Because if she’d touched him, he would have been a goner.
After that, he’d cut the tasting short. Originally he’d been planning to make her taste at least six barrels, but three was more than sufficient to show him what he’d known all along, somewhere deep inside.
Becca Hartson was good. She didn’t have a sweet tooth or an unmatured palate. She knew what she liked and why she liked it. And it pissed him off.
He’d wanted her to be bad. Wanted to make his decision easy, because he didn’t want to work with her. Not when every time he saw her, he felt like he was out of control.
Shaking his head at himself, he exited the barrel room, setting the alarm and fastening the locks behind him. One of the guards would be around later to make sure everything was secure.
He stopped short when he saw Becca standing outside the warehouse, a soft breeze catching her long hair.
“I thought you’d be long gone,” he said, taking care to keep distance between them. “Don’t you have a hot date?”
“I’m waiting for a cab. There are only two in Hartson’s Creek and they’re in demand on Friday nights.”
“You’re not driving?” He frowned.
She shook her head. “I don’t drink and drive.”
“And exactly how much are you planning on drinking?” He felt more pissed off than ever. Didn’t she know what guys were like?
Her eyes caught his. “A lot. It’s been a rough week.”
Yeah, and he hadn’t made it any easier. “You should be careful.”
“It’s okay. Naomi will be there. And my date is a friend of her husband’s, so…”
Daniel felt slightly better. “Is it a first date?” He was asking too many questions. But he was her boss – wasn’t it appropriate that he cared about her welfare?
“First and last. He’s heading to the Middle East
next week. I guess I’m going to show him a little appreciation for all he does.”
The tightness in his gut returned. “Appreciation?”
Becca smirked. “For his service.”
Irritation rushed through him again. The thought of Becca showing appreciation to anybody made him want to grind his teeth.
Damn, it made him want to hit something. Or someone.
“I can give you a ride to wherever you’re going,” he found himself saying. “Save you from waiting.” Great idea. Be in another enclosed space with her. Let’s see how well that goes.
“It’s okay, it should only be ten minutes at the most. You don’t have to wait with me. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not leaving you on your own, Becca.” He liked the way her name felt on his lips.
“Stay here then.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.” She bit on her bottom lip, like she was trying not to smile. It was a little easier to ignore the atmosphere between them out here. Though the sky was darkening, the air was getting cooler. Like a cold shower for his soul.
When the cab arrived five minutes later, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed. They’d stood in virtual silence, both of them staring at the gate to the distillery estate like they could make a vehicle appear in front of them by sheer force of will. And he was so damn aware of her, even though they were four feet apart.
And so damn aware that she was about to go on a date with somebody else.
“Goodnight then,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him as she opened the cab door.
“Goodnight.” He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t sure he could remember how. “And be safe.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “I will. I promise.”