Chapter 7
I push through the heavy double doors of City Hall, my stomach doing backflips. This is it—the official press conference for the upcoming craft beer festival. A room full of influential people, all gathered to hear the committee”s announcements.
And Jermaine will be here too.
My grip tightens around the strap of my oversized tote as I scan the space, searching for familiar faces. Industry colleagues, maybe, or members of the press I”ve rubbed elbows with before. Anything to help settle the frantic fluttering in my chest.
That”s when my eyes land on him—Jermaine, seated front and center like a king holding court. His broad shoulders are pulled back, projecting an air of unshakable confidence. Of course, he looks completely at ease here.
I swallow hard, fighting the sudden dryness in my throat. Just the sight of him stirs up a complicated swirl of emotions—the lingering sting of our fallout, that dizzying rush of desire whenever he”s near...the fear that I”m careening toward heartbreak all over again.
Deep breaths, Londyn.
A few committee members sit flanking Jermaine, their familiar faces grounding me. I”m here for the festival, for my brewery. Not this precarious situationship I find myself craving with Jermaine.
With a silent exhale, I lift my hand in a tentative wave, unsure if Jermaine has even noticed me yet. His piercing gaze meets mine for the briefest of moments before darting away, his attention claimed by someone entering behind me.
I don”t need to turn to know it”s Jalisa. That casual acknowledgment between the siblings tells me everything—she”s expected, an inner circle member. Unlike me, a relative outsider still seeking my foothold in their world.
A pang of insecurity stabs my chest as my eyes follow the path of Jermaine”s gaze. Sure enough, there”s Jalisa slipping into a seat beside a handsome, well-dressed stranger. Her smile doesn”t quite reach her eyes as she exchanges a few hushed words with the man.
My mind spins with questions about their relationship, about Jalisa”s role in all of this. But I quickly quiet that train of thought, chalking it up to family matters that aren”t my concern.
”I think I see some seats,” Mia whispers, and I nod, following her.
With a fortifying inhale of the room”s stale, recycled air, we claim the empty seats a few rows back from the front. Close enough to command Jermaine”s attention, yet far enough to maintain a safe distance—both physically and emotionally.
My gaze drifts back to him, drinking in the authoritative tilt of his jaw, the confidence radiating from his every pore.
This is the Jermaine I remember from our college days—ambitious, uncompromising, with a borderline arrogant belief in his own abilities.
The same man who pursued me so relentlessly all those years ago, slowly wearing down my defenses with his charming persistence.
The same man whose searing kisses left me weak in the knees and craving more of his intoxicating touch.
The same unsettling fire heats my body. Flashes of our recent dinners play through my mind.
The heated looks exchanged over plates of food, the way his palm would linger at the small of my back as we parted ways. That single, smoldering kiss on the cheek, leaving me wanting—no, aching—for the chance to finally have him in the way I”ve been denying myself for a decade.
Maybe tonight, after this is all over, I can invite him back to my place. Pick up where we left off and satisfy this slow-burning need simmering between us.
My thighs clench instinctively at the thought of finally giving in, of tasting him again after all this time. Of losing myself in the heady rush of skin on skin, of strangled gasps and whispered pleas.
Moisture pools between my legs, and I”m grateful for the loose, flowing material of my dress to conceal my body”s eager response. To hide how utterly weak I”ve become for this man who once shattered me into pieces.
Mia leans over, her voice a hushed whisper. ”You”re being awfully quiet over there.”
A knowing smirk tugs at her lips as she nods toward Jermaine. ”You”ve barely taken your eyes off of him this whole time.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks at being so transparently busted. ”I...it”s not like that.”
”Oh, really?” Mia arches one perfectly sculpted brow. ”Because from where I”m sitting, it looks an awful lot like you”re eye-fucking the hell out of your old college fling.”
I swallow hard, glancing around to ensure no one overheard her crude statement. ”Mia! Keep your voice down.”
”What?” She shrugs unapologetically. ”I call ”em like I see ”em, Londyn. That man has you completely undone. And I don”t blame you. Look at him.”
As much as I hate to admit it, she”s not wrong. Ever since Jermaine waltzed back into my life, I”ve been an utter mess—distracted, flustered, achingly turned on by his mere presence.
And seeing that man in a suit scrambles my common sense.
Unconsciously, I squeeze my thighs together, tamping down the slow burn of arousal stirring within me. This is neither the time nor the place.
”I just...it”s complicated, okay?” I murmur, averting my gaze from both Mia and Jermaine. ”You know we have history.”
”Mmhmm,” Mia hums knowingly. ”And if the way y”all were eye-fucking across the bar last night is any indication, that history is water under the bridge. That man wanted to devour you.”
My head whips around, eyes widening in shock. ”You saw that?”
She laughs softly. ”Honey, I”m pretty sure the whole damn place saw that little display. The sexual tension was so thick, you could”ve bottled and sold it.”
Groaning, I bury my face in my hands, deeply regretting my lack of self-control the previous evening. The memory of Jermaine”s heated gaze, the tantalizing proximity of his lips to mine as he leaned across the bar...it”s seared into my brain like a brand.
How is it possible that, after all this time, he still ignites this blazing inferno of want within me? That all the hurt and betrayal from our past is so easily overshadowed by these insistent cravings that have me aching to be touched, to be consumed, by him?
A thousand thoughts race through my mind—Jermaine”s strong hands caressing my body, his skilled mouth trailing scorching kisses down my neck, the delicious slide of bare skin against skin as he drives inside me...
”Earth to Londyn!” Mia”s sharp whisper cuts through my X-rated daydream. ”Damn, girl, you”ve got it bad.”
I blink rapidly, cheeks burning as I force my lust-addled brain back to reality. ”Shut up,” I hiss, swatting her arm lightly.
She grins unrepentantly. ”I”m just saying, you two need to either fuck and get it out of your systems, or go find yourselves some cold showers ASAP. This level of eye-banging can”t be healthy.”
Rolling my eyes, I shift in my seat, trying in vain to ignore the insistent throbbing between my legs.
Mia”s right—the tension building between Jermaine and me is becoming unbearable.
And deep down, I know it”s only a matter of time before one of us snaps and finally acts on it. The question is, how much of myself am I willing to risk in the process?
Jermaine clears his throat, effectively ending my torrid inner musings as he takes the mic. His gaze sweeps over the crowd, lingering briefly on me in a way that sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
”Thank you all for being here today,” he begins, that rich baritone commanding the room”s attention. ”As you know, the upcoming craft beer festival is a highlight for our industry—a chance to showcase our finest brews and connect with fellow artisans and enthusiasts alike. To show what Texas brewers are all about.”
He pauses, the barest hint of a smirk ghosting his lips.
”Which is why I”m honored to announce that Knights Brewery will be the premier sponsor of this year”s event.”
A hushed murmur ripples through the crowd as Jermaine continues. ”We”ve poured our passion into curating an extraordinary experience that will delight and inspire brewers and fans across the region. And we”re pleased to offer a prize of $100,000 to the winner of the Best Brewery.”
A collective gasp ripples through the room, and a hush falls over the crowd as everyone present digests the weight of Jermaine”s announcement.
$100,000.
The number hits me like a sucker punch, knocking the wind from my lungs. That kind of money could be life-changing for my little brewery.
My mind races with possibilities. New equipment to increase production and meet growing demand. Hiring more staff to ease the workload crushing my team. Maybe even scouting potential locations to expand our footprint. Maybe even find a representative to give us better distribution options.
But it”s the dream of finally owning my own space that really sets my heart pounding. No more renting, beholden to the whims of a landlord. A place Crown Jewel can call its permanent home, where I”m in full control of our growth and vision.
Jermaine”s intense gaze finds me in the crowd. The confidence radiating off him is magnetic, commanding my attention like a force of nature.
When his eyes lock onto mine, it”s as if he”s boring into my very soul. My heart rate skyrockets, and I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I fight the urge to look away from his penetrating stare.
That slow, knowing smirk plays at the corner of his lips. He knows exactly what effect he has on me, the arrogant bastard. And worse, he knows I can”t resist rising to his silent challenge.
My fingers itch to reach out, to make contact, to soothe this restless ache building inside me. To finally give in to the heat smoldering in his eyes and let it consume me whole.
Mia nudges my arm, jarring me from my heated musing.
”You”re doing it again,” she murmurs under her breath, equal parts amused and exasperated.
I tear my gaze away, and I try to refocus on Jermaine”s words rather than the dangerous thoughts swirling in my mind. But it”s impossible.
”This contest isn”t just about the money,” he continues, voice low and commanding. ”It”s about showcasing the passion and artistry behind Texas craft beer. About elevating our entire industry on a national stage.”
His eyes find mine once more. ”So I”ll be judging each brewery on more than just the quality of their product. I want to taste your soul, your vision, infused into every pour.”
A shiver races down my spine at his words, my core clenching with a familiar, delicious ache. Jermaine has always had a way with words, able to seduce with nothing more than the timbre of his voice and the intensity of his stare.
And now, with the stakes higher than ever before, his mesmerizing charisma is cranked up to full force.
Daring me, taunting me, to bring my absolute best and meet his challenge head-on.
My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. Two can play at this game, Jermaine Knights.
You want to taste my soul?Then brace yourself, because I”m coming for you with everything I”ve got.
My breath catches as realization dawns—Jermaine is positioning himself as a major player in this festival. Which means he and I, we”re about to become a whole lot more entangled, whether I”m ready or not.
My chest rises and falls with each measured breath as I force myself to regain control. To find my center amidst the swirling chaos of lust and apprehension and deeply-buried hurt that Jermaine”s very presence seems to reawaken.
I can”t afford to lose myself completely, not when there”s so much at stake here. Not just my heart, but the brewery.
I grip the armrests, heart pounding as Sterling reclaims the podium. This is it—the moment of truth. He clears his throat and begins naming the breweries selected for the competition.
One by one, the names roll off his tongue. Familiar local spots, a few bigger operations I recognize from neighboring cities. With each announcement, my nerves ratchet higher.
Please, please let Crown Jewel be on that list.
Sterling pauses, gaze sweeping the crowd. ”And last, but certainly not least...”
My breath catches in my throat. I squeeze Mia”s hand, seeking an anchor.
”Crown Jewel Brew.”
A giddy rush floods my veins as the words register. I did it. My little brewery is in.
Mia lets out a whoop of joy, throwing her arms around me in a fierce hug. Tears of relief prick my eyes as I return her embrace.
Across the room, Jermaine”s intense stare locks onto mine. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smirk as he mouths, ”Congratulations.”
Desire blazes through me, liquid heat pooling low in my belly. The undisguised pride shining in his eyes ignites a delicious ache deep within.
In this moment, nothing else matters—not the competition, the money, or his hidden motives. All I can focus on is the molten promise simmering in Jermaine”s gaze.
The silent vow that tonight, he”s mine.
Mia squeals, snapping me back to reality. ”Can you believe it, Londyn? We”re in!”
I nod mutely, dizzy with a swirling mix of euphoria and lust. This is everything I”ve worked so hard for, the chance to prove myself on a grand stage.
But a nagging voice whispers that I can”t afford distractions—especially not in the form of my complicated, all-consuming attraction to Jermaine.
The world seems to slow as he rises from his seat, never breaking our heated stare. I drink in every inch of him—the confident set of his broad shoulders, the controlled power in his movements.
Heat licks across my skin as he approaches. The familiar, earthy notes of his cologne envelop me in a warm embrace.
”Well done,” he murmurs, lips brushing my cheek in the barest graze.
A tremor races through me at his proximity.
Mia clears her throat pointedly, but her teasing grin says it all. ”You two need a minute?”
I shake my head, forcing myself to look away from Jermaine”s heated gaze. ”We”re good. Just...savoring the moment.”
”I”ll bet,” she quips with an exaggerated wink.
As she drifts away to mingle, Jermaine leans in, voice a low rumble against my ear. ”My place tonight?”
A shiver skates down my spine. There”s no mistaking the blatant invitation in his tone.
Part of me wants to say no—to protect myself from the heartache that”s sure to follow if I let him in again.
But a bigger part, the selfish, starved piece of my soul, screams yes. Craves the chance to finally quench this endless thirst that”s been raging since he stormed back into my life.
Tonight, I”ll indulge. Then, tomorrow, I lock it down.
Because nothing—not even my raging desire for this man—can jeopardize my dreams of taking Crown Jewel to the top.
”Sure, what time should I be there?”
”Bring a bag. The car will be there at nine.”
”Who says I was staying the night?”
”I am.”