Page 26 of Connor

“It might be worth considering bringing in regular experts from the city for a week or two at a time,” she says, and I barely have time to think about it before I’m nodding. Hudson is doing something similar at the hospital, with medical professionals, something that both Dad and I thought was a brilliant idea.

“Great idea,” I say, liking that option. We’d not only get the expertise, but potentially world-class people right here in Whispers, making it a spa destination of choice for many.

“It’s just a thought.” She shrugs. “I know you have enough patrons coming for the whiskey, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to have world-class therapists on a fly-in fly-out basis.”

“I like anything exclusive. I like having things that no one else has. Having a rotating visitation schedule of people not only from the city, but potentially worldwide would really set us apart. People come for the whiskey but stay for the wellness.” My mind now races with possibilities, the marketing slogan sounding solid.

“I’ll work on it. I have some contacts I can call.” She nods, and I grin. I knew she would be amazing. She’s thinking big, and I like it.

“Well, here’s your place.” Opening the door, the two of us step inside. Our cleaning people got it ready for her, and it looks sparkling and refreshed.

“Wow, this is stunning,” she says, looking at the large open fire, the huge chandelier on the ceiling, and the vast amount of space.

“This is Dad’s old place. I’m next door,” I tell her, pointing to my place, which you can see through the window. “Your bags are here. Choose whatever bedroom you want. Bathrooms have towels and full amenities, and the fridge should be stocked. Victoria has left a welcome pack here for you, and all of our numbers are listed on the paperwork.” Glancing around, I make sure everything is perfect for her.

“Great. Thank you,” she says, smiling. And this smile, it’s sweeter than most of the others she’s given me. It warms me up inside.

“I need to get back to work, but I’ll come and get you around six to take us to the bar for dinner,” I add, even though I would rather stay and talk with her than go to my next meeting, which is about issues with our barley supply, something we continually have so many issues with. It’s immensely frustrating.

“Sure, um, what’s the dress code?”

I can’t help but let my eyes wander over her quickly before they snap back to meet hers, and I see a slight pink coloring her cheeks.

I clear my throat. “Anything you want to wear will be just fine.” Then I quickly turn and walk out the door. I pace straight down the footpath, and my steps don’t falter as I stride to my office. I have a million things to do before I leave for dinner, and after spending time showing her around, I have even less time to do them.

But she’s here. In my distillery. And the distillery has never looked so good.

11

DAISY

Ilook at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t wait to get those black pants off earlier; they were seriously starting to cut my diaphragm in half. Now, after unpacking, taking a quick shower, and redoing my hair, I’ve applied a light coat of makeup and am ready for dinner.

I will admit, I was nervous today. The car that picked me up from my apartment was new, polished, and the leather seats were so clean, I literally slid across them when we took a corner. Then I was driven straight onto the tarmac and stepped inside the private jet. That’s an experience that I’ll never forget.

As I swipe gloss onto my lips, I hear a knock at the front door. With one last glance at myself, I decide that jeans and a nice green top are what I’m going with, and I rush out.

When I first saw Connor, it left me breathless. He’s even better-looking than I remember, yet also even more infuriating. The first two times I saw him, he was dressed casually. Today, however, he was in a business suit, and I had to clamp my jaw shut so it didn’t fall to the floor. It didn’t take long, though, before his arrogance came through, of course picking on Sunshine’s lack of aesthetics, and he was definitely smug when he showed me the spa space. But I was almost too gobsmacked to fire back at him. It’s amazing, and I have been pinching myself all afternoon that I got such a beautiful spa to develop into a thriving, profitable spa business.

Then to meet his dad, Tanner, and have the two of them in the same room was almost too much. Testosterone oozes from them. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re huge men, but they both have a commanding presence, yet kind eyes. It’s an odd mix, but one I’m finding incredibly hard to ignore. I’m not sure what they put in the water here in Whispers, but it’s working. Must be the mineral springs.

“Hey,” I say, opening the door and then pulling up short. Connor has changed as well. Dark denim jeans, a navy button-down shirt open at the collar, and his cuffs are rolled up, showing arms that are thick and look like they could carry anything. I swallow before looking back at his eyes, just in time to see him do a quick canvass of me as well, his hand running down his beard. His expression’s tight, making my nervousness even worse.

“Are you ready?” he asks me, frowning, like I’ve kept him waiting for hours. I bite my tongue so a sassy comment doesn’t slip out.

The man is beautiful, but his personality sure leaves a lot to be desired, and while I try to live a life of peacefulness, with daily yoga and breathwork, I can’t help my fiery nature every time I’m with him.

I look up at him and blink a few times. The sun is setting behind him, the soft orange glow giving him the kind of lighting that photographers dream of, and his natural good looks, his piercing eyes, and his broad shoulders sure give women something to swoon over.

“Yes, all set,” I say, trying to be nice, grabbing my bag and walking out, proud that I can keep my smart-ass mouth in check for once as I follow him to his truck.

I peeked at his place earlier, hiding behind the thick, lush curtains of my quarters. The two homes are almost identical, log cabin style. Double story, featuring stone, and the one I’m in is like a luxury mansion, so I’m sure his is the same. The reality of exactly how wealthy this family is, is starting to show and it’s eye-watering. I mean, all the media articles I read indicated that they were astronomically wealthy, but I didn’t think too much about it all until now.

“Here,” he almost barks at me, and I jolt to a stop as he leans over me and opens the passenger door to his truck. I haven’t had anyone open a door for me before. I’m not sure how this is all meant to go or what the protocol is. It’s something I envied whenever I saw it happen to other women, and when I see it on TV, I always swoon. Now, though, I’m so taken aback I’m not sure exactly what to say, standing here, wide-eyed.

“Ahhhh… Thank you,” falls from my lips as his face remains hard-set. Clearly, he’s had a bad afternoon or something, because he seems more agitated than earlier. I look back at the door that sits wide open. It’s probably something he’s done hundreds of times, for hundreds of women, and I take in a breath as I look up at the seat in the truck.

It seems almost too far away. His truck is huge, not unlike the man himself. Black, shiny, and I assume it’s top of the line, if the luxurious look of it is anything to go by. It was something I noticed when I arrived and drove to the distillery with Victoria. Everyone in Whispers has a truck of some description. They were practically the only types of vehicles on the roads.

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