Wylde Fire Page 4

  She smirked, nibbling on the edge of a cracker. "Ready to hear my plan now?"

  "Hit me," he said, popping another cracker in his mouth.

  She spread her arms out wide, gesturing around them. "Scrap everything about the fancy ballroom plan."

  "Holly, I hired you to throw a party—not cancel it."

  "Look around, Sam. This place is amazing. Maybe you've forgotten because you see it every day, but this is your brand." She gestured to the barrels against the wall, the shelves of whiskey, and everything else around them. "It's authentic and rustic, and influencers would be all over having a day-in-the-life type experience with tons of prepped photo op moments. This place is Instagram-worthy—trust me. The theme? Your brand—fire."

  He smiled at the animated way she moved when she spoke, the worries from earlier melting away. Her joy was fresh and enticing, like she saw everything through a different lens, without the jaded disillusionment and distrust that clouded most of his own life. He wanted to bottle up her creativity and sense of wonder. Sample it like a perfect single barrel whiskey.

  "The party would be in the evening, dusk and dark. We could host tours through the building to show the process, as well as give out samples, of course. Then, set up a big party area outside draped in romantic lights, rustic decor with roaring bonfires all around—you have a ton of land."

  That was certainly true. The distillery was between a small road and a thick forest of trees, but there was a large open field across from it. They owned all the land around it, so it wouldn't cost much aside from clearing some brush.

  "Wyldefire shouldn't have its grand debut in a crystal glass, five-star hotels. It should be right here, in the countryside where we all grew up, where real Tennessee whiskey is made." Holly turned to face him, wiggling her brows in a teasing smile. "Where real Tennessee men are made. This is Wyldefire. You are Wyldefire."

  Sam couldn't keep the smile from his face. It split him open wide, and he felt a surge of excitement in his gut. He needed this plan to work—more than she even knew. More than his partners knew. Hell, the secret he was harboring could destroy them all if this launch wasn't a success. "Damn, you're right. We have to do it here. I don't know what the hell I was thinking before."

  "You didn't have me before," Holly replied with a wink as she finished her cracker, already reaching for another.

  "You're not so bad, HG," Sam teased. "But, have you even tried any of our whiskey yet?"

  She eyed him, one brow raised. "I feel like you tried enough tonight for the both of us."

  "I'll just watch you," he assured her, though he wasn't even slightly buzzed now that his stomach was full of crackers. Intoxicated? Definitely, but not from the whiskey. "If you're going to throw this party, you have to know the product."

  "All right." She nodded, looking around at the shelves full of varying labels. "Which should I try?"

  "Sweet or bold?" he asked.

  "Do I have to choose?" One brow lifted, a smirk stealing over her lips. This woman was going to be trouble, and he was more than ready to throw down.

  Sam reached his hand across the bar, resting it on top of hers. "With me? Definitely not."

  Her eyes flickered down to their hands, then back up to him. Her cheeks tinted crimson, and she swallowed hard. "Sweet," she finally answered, almost a whisper.

  Sam lifted his hand and pointed to a glass-paned cabinet on the far wall. "Grab the first bottle out of that cabinet over there."

  She retrieved a clear, glass bottle with a golden, brown liquor inside—their honey whiskey line. It was the sweetest they had, and one of his favorites. "Where do you keep the glasses?"

  Sam stood and walked around the bar until he was standing beside her. "Don't have any down here at the moment since we're not up and running yet. They're shipping in next week." He could have gone and retrieved a few from the office, but that would make this a lot less fun. "Open up."

  Her wide eyes flamed as she took a small step back. "Uh…what?"

  Sam unscrewed the top and motioned as if he was going to pour it in his own mouth, so she understood what he meant. "Open your mouth for me."

  His voice was gravelly, deeper than he'd meant it to be, but the image of her chin tipped back and her lips parting for him made his body respond automatically.

  "What if I hate it?" she asked, sniffing the tip of the bottle as he extended it toward her.

  "You won't," he promised.

  She tipped her chin back and parted her lips just enough for him to raise the edge of the bottle and pour a few drops onto her tongue, her eyes staying focused on him.

  Sam's gaze stayed on her lips, the glisten of his alcohol against her full pink lips, the look of surprise, and then enjoyment in her gaze as she first tasted it, then swallowed it down. He slid the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, unable to stop himself from wiping the whiskey away. His hand lingered against her cheek, sliding down her neck before he pulled away.

  "Oh, Sam." This time, her words were loaded and husky, full of richness he knew the rest of the world would soon experience, too.

  "I told you it was good."

  "Sam, this is the best whiskey—no, the best drink—I've ever had," Holly told him earnestly, reaching forward to grab his forearm. "This is…it. This is going to be the next big thing."

  "From your lips to God's ears."

  Chapter Six

  Her gaze still hungry, she smiled mischievously. "Can I have another sip?"

  Sam raised the bottle, this time keeping his eyes locked with Holly's as he poured a few more drops past her lips. She placed a hand on his chest—maybe to steady herself—but it scorched him. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the way she stared at him, dared him, pushed him…she had to be burning up to.

  Maybe it was the alcohol.

  Maybe it was the fact that this might be the worst weekend of his life.

  Or maybe it was the fact that this was the first woman who'd made him feel so alive in years, but he couldn't hold back another second. She was fucking gorgeous, and he wanted every inch of her—here and now.

  Placing the bottle down on the bar top next to them, Sam reached for her and crushed his lips to hers, tasting his own sweet whiskey, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  She froze for a brief moment, caught off guard, but then leaned into him. Her hands twisted in his shirt and the softest moan passed through her. She parted for him and he plunged his tongue inside, wanting more with every bit she gave him.

  Pressing her against the bar, his hands slid down her sides while pulling her even tighter against him. It was as if he couldn't get close enough—he needed every inch of her pressed to him. Damn, he needed her clothes off and her legs wrapped around him. He needed skin on skin, claiming every inch of her.

  "Sam." Holly pushed at his chest gently, trying to catch her breath. "We shouldn't."

  She was definitely right, but at the moment, he didn't care. Being around her, kissing her, holding her—it was the perfect balm for his wounds. He could get lost in sex. He could forget in sex, in her.

  "Why not?" His voice came out more strangled and pained than he meant it to. "I want this. I want you."

  Holly trailed her fingers down the side of his face, cupping his cheek in her palm. He leaned into it, turning to kiss the inside of her wrist. She looked conflicted, but the flush on her chest and the fire in her eyes told him she was as turned on as he was.

  "Sam, you're hurting right now…"

  "So are you, Holly." He bluntly cut her off, though his tone was soft and kind. It had taken him a sec, but he'd recalled Holly and when he'd started traipsing through his memories of her, it wasn't high school that his mind had wandered to first, no, it was the image he recalled of her at the gravesite of her parents, a picture the local paper had run for a week. "I know what happened to your family. I know your sister is at Cumberland Medical."

  She swallowed hard and turned away from him, mindlessly running her hand over the bar.
"Oh."

  "Shit." Sam sighed, trying to ignore the fact that now her ass was pressed against his manhood and he only needed to lean forward to kiss his way down her neck. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, Holly. That was uncalled for."

  She took a moment before facing him again, stepping away so they were no longer pressed together. Her arms were crossed over her chest, nostrils flared, and her jaw set tight. "Is that why you offered me the job—and at a higher pay? Pity?"

  "Hell. No." There was nothing he hated more. "Believe me, darling, I'm more than familiar with being pitied. I'd never do that to someone else."

  The way her eyes were squinted at him said she wasn't convinced.

  He extended one hand to her, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Wounded souls…they can sense one another. You feel it in me—I know you do. It can be that simple…you and me. We can make each other feel good, when everything else in our lives feels downright awful. Here, with you…I can forget. We can."

  "Sam, I…" She paused, letting her free hand smooth over his chest. "I can't. I want to…really want to." He liked the sound of that, his body roaring to life again at the husky vibration in her tone. "But, look what happened between your cousin and the last event planner? I can't lose this job. I have too much riding on this paycheck…I cannot jeopardize this."

  An ache thumped in his chest as he thought of her predicament. He knew the cost of Cumberland Medical, and there was no way her insurance was covering it. She was depending on this paycheck to pay for her sister's medical bills. His life had always been so privileged, never having to worry about things like money or health. The biggest woe in his life was others' perceptions of his supposed loneliness and heartbroken love story—all of which was mostly rumors. Pathetically minor compared to her past.

  "In all honesty, I was actually going to ask you about an advance on my fee…" Holly squeezed his hand a little tighter, a nervous twitch as her eyes avoided his. "Which, I swear, is something I've never done before, and—"

  "Done. You can have the entire thing up front after the contract is signed." That was not going to go over well with his partners, but he couldn't care less. He'd take it out of his private accounts if he had to.

  Her eyes widened. "Sam! No. I can't."

  "You can, and you will. To be honest, it won't make a huge difference. You'll need a lot more than that for Cumberland." Hell, he'd put her and her sister on his health insurance if he could. "Wait…"

  Why couldn't he?

  "What?"

  Sam stood and clapped his hands together as his brain kicked into overdrive and began putting together the pieces of an insane idea that might just be…not so insane.

  Holly touched his forearm softly. "Sam?"

  "We should get married."

  Laughter bubbled up, bursting from her in one loud guffaw. "Yeah. Right! We'll just get right on that. Vegas, here we come."

  "I'm serious." Completely serious. It was crazy, and yet, would fix everything for both of them.

  She searched his eyes, her laughter dying down into an uncomfortable titter. "What are you talking about?"

  "You are your sister's legal guardian, so if we were married, you both can be under my health insurance. Mine will definitely cover Cumberland, and anything else you need. I have fantastic insurance, and it'd be all yours." He couldn't keep the smile off his face, though he was fully aware that he sounded like a lunatic.

  She began pushing the bottle of whiskey farther away from him. "I thought you said you weren't drunk."

  "I'm fifty percent sober, and one hundred percent serious."

  "Oh, great. So, you're just psychotic. Wonderful." Fishing her car keys out of her pocket, she headed back in the direction they'd come. "Nice seeing you again, Sam. Get help."

  "Holly, stop." He grabbed her and pulled her back to him with a gentle, but forceful grasp. "Just hear me out. It's not as crazy as it sounds."

  "Sure. I've always thought insurance fraud sounded like a sane idea."

  Her sarcastic dismissal did nothing to temper his excitement. "It's not fraud if it's a real marriage. We'd live together. Be together—if you wanted, of course, which I think you do. Hell, I definitely do. We'd be husband and wife in every sense. Your sister would have the care she needs. Unless you're dating anyone right now, I don't see the problem."

  "I'm not dating anyone, but…this isn't funny, Sam." She pulled her hand away from him, crossing it over his chest again. "My life is not a joke. Marriage is not a joke. You can't just Google my past then dangle some miracle in front of me for fun. This is cruel."

  The tiniest hint of tears lined her bottom lashes, and Sam felt his heart lurch in his chest. "That…that's not my intention at all. I—shit, I'm not explaining it correctly."

  "Well, try."

  "I'm the one who'd benefit from this," he explained. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was treating her like a charity. "I'm the one who needs you."

  Her brows scrunched together, but she didn't say anything.

  "Tomorrow I'll be attending the wedding of the woman I always thought I'd marry, and in front of my entire family and this whole town. When I caught her sleeping with my younger brother, I was certain nothing could ever break my heart as much as that moment." Sam paused, filling his lungs as he tried to convince himself to continue. "I was wrong. That moment was nothing compared to the three years since. The pitying looks from everyone in town. The complete betrayal of my entire family celebrating Grady's 'new love.' It's sickening. I am not the sum total of one mistaken relationship from my past."

  She sighed, leaning against the bar as her shoulders relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't imagine what that must feel like."

  "It's nothing compared to what you've been through," he added. "That's for damn sure. However, that entire experienced changed me. As much as I miss the companionship and intimacy, I'm not going to trust someone in that way again. I'll never fall in love again."

  "Don't say that."

  "It's true, and it's exactly why this is perfect for me." He gestured between the two of them. "There's nothing hidden here. I already know exactly what you want and need. You know what I want and need. There's no pretext. Just two people giving each other something we can't give ourselves, and isn't that what marriage is anyway?"

  Her tongue slid across her bottom lip, her brows still pinched tightly together. "I'm still confused about what it is I'd provide you in this. If you think I'm becoming your sex slave or you're buying me—hard pass."

  He laughed. "None of that, Holly. You're giving me peace from all the pitying looks. My reputation returned. Stability. Companionship. My mother off my back about finding love again. Helping with the launch of Wyldefire." He slid his fingers up her arm, loving the way she trembled beneath him, her pupils darkening and her chest rising and falling faster with every second. He rounded her shoulder, sliding his hand to her neck until he cradled her face in his palm. She leaned into him, almost intrinsically, until their chests were pressed together. "Imagine everyone's face when we show up at the wedding tomorrow with a diamond ring on your finger. My life would be better than it has been in years."

  Her lashes fluttered as she lifted her gaze to his. "The wedding?"

  "Marry me, Holly Glen." These words were almost a whisper as he took her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers, gently nipping her flesh. "I can't do this alone. I don't want to."

  Her breath was ragged, and her breasts pushed against him with every inhale. "You're absolutely nuts."

  Cradling the back of her neck, he kissed her softly, giving them both what they wanted—needed. He knew he was insane. He knew that he was in no position to get married given the current secret he was holding on to. He didn't care. This plan would work. It'd give him back everything his brother and his ex had stolen from him. It would give him purpose, a future, and all while helping someone else who desperately needed it.

  Everything would work out and no one would have to find out
what he did…how he almost destroyed everything.

  "This is the last time I ask, Holly," he said between deep kisses. "Will you marry me?"

  A tentative smile spread across her lips before she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and matching his fervor. "I must be insane…"

  His body roared to life against her, craving more, harder, deeper, closer. "Then we're the perfect match."

  She sighed softly against his lips, despite the nagging knowledge in the back of her mind that this would all backfire.

  Yes.

  Chapter Seven

  "I honestly can't believe we're going to do this," Holly said between gasps as Sam gripped her hips and lifted her onto the bar.

  He pushed her knees apart and stepped between them. "We're fucking maniacs," he agreed, his lips brushing down her neck. Small nips, bites, licks, and kisses were placed on every inch of her jaw, neck, and collarbone until she felt like she was jelly in his hands. "But this is the answer. You're the answer to everything I need in my life."

  She didn't know what he meant by that, but she didn't really push for further explanation. She was way too distracted with everything going on in between her legs and against her skin. Honestly, everything about the last half hour had her mind reeling.

  She was engaged.

  Hell, she was literally getting married to the guy she'd had a crush on her entire life. And he was going to help her pay for all of her sister's medical bills, live together, and it seemed like he was also going to have sex with her.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  These kinds of things didn't just happen to her. Or anyone, really.

  Seriously, she wasn't sure what she had agreed to at this point. All she knew was that she needed a permanent solution for her sister's medical bills and Sam was offering her one. A very generous one. And one that she just plain and simply didn't want to say no to.

  Strangely enough, it seemed like he was as eager for it as she was. Like this was his way to stick a giant middle-finger up to his family and stop everyone from looking at him with pity like they have been doing the last few years. She'd seen it happen the other day with her friend, and it was clear how much he hated every second of other's sympathy. If she could help him with this…give him his power and independence back…hell, why wouldn't she?