Page 74
Story: The Heir (Crownhaven #1)
AIDEN
“ I think I could live here.”
I turn my head to see my wife stretching luxuriously on one of the cushions on the upper deck of the Beneteau.
“How was your nap?”
“So good.” She smiles at me, hazy and warm. She’s even more freckled than when we left, her skin golden after three days on the boat.
“Do you need more sunscreen?” I skim a finger up her arm.
Maybe if I can tempt her to take off her bikini top, she’ll let me put my mouth on her nipples again.
I had her in the cabin this morning and three times last night, but the way the crease of her thigh swallows her bathing suit makes my head swim.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do,” she says. “You’re not even being sneaky.”
“I don’t have to be sneaky,” I say, grinning at her.
She smiles back and then yelps as I grab her ankle and yank her toward me. “You,” I growl, “are mine.” I stretch myself over her. She arches under me.
“I belong to no man,” she says tartly.
I lick at the crease of her jaw. “And I love that about you. But maybe you can talk to management? See if I can have you on permanent loan?”
She hums in her throat and skates one palm up my back.
“Boating is very lonely,” she says. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Wench,” I growl in her ear before my phone dings, and I groan.
“Aiden,” she says warningly. “You said you’d text them back.”
I press a hard kiss on her mouth before I sit up and open the text thread with my siblings.
“They want to know when we’re coming back.”
Emory leans against the seat next to me, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on the cushioned edge. “What about your grandfather?”
“He reached out. Says he wants to talk.” I toss the phone down.
“They’re family, Aiden,” she says gently.
“I know.” I blow out a breath. “I just—running the company is never what I wanted.”
Her brows go up. “It isn’t?”
“I just like making whiskey. It makes me feel closer to my dad, and I love that it’s both art and science.”
Emory scoots over to lay her head on my shoulder.
“I think.” I take a long, shuddering inhale, feeling nervous all of a sudden that I’m about to tell her this. “I think I want to turn the company over to Tristan.”
She lifts her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Now that the words are out, a wave of relief floods my body.
“I don’t want to run a company. I want to make whiskey.
I want to help my family. But the corporate scheming, the negotiating, the schmoozing.
None of that is for me. And Tristan would be really good at it. He deserves a chance to prove himself.”
“I like that,” Emory says, before she lays her head back on my shoulder. “I’ve been thinking I might like to build something with you.”
My heart stutters. “Like what?”
“What if Prince-Hunter whiskey made a comeback?”
“I’d like that,” I say hoarsely. “But what about the expansion? I don’t want you to give up your dreams for me.”
“I think it’s time for me to admit that expansion wasn’t born from the right reasons.” I feel her swallow. “I was so focused on proving to everyone that we mattered, so focused on changing what they thought of me, but it seems silly now.”
“Helping your family isn’t silly.” I rest my cheek against her head, hoping she can feel how I would do anything for her, slay any dragon, fight any war.
“I know. But you make me feel like I can take a risk. Like maybe if I let myself dream, that things will be okay, even if I fail.”
My heart lurches. “Of course they will be,” I say hoarsely. This trust in me is a gift. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I know you will, Aiden. I love that about you.”
I roll her on to her back, my heart so full it might burst. “Nothing would make me happier than to build something with you,” I tell her honestly. Our gazes tangle.
“I don’t want to do it full-time,” she warns. “I want to get my teaching certificate, I think. Or maybe run a more substantial after-school program. But with the rest of my time, I’d really like to work with you.”
I press a hard kiss to her lips, feeling her smile under me.
“Bet our ancestors never thought they’d see the day,” she whispers.
I think back to the whiskey in the garden, a whiskey bottled for an event that represents enduring hope for the future.
“I think they’d know that this is exactly how it was supposed to turn out.”
She traces my mouth, her eyes sparkling. “And how’s that?”
“With love.”
Her breath catches. “I will never get tired of hearing you say that.”
“I’ll never get tired of saying it.” I drop a kiss on her neck. “I love—”
Another kiss on the crease of her jaw. “I love—”
“Aiden,” she complains, twisting to capture my lips.
“Patience,” I tell her, before I claim her mouth and twine my tongue with hers. I break the kiss when she’s panting. “I love you.”
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