Page 20 of Knots About You
When she stood back up, she looked as pleased as pie with herself. And shut the door.
I stood on the path for a handful of long breaths after it clicked shut, listening to the murmur of the pub behind me and waiting for the thickening in my jeans to dissipate.
Well, well.
If she wanted to play…
Then I caught myself, a flash of Becky and the way she used our games to hurt me rearing up.
If we were going to play, maybe I’d have to be careful. After all, she wasn’t sticking around.
nine
CLAIRE
I never thoughtcopper and steam could be sexy, yet there I was, back in the distillery with Isla and Owen, trying to act as if I wasn’t on heat. Almost a week had passed since our pub flirting, and I’d finally braved venturing over. Okay, it might not have been the distillery itself, but the kilted wonder hammering barrel tops within. Isla marched me through the tour like a drill sergeant with a clipboard.
‘Our buyers are largely older and male, and we just need to figure out how to breathe new life into whisky. Gin nailed it, going from a drink that made your aunt sob to being the hot new thing. We desperately need a slice of that pie.’ Isla clicked her pen top almost incessantly as she spoke.
‘Translation, you need to get women on board. Maybe a younger crowd too.’
‘Exactly. The older male market doesn’t need our ads,’ Isla said. ‘But there must be some people who would give our brand a bash.’
I tipped my chin at Owen, all thick-armed and glowing as he worked. ‘Well, if you want women, you just need to show off your brother more. Have you seen those wood-cutter guys online? Tattoos, axes, going through wood like it’s made of butter? Instant fanbase.’
Isla made a face. ‘Gross. Who wants to seeOwen?’
‘Who doesn’t?’ I said with a grin. My outfit consisted of a flirty maroon skirt, a soft jumper, bare legs, and an intention to bend over in front of Owen until he made a move. I’d been trying to catch his eye all morning, and the man dared focus on his work instead.
He was in his kilt of forest greens, his legs bare below it until they hit some thick wooden socks and big boots. Boots that, if legend is to be believed, promised quite a member hidden below the tartan. Not to mention those rolled-up sleeves and angled jaw. Every time he bent to pick up another barren lid, I resisted the urge to peek under his kilt.
‘Let me try something,’ I said. ‘Can I borrow your phone? I’m currently on a brick for my own sanity.’
‘Um, sure.’ Isla handed it over with only a small knitting of her brows. ‘Tell me you’re not making a thirst trap.’
‘Absolutely I am,’ I said.
I walked over to Owen, brandishing the phone. ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. Ignore me’
He grazed his lower lip with his teeth before shrugging and going back to his hammering.
I hit record. Close-ups of his hands. The way they veined and flexed. The flop of his hair and him pushing it from his eyes with a shake of his head. I stepped in and pressed a lock of hair away from his forehead.
He stilled. For a second, I let my fingers remain on his temple. His eyes met mine in a blaze of green.
Isla gagged theatrically, bringing the situation back into sharp focus.
‘Hush,’ I said, resuming filming. A half-smile, and the way he exhaled with the effort. The faint sheen of sweat at his temple. His thick calves. Dragging myself away from him, I took some B-roll footage as well. One of the whisky bottles balanced on a cask, gleams of copper behind. It wasn’t exactly a marketing firm's standards, but by the time I’d edited it, there was little doubt it had the desired effect. I salivated. Forearms, hair, kilt, glinting stills, the tiniest curve of his mouth at the end, before cutting to the whisky.
I added some text before handing the phone back to Isla.
She watched, winced, and gave the phone back as if it had bitten her. ‘Ew. But also… ok, fine. I get it.’
Owen viewed it over my shoulder, face unreadable except for a tick at his jaw that said he knew exactly what I’d captured.
‘Trust me,’ I said. ‘I would follow your page in a heartbeat.’
‘Post it. It can’t be worse than the no views we get currently.’ Isla leaned over and swiped the screen to bring up her Instagram account. ‘If it summons a thousand thirsty girls, I’ll buy you enough muffins to see you through your stay here.’
