The truth was, nothing really had happened. But it could have. There was a moment when all he could think about was kissing her. But then she’d reached out to touch him, and he’d stopped her by reflex.
He knew that if she touched him, he’d be a goner. He wouldn’t have wanted it to stop at a touch; he wanted more.
And that thought made him grit his teeth with anger. Because he shouldn’t want it. Not from her.
He was stronger than that.
“I wasn’t expecting you to drive to Charleston so soon. You should have told me, I’d have come with.”
Which was exactly why he hadn’t told her. He needed to be alone right now. Needed the distance between him and Hartson’s Creek to wash the memory of Friday night away.
“I have it handled. I’m meeting Lawrence and Nina for dinner tomorrow. We’ll discuss the proposed plans and then I’ll come home. I’m pretty sure you can handle the distillery without me for one day.”
“Of course we can, darling. But I worry. You’ll be outnumbered at dinner. Will Charles be there? And Melissa of course.”
“They will.” Charles was Nina’s husband. Part of the Charleston aristocracy. Nina had married well. And Melissa was Lawrence’s wife. And the less he thought about them the better.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s not a big deal. One meal and then I’ll be home. So stop worrying.”
“Do you have everything you need?” Eliana asked, sounding anxious. “Did you remember your—”
“Mom, stop. It’s all good. I’m here, I’m ready, and now I’m going to hang up and head out for a run. You didn’t worry when I was in Scotland, and you don’t need to worry now.”
“Scotland was out of sight, out of mind. It was easy not to worry about you when you were there.”
“Why not worry about Nathan, instead. Have you heard from him?”
“He called this morning. His night time. He’s settling in nicely.”
“That’s good.” Daniel was happy for his brother. Sure, he wished Nathan was here with him to even out the numbers between their father’s first family and his second. But if anybody deserved to experience new things, it was Nathan. He’d held the fort for too long.
“So I’ll see you Tuesday?” Eliana asked.
“You will. I’ll drive down in the morning, and should get to work by lunchtime. But if there are any problems, let me know and I’ll leave early.”
“There won’t be any problems. Not here, at least.” She sighed. “Please don’t let Lawrence get to you this time.”
“I won’t.” If anything it would be the other way around. He always knew what buttons to push with his brother.
Except for that one time that was better left forgotten.
He ended the call and walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. Night was falling, the sun dipping behind the Allegheny Mountains, their peaks silhouetted against the darkening sky. Like the rest of West Virginia, Charleston wasn’t big. With a population of just over forty-five thousand, it would probably be called a town anywhere else. But it housed the State Capitol, and was the center of political life.
It was also where his father had grown up. And his father before him. Their ancestral home was on the outskirts of town, occupied by Lawrence and his wife. Even with its modern buildings and political life, Charleston was a slower way of life. Bloodlines were important, manners were everything. And backstabbing was practically an artform.
Maybe that’s why he hated coming here. He always had. Even as a boy, he’d counted down the days to his summer vacations with a heavy heart, knowing that the family would decamp to the Jackson-Carter House, named after his great-great-great grandparents, or something like that. It was an old fashioned home built twenty years before the Civil War, where Lawrence and Nina would join Daniel and his family for two months of family summers, tension, and acrimony sizzling beneath their perfectly polite smiles.
He hadn’t been unhappy that Lawrence had inherited the home from their father. It wasn’t somewhere Daniel ever wanted to spend time, anyway. That slow, humid, stiff-upper lip lifestyle that his half-brother and sister led held no interest for him at all.
But at least while he was here, he wouldn’t be constantly thinking about Becca Hartson, and the way she’d stared at him as he held her wrist.
Or the deep, throbbing need he was starting to feel for her.
Shaking his head at himself, he tore his gaze away from the city scape and headed for the bedroom, changing into his workout gear and grabbing his ear pods. He couldn’t box today, not with the way his hands ached from two nights of pummeling his punchbag. Running would have to do.
Right now, physical exercise was the only thing that was stopping him from going mad.