Page 2 of Restored By the Mountain Man
“Please,” she smiles, bright and open. “Zoe.”
I nod, then address Gus. “Thank you.”
“Got it, boss.” Gus tips his head to her. “Ms. Diaz.” At her playful expression, he smiles. “Zoe,” he amends.
“Thank you,” she gives a small laugh. It’s musical with a hint of rasp.
“We’ll start with the tour,” I say, immediately stepping around her, heading to the far end of the distillery.
I slow my pace until I feel her follow. The next twenty minutes are mindless professionalism. I show her each station and location within the facility. I ignore the hints of excitement that pulse in my gut every time she impresses me. It’s not just her knowledge of the process and craft, but her passion that, at every turn, aligns with my view of what we create every day.
She’s eager to understand our process, peppering me with intelligent questions and answering mine with equal measure. The entire time, I play aloof to the occasional brush of her sleeve against my bare forearm. It’s September, and the weathersignificantly took a dive a week ago, but in here, the heat from all the equipment has me pushing up the sleeves of my sweater.
We talk about the science of whiskey when my older brother Nash’s distinctive voice pierces the hallway we’re in.
“Ghost,” he calls out. “I need this morning’s distillation numbers.” His voice is so low and borderline abrasive that it gives Zoe a startled jerk.
My body instinctively moves closer, almost barricading her body against my brother’s.
“Oh,” she laughs, placing her hand on her chest. “Apologies. You snuck up on me there.” There’s that charming tone and smile of hers.
Why the hell does seeing her turn that charm toward my brother grate my nerves?
Fucking get a handle on this shit, Hunter.
“Apologies, mam’,” Nash grunts.
“Zoe,” she offers her hand. “Zoe Diaz.”
Nash flicks his gaze my way before quickly shaking her hand, then releasing it. “Right. Laurel’s girl. Welcome. Nash Hunter.”
“Master Distiller. An honor.” Her stance eases, casually holding her portfolio. “Your distillery is stunning. And impressive.”
Nash keeps looking my way, to which I narrow my eyes at whatever he’s thinking.
“Thank you. We take great pride in what our family built,” he responds.
My brother’s only a year older. He’s had some bad luck taint his reputation, but I know he prefers it that way. Gives him the excuse to avoid people. Hence, his subtle body language tells me he’s ready to end this small talk.
“I logged them into my phone. I’ll message them to you before I input them into the system,” I answer his initial question.
Nodding, Nash’s eyes linger a bit too long on her legs. When he notices my death stare, the fucker grins.
“A pleasure, Ms. Diaz. Look forward to seeing what you bring to our small town.”
Is he flirting?
She laughs, her white smile almost blinding before it shifts to something flirtatious. “Not sure if Eden Ridge is ready for me, but too late. You’re all stuck with me now.”
Still grinning, Nash winks before he saunters off. We may co-own this business, but tripping his ass down the stairs is looking damn appealing.
“You okay?” her voice filters back in.
“Pardon?”
Her eyes study me. The jovial city girl fades for a brief moment, and it strikes me like a match. So much so, I force my body not to take a step back. Raw and seen. That’s what I’m feeling.
Then, in an instant, shutters close off her true expression, and that’s when I realize, without a shadow of a doubt: Zoe Diaz is an excellent actress. She gives the world a small piece of who she truly is. There’s a depth being hidden behind the charm.
