger at him. “It was your fault.”
He clutches his chest. “How was it my fault?”
“You tackled the elf.”
He growls. “The elf slapped your ass.”
“You gave him a bloody nose.”
“He deserved it.”
“They were going to arrest you. I was forced to steal from Santa Claus to give you a chance to escape.”
“It’s a good thing you’re a fast runner.”
“I circled around and gave Santa all his money back.”
He rolls his eyes. “Of course, you did, Blaze.”
Those butterflies in my stomach love him using his nickname for me. I know better. Miles talks the talk, but he doesn’t walk the walk.
“Miles, I’m not your Blaze anymore.”
“But you can be again. I want you to be again.” He steps closer and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want?”
I want to believe him. More than anything I’ve ever wanted before. But I don’t. I don’t trust Miles. He’s not a stayer. He’s a leaver. The first time he left me nearly killed me. I don’t think I can survive a second time.
“I don’t want to get my heart broken again.” My eyes widen when I realize what I said. “Not that you can break my heart. I won’t let you. I’m not starting a relationship knowing it’s a dead end.”
“We are not a dead end,” he grumbles.
“Agree to disagree.” I clear my throat. “Now, are we doing some PT or what?”
He stares at me for a long moment and I hold my breath. I don’t know how long I can resist Miles. I’ve never been good at resisting him before. Which is how I ended up in this whole mess in the first place. But resist him I must.
“Sure. What are we doing today?”
I allow the tension in my body to release before answering, “Strengthening exercises and targeted training. I want to make sure your rotator cuff is as strong as it can be since surfing season is coming up.”
“It’s always surfing season.”
I snort. “If you can afford to travel all over the world chasing waves.”
“I don’t have time to travel the world. Business is booming at Buccaneer’s Whiskey & Distillery.”
I lead him to the largest room in my practice with all of the rehab equipment. “You don’t seem happy about business booming.”
I motion for him to lie on the exercise bench. Once he’s lying on his side with his affected arm on top, I hand him a weight.
“I thought I was going to spend my career surfing. But thanks to this.” He nods to his shoulder. “I work in an office. I hate sitting behind my desk.”
“Start lifting,” I order him before continuing our conversation. “But you’re the sales manager. Don’t sales managers charm the customers on golfing excursions?”
He chuckles. “Not in the twenty-first century. Now all contact can be handled by email and phone calls.”
“Really? You don’t need to travel to the mainland occasionally to charm distributors or handle the big accounts?”
He frowns. “Eli has been charming distributors and handling the big accounts.”
I tap his shoulder to indicate he can take a break. “Maybe you should discuss this with your big brother.”
He offers me the weight and I hand him a resistance band. “Same exercise but with a resistance band this time.”
He groans. “I’m glad today is my last day.”
I frown. “If you aren’t doing these exercises at home, I’m not signing you off.”
“You’re welcome to come to my home and check on me. I’ll leave the light on for you.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Home visits cost extra.”
His eyes flare. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
My nipples harden at the promise in his voice. I am well acquainted with how well Miles can make it worth my while.
“Miles,” I scold but I’m afraid I sound out of breath and excited.
“Sorry, Blaze. I shouldn’t tempt you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Tempt me? Why do you think you can tempt me?”
He smirks. “Experience.”
“Time’s up!”
“But I only did two exercises.”
“Patients don’t usually complain about only doing two exercises.”
“Those patients don’t want to soak up every possible second with you.”
Damn it. He went from sexy to sweet. I have a hard time resisting either Miles, but sweet Miles is especially difficult to resist.
I slap my hand on the bench. “Get going or I’ll charge you for another session.”
“As much as I’d love another session, I need to get back to work. I need to finish a management report today.”
I follow him to the door and watch him leave. Once he’s out of sight, I collapse against the door. Phew. Close call.
I should probably avoid Miles until I can build up some resistance to him. I haven’t managed to build up any resistance in the past six years, but I wasn’t trying too hard. Not when I knew Miles didn’t want me. Now, my heart’s survival depends on it.