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“What if I promise not to get in the way?” I lifted the thermos.“I brought coffee.”
He paused, considering, and… pushed the door wide.Ding, ding, ding. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner.
He stepped back, giving me room to pass, and when the door closed, he shifted back further still, thumbs rubbing over the tips of his long fingers. He seemed nervous.
My smile was bemused as I unloaded the muffins and coffee on the windowsill and released Dudley from his sling. As soon as his paws touched the ground, he and the golden retriever bounded at one another, an array of yips filling the air as they jumped and tumbled. My insides felt like melted marshmallows as I watched.
“That dog only has three legs,” Mal said from behind me.
I whirled to face him, my hands clutched beneath my chin, pulling out my best Scarlett O’Hara.“Oh my stars, how did I not notice?” My smooth southern drawl echoed in the stark space. Mal shook his head, bending to sink a hand into the giant vat of water we hovered beside, the single piece of equipment in the long room.
“Oh, come on! That one was hilarious.”
“I think we have differing definitions of hilarious.”
I stuck my tongue out at his back. When he continued to ignore me, fiddling with various dials on the wall, I took that to mean he wasn’t kicking me out anytime soon. I poured out the coffee, offering him a tin mug that he accepted with a swipe and set beside his feet.“What’s your dog’s name?” I asked, my focus straying back to the dogs who’d melted in a fur-filled heap on the floor.
“Boy,” he clipped.
That made sense.“When I heard you call him that I assumed it was a nickname… why did you name him‘Boy’?”
I could tell by the hunch in his back that my questions agitated him.“I didn’t plan on keeping him, so I called him‘Boy’and it stuck.”
“Not keeping him?” My attention snapped to the gorgeous dog again.“How could anyone not want him?”
“Like I said, I’m busy. I don’t have time for distractions.”
That was definitely a pointed comment. I could take a hint. Easing away, I used the distance to observe what I knew was the malting floor. It looked exactly as I remembered. Darkly paved, with several supporting beams down the centre. Small hatched windows lining either side of the structure, offering an uninterrupted view of the craggy coastline that gave way to rolling blue waves. Hooks hung beside the door holding instruments of various sizes—I couldn’t name the purpose for half of them. I was running a finger over the prongs of a rake when he surprised me.
“If you’re here to persuade me to let you sell this place out from under me, a cup of coffee and a muffin isn’t going to cut it. That is the plan, right?” He still had his back to me, stirring the barley in the vat as water started to rush in.
How did he know?As though he’d heard my unspoken question, he snickered, and it was a sad replica of a laugh.“Your eyes have been flashing with pound signs since you got here, princess.”
Princess.He spat it like an insult.
“I’d planned at least a week’s worth of muffins, actually.” I sniffed.“How about a carrot cake? Would that work?”
“When has a carrot cake ever convinced anyone to do anything?”
“You haven’t tasted mine,” I shot back, and I could have sworn his ears flushed. I sidled closer, tracing a finger along the lip of the basin. The liquid inside turned a light brown as water mixed with the barley.“This looks pretty new.”
He tensed, flicking me a look over his elbow.“Aye, I replaced it two summers ago.”
“You did, or Kier did?”
He knew what I was asking.“I did.” The syllables were like a clash of metal. He looked disgusted.“You seriously plan to sell this place for parts, like a broken-down car?”
“I don’t want to.” Could he honestly think I was so heartless I would sell off Kier’s legacy without a thought?
He faced me full-on, eyes gunmetal grey as his temper rose.“Then don’t. Sell it to me.”
“To you?” Hope sparked like a struck match.“You have the funds?”
His chin dipped, boots scuffing across the floor. If I knew him well enough, I’d say he was embarrassed.“Not quite. Kier and I had an agreement, I was giving him a portion of my wage every month with the understanding that ownership would transfer to me. He knew you’d never move back permanently.”
That hope sank so suddenly, my knees almost buckled alongside it.Kier, what did you do?
“You were buying the distillery from Kier?” I needed to hear it again. Needed to clarify the depth of the shitstorm Kier had dropped me in.
