GEMMA ZIPPED HER coveralls and pulled her hair into a ponytail and walked out onto the distillery floor. It was her first day back in Miami, and she took a deep breath—not many people would count it as their favorite smell, but for Gemma, as she took in the pungent smell of distillation, she was home. The distillery was where she belonged, and she was glad to be away from Jamaica, back on familiar ground.
The sunlight was coming in through the small, high windows. It was still early, before everyone else came in. This was her favorite part of the day. It gave her a chance to go through the room, stirring, checking levels, testing flavors. But for the sound of the equipment working, the room was silent, and she reveled in it. She had to catch up on everything she’d missed the past week. She picked up several clipboards and read the notes that had been left by her crew while she was in Jamaica. Despite her fears that everything might fall apart without her, it turned out her perfectly capable team were able to keep things running.
“There’s our distiller of the year,” she heard Quin call from the door. She looked up and saw both of her brothers walking into the distillery.
So much for her quiet morning. “You guys are here early.”
“We both have a lot to catch up on,” Reid explained. He reached for the clipboards, and she snapped them back.
“The old Reid would have never taken a full week off,” she teased.
“You got that right. But I’m glad I did.” He paused. “Lila and I had a pretty interesting conversation after we got home last night.”
Gemma’s eyes widened. Had Lila told Reid about seeing her with Tom Cain? She hadn’t had time to chat with her before they left the island. But no, Reid’s girlfriend wouldn’t have sold her out like that. “What is it?”
“I proposed.”
“Oh, my God!” Gemma shrieked and threw her arms around her oldest brother. “That’s amazing!”
Quin joined their group hug. “She said yes, right?” he asked, joking.
“Of course, she said yes,” he told them. “I’m actually here early because I knew that she would call you as soon as she woke up. Hell, I had to physically stop her from calling you after midnight last night.”
“And how did you manage to physically stop her?” Quin nudged him in the ribs.
“I think you know,” Reid responded with a wink, not letting the innuendo escape them.
“Well, we have an engagement party to plan.”
“That’ll come.” Reid put up his hands. “We’re in no hurry.” He nodded at the clipboards and turned to Gemma. “How does everything look?”
Back to work. The celebration didn’t last long. But Gemma looked up at her oldest brother, and she could tell he was happy—happier than he’d ever looked. Before Lila had entered his life, she didn’t think she’d ever see a smile on his face again. Not since what had happened with his ex-wife. Her thoughts of Carolina led to thoughts of Cain Rum, which led to Tom. A knife of guilt stabbed into her chest, and she felt it difficult to breathe as she remembered what she’d done with him in Jamaica. It might sound ridiculous, but Gemma knew that with one blissful act, she’d betrayed her family and the distillery.
When it seemed like it had taken her too long to respond, she cleared her throat. “Everything looks great. The crew did a great job of keeping the place running.” If she could just keep the conversation about rum, she’d be fine. “We should be able to bottle more of the quick-distilled by the end of the week. Then they’re on the truck and on shelves.”
“Fabulous.”
She thought they might walk away, but instead Quin smiled at her. “You know, Gem, I don’t think we really had a conversation about it in Jamaica, but we’re really proud of you.”
Gemma shook her head. “We all made this happen.”
“No, Gemma, listen. We would just be two guys without a clue if you weren’t running the distillery. You are the best in the world. There’s no question.”
Her brothers’ praise felt good, but she needed them to leave, lest they be able to see the sin of Tom Cain written across her forehead. “Oh, my god, when did you guys turn so mushy?” She pushed both of their shoulders. “Get out of my distillery. I’ve got work to do.”
“Fine.”
“And tell Lila I’m calling her later.”
Tom sat in his office, drumming his fingers on the desk. He stopped to flip through the week’s worth of messages his assistant, Alison, had given him. Part of him had hoped to see a message from Gemma. But her name hadn’t been among the list of people he had to call back. He tossed the little pink slips back onto his desktop. With the exception of Gemma Rexford, there was no one he wanted to speak to. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, and it was driving him crazy.
Spinning around in his chair, he took in the skyline of New York City. The skyscrapers, the concrete jungle. The sky was gray and held the promise of snow, a far departure from Jamaica. He longed to be back there. Not just under the heat of the sun, but with Gemma. After she’d left him at his hotel room, he hadn’t seen her again. He’d hoped she would come to him, but he guessed she must have come to her senses and stayed away. If only he could come to his senses, too.
“I heard you were back.”
Tom turned in his chair and saw his father had come in without knocking. “John,” he said. He never called him Dad, or referred to him as his father at the office. Not like the man acted anything like a father—especially in the last few years. “Come in, why don’t you?” he asked ironically. His father never knocked, unable to fathom that someone might not want him in the room.
“How was Jamaica?” he asked, going to the wet bar and pouring himself a glass of rum, even though it was before noon.
“Good,” Tom said. “Informative. I made some good connections.”
“Did you run into the Rexfords?”
Tom nodded. If his father had any idea just how he’d run into the Rexfords... “Yes, of course.”
“I heard the girl was the toast of the conference.”
Tom bristled at his father’s use of the word girl. Gemma was a grown woman, and he couldn’t help but defend her. “Gemma Rexford is one of the best distillers in the world. And she has the product and awards to prove it. She gave a presentation on an overview of the process. But she obviously didn’t share any secrets or the ins and outs of it.”
John shook his head. “She must be more clever than she looks. Although, she looks pretty good, eh? There’s a lot going on in that pretty little head of hers.” Tom opened his mouth to defend Gemma, but his father finished his rum and left the glass on top of Tom’s desk. He stood to leave.
“I’ve been looking at the profit and loss report from last month. I was hoping we could talk about it.”
His father waved him off. “Ignore that for now. We’re taking care of it.”
Tom wanted to discuss it. Cain Rum was losing money every month. If they didn’t make changes, Tom knew that when it came time to take over the company, there might not be a business left.
Before he could counter, his father was gone, and Tom was again alone in his office. He looked at the glass that his father had left on the corner of his desk. Condensation had pooled on the dark oak wood. Tom picked up the glass and wiped away the water. Polishing the shiny surface with the cuff of his sleeve, he saw that there was no damage. Much longer, and the wood would have tarnished. That was John Cain, all right—no consideration for anyone else. His father was selfish, dismissive, stubborn.
Tom hated that he hadn’t stopped the things his father had said about Gemma. She was smart, capable, beautiful, sexy... His thoughts trailed off, and his tailored suit felt tight, restrictive. He was too hot, too confined. He needed to get away from the office.
Tom looked again at the stack of phone messages on his desk and the meetings and appointments that filled his schedule. He dialed his assistant in the next room.
“Yes, Tom?”
“Alison, I need a flight. Can you see if the jet is available?”
“Really? There’s nothing in your schedule out of town.”
“Something just came up. I need to leave as soon as possible.”
“Sure thing. Where are you going?”
“Miami.”