Page 1 of Ever Mine

chapter

one

Addison

If first impressions are everything, then I am in big trouble.

I tug on my blazer, pretending I’m not sweating under the weight of my own “new job” enthusiasm. This outfit says, Professional woman who knows what ROI means. My armpits, on the other hand, are wondering if we really put on deodorant this morning.

Everything about Limestone Brewery feels old-world meets modern chic. Exposed brick and high wooden beams give the spacious lobby an almost atrium feel. The receptionist told me to “head straight through the tasting room,” but she failed to mention that “straight through” would mean walking past a dozen tables full of people, bottles clinking, and the low hum of laughter that makes me feel like I’ve crashed the cool kids’ lunch table. Are they actually drinking beer before noon?

Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you… I don’t like beer. I think it tastes and smells pretty gross. Obviously, I won’t be advertising that fact to my new employer and co-workers because I’m here to help them improve their online presence.

Which I can do whether I’m a beer drinker or not. It’s probably just because I’m of that generation or whatever. I understand social media and how to attract the right kind of attention there. Thus, my new position as the social media marketing guru here at the brewery.

I’m not even sure the job was an official position before I was hired. It was a moment of kismet, I guess, between me and the CEO’s fiancée and some pastries. My sister, Kelsie, co-owns the local bakery, Sugar Bakers, and I ran into Mia Morales there, and well, now I have this job.

“Are you lost, dove?” The voice comes from behind me. Warm, smooth, and with the kind of British accent that could make grocery lists sound like a sonnet.

I turn and immediately forget every word in the English language.

Standing there, holding a stack of legal folders like they personally offended him, is a man who looks like he was designed by a committee of women who appreciate well-tailored suits, ginger hair, and all things James Bond.

He’s tall—of course he’s tall—with a ginger beard, rolled-up sleeves, and forearms that make my brain buffer. This man oozes charm, and he’s only spoken four words to me.

“Yes. Hi. Addison. Uh, I mean, I am Addison. I’m new.” Why, for once, can I not be

His mouth curves slightly, polite but amused. “Hawthorne Cumberland. Call me Thorne, please; otherwise, all the syllables tend to get tangled in people’s mouths. I handle legal for Limestone.”

Oh, he’s the lawyer. Which means I probably won’t have to talk to him very often.

I stick out my hand. “Addison Blankenship. Social⁠—”

“Butterfly,” he says smoothly, shaking my hand.

My brain stutters, then I process what he said. And then I snort. Awesome. “Uh, not exactly. Social Media,” I correct. “Social Media Specialist.”

He clicks his tongue. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard of that. Dangerous profession. All those thumbs, scrolling unsupervised.”

A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. “I’ll make sure to wear proper thumb safety gear.”

He looks at me for a beat too long—enough for my stomach to swoop and my pulse to do a double-time drum solo—then nods toward the office hallway. “I’ll show you to the conference room. The rest of the team’s waiting.”

“Perfect,” I say, pretending I’m not already tripping over my own confidence.

As I follow him, the scent of cedar and clean soap trails behind him, and I give myself a silent pep talk.

You are a professional.

You are capable.

You will not develop a crush on the British lawyer with biceps and dimples. And freckles!

Thankfully, it doesn’t take us too long to reach our destination.

Except, when he glances back and holds the door open for me, his smile flickers—half polite, half intrigued—and I know I’m in trouble. He’s way too attractive. It’s obnoxious.

The Limestone Brewery conference room looks exactly like the kind of space where important people say phrases like “brand synergy” and “leveraging content verticals.”