Chapter 23
Nikki
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
It’s been a while since I’ve driven a car, and it’s the first time I’m driving this little van that Rochelle uses for deliveries.
When I arrived at work today to see her sneezing and coughing, I knew she wasn’t going to last too long.
Then when she asked me to run the deliveries today, a job she normally does, I knew then she must be feeling terrible.
Because getting out and about is what she loves and what I hate.
I’m so far away from the school and James, if anything should happen.
Some would think that’s highly unlikely—blame me for having anxiety or something, call me a helicopter parent, but I need to be ready for anything.
Pulling up to a parking spot near the main entrance to the distillery, I sit in the van and look out.
My chest burns. The logo of Whiteman’s Whiskey stands out, large and proud, on the building, reminding me of the whiskey bottle that Dad shared with me on my twenty-first birthday.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the emotions coming to the surface.
I’ve never been here before, and it’s nicer than I imagined.
Big, tall trees line the parking area, and the buildings are new yet have a rustic feel to them, almost blending in with nature.
Their gardens are amazing, too—green, colorful, lush.
It looks like you could spend a spa day here as well as enjoy a liquor tasting.
While I know Tanner and Connor Whiteman are wealthy and well liked, I wasn’t expecting a whiskey distillery to be so picturesque.
Jumping out, I round the back of the van, grabbing the two large trays I have ready to go.
I need to close my eyes and take a deep breath as I close the door, because there’s chafing on the inside of my legs that burns with every movement.
Even so, a grin comes to my face. What Sutton and I did was completely and utterly insane, but so good in the best possible way.
Walking inside, I spot generators and cables everywhere, spotlights on out back, and if I didn’t know any better, it looks like a movie set.
“Hey, Stephanie.” I smile as I greet the receptionist.
“Hi, Nikki. They’re about to break for lunch, so they’ll be wanting those sandwiches down in the end room. Along this hall and last turn on your right.”
I nod, the trays starting to feel heavy in my arms, and with only Stephanie's directions on my mind, I make my way down the hall. People stride past me, commotion in every room I pass. I have no idea what’s going on, but I find it fascinating.
As I get toward the end of the hall, I look into one of the rooms and stop short.
Because standing there, in a designer suit that looks like it was made just for him, is the very same man I dry-humped last night.
There are lights and cameras everywhere.
He’s next to the bar, bottles and glassware propped perfectly, the lighting just right.
I watch as Sutton pours whiskey into a glass, a dazzling Rolex watch sparkling on his wrist before he brings the glass to his lips and sips.
A camera whirls around him, taking a close up of the way his neck moves when he swallows, how his large hand grips the crystal glass with ease.
I swallow in unison with him, my mouth feeling dry.
It’s hot, captivating, and so on brand for a whiskey company, it’s genius.
It’s not how I usually see him. No, this is Sutton Silvers, the movie star, not Sutton the clumsy hiker, who walks around with his hat pulled low, who stalks me at the diner.
I vaguely remember him mentioning he had a job at the distillery, but I had no idea it was all this.
“Cut,” I hear someone yell as a few people clap, the noise startlingly me to gasp.
Sutton looks right at me, my breath catching all over again as he grins and gives me a wink.
I offer him a small smile as my cheeks heat, then continue down the hall on wobbly legs, not wanting to interrupt his work.
I see the last door on the right and turn, walking in and almost slamming the trays down, relieved to have them out of my hands.
“Rough night?”
His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine, landing between my legs.
Looking up, I see Sutton’s blazing eyes burning into me.
His grin is wicked, and I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips.
He steps forward, eyes locked on mine, still in his suit, full of confidence, and slides a hand around my waist, pulling me to him.
“Something like that.” My hands land on his forearms as he leans down, taking my lips in his so tenderly I feel my knees almost buckle.
“Mmmmm… I needed that,” he says gruffly, like he’s holding himself back.
Last night was fun, sexy, flirtatious. But you never really know what the next move is after a night like that.
A man like Sutton has women falling over themselves to get to him.
He’s used to women who are beautiful, polished, and sexy.
Not ones who dry-hump him into oblivion.
God, even now, my cheeks heat at the memory.
“You did?” I ask breathily.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about last night, Tinker Bell, and seeing you now, kissing you, just makes me feel better.”
My stomach swooping is interrupted as a throat clears behind him, and I pull back, startled, seeing Tanner Whiteman is standing right next to him.
“Oh.” My eyes widen, my flush now traveling all over my body with embarrassment. But Sutton doesn’t move, not worried that Tanner just caught us together.
“This a private party, or can I get a sandwich?” Tanner gives Sutton a shit-eating grin, and Sutton smirks at him, pulling me into his side protectively.
“Oh… they’re here!” I internally cringe, but Sutton’s thumb brushes against my lower back, easing my nerves.
“Good, the crew are starving.” Tanner smiles my way like I saved the day.
“Filming something?” I ask.
“Something.” Sutton’s eyes haven’t left me as he nods, not giving much away.
Before my brain can stop me, I tell them, “With all that power draw, you may be exceeding the amperage rating of your circuit breakers.”
Tanner's eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and Sutton’s grin widens. Meanwhile, I mentally scold myself for opening my mouth.
“Explain.” Tanner moves his body to face me completely, giving me his full attention.
“Oh… I just… well… usually, that’s the case on most film sets,” I say quietly.
Sutton looks at me with intrigue. “Been on a film set before?”
I bite my tongue and remain quiet, not answering. I’ve been around them. Not a lot, but my dad has been interviewed before; the media followed him a bit, more so when Mom died.
“What do you suggest? I don’t want an OH&S problem,” Tanner asks. He’s a big man and pretty intimidating, although one of the nicest guys I’ve met.
“Um, you just need to redistribute the load across multiple circuits to prevent tripping.” It’s an easy fix. I assume they have the people here to do it.
Tanner looks at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “Okay…”
“But with all this land out here, I’m surprised you're dirty.” I huff before I gasp, my eyes widening, and I slam my hand over my mouth. Why can’t I just shut up?!
“Sorry. I didn’t mean… I just… I don’t mean to say you're dirty. I just mean dirty energy.” Heat blooms across my cheeks as Sutton throws his head back and laughs.
“God, I love these facts…” Sutton says quietly next to me. Tanner looks at him, then back to me. His brow furrows a little before a small smile comes to his face.
“I’m listening,” Tanner prods.
“I should probably just go…”
“Tell me what you think. Might as well, you’ve already started.” He crosses his arms over his chest and watches me, and I look up at Sutton for encouragement.
His proud expression never wavers. “Tell him, Tinker bell.”
I clear my throat. “The wind runs west to southwest out here most of the time, which is in line with the gardens I just saw out front. I mean, I’ve never been here before, not sure what else is out there or out back, but you could harvest it.”
“Harvest it?” Tanner clarifies.
“The wind.” It’s simple, really. What’s he not understanding?
“What about solar? I’m currently looking at covering the roof with panels.”
“There’s not enough sun,” I explain easily.
“I had a team come in to consult last week. They were adamant that solar was the best option.”
That sparks my interest. “Which team?”
Tanner's eyes narrow. “SunVault Strategies.”
I laugh before I snort and then gasp with another layer of embarrassment. Fuck my life.
“And I love that little snort too…” Sutton shakes his head, smiling like he’s won the lottery, his hand never leaving my back, but Tanner eyes me suspiciously and takes a step forward, startling me. I feel my heart racing beneath my ribs, nerves dancing, but he’s only grabbing a sandwich.
“Step back from her.” Sutton’s voice is immediate, sensing my unease as he stands at full height, stepping forward a little. Tanner stops immediately with a quirked eyebrow, taking a step back.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize I was. I’m just interested in the topic, since it’s something I'm looking to invest in.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. Tanner Whiteman just apologized. To me. Sutton stood up for me, protecting me. What the hell is going on in my life lately?
“Continue.” Sutton allows me the time and space to gather my thoughts.
“SunVault only offers solar, so of course they would pitch that. But Whispers has more wind here than daylight hours. Plus, wind can be generated day or night, doubling your capacity. You have the space to run a few turbines. I don’t know the whiskey business, but it’s possible to run this place on one hundred percent renewable energy, and possibly be the only distillery that does so.
” Once I get talking about my favorite topic, it’s hard to stop.
Tanner rubs his chin in thought. “That was my plan. I like reusing what we’ve already got. I don’t like creating a bigger footprint than needed. I just thought solar would be better.”
“The environment doesn’t lie. You just need to listen to it.” As if on cue, a wail of wind brushes past the window.
“You should see the wind turbine she’s making at home. It’s awesome,” Sutton tells him, and my gaze snaps up to his. Again, there’s pride in his voice. This man really sees me.
“You make turbines?” Tanner asks.
I shrug it off. “Just a hobby.”
“A hobby? Wind turbines?” Tanner's eyebrows are sky-high in surprise. I wring my hands together, not wanting to go on another ramble. I really need to leave and get out of this conversation.
“Some people knit, some people run, I like sustainability.”
“Have views on waste recycling?” he asks.
“Some, yes.” I'm not offering any more. I need to go.
“Want a job?”
I still. Did he just offer me a job? I’m too startled to speak, so he continues.
“Come on board here at the distillery. Be our sustainability officer. I’m not sure yet what that will involve, other than overseeing the distillery to be completely renewable, but you seem to know what you’re talking about. We’ll work it out as we go. Where did you go to college?”
I let myself feel excited for just a moment.
Getting paid to do something I spent years at college studying and have a passion for is what I really want.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say yes, to scream it.
But reality crashes down on me in an instant.
Sutton watches me closely, and I notice his shoulders slump the moment he knows I'm going to decline.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Shaking my head, I brush past them both. “I need to go.” Then I bolt down the hall and back to Rochelle’s van.
This is why I don’t do deliveries.