Savannah's Secrets

by Reese Ryan

  Blake groaned.

  He was being paranoid. Admittedly, her sister’s text message didn’t look good. But it wasn’t as if Savannah had initiated a relationship with him. Or even wanted to come back to his house that night. Both had been his idea.

  Blake grabbed the crate and returned to his truck. Whatever the truth was, he’d find a way to get to the bottom of it.

  Sixteen

  Savannah sat down at the bar for a moment and ordered an energy drink.

  Most of the night’s pomp and circumstance had already played out. The Abbott family had taken the stage and thanked everyone—including the town of Magnolia Lake—for its support for the past half century. A handful of celebs, business executives and longtime employees had shared anecdotes about King’s Finest bourbon.

  A few other big names circulated throughout the crowd. They mixed it up with employees, townsfolk, distributors and the numerous reporters she’d invited.

  Savannah had been moving at warp speed for the past seventy-two hours. It wasn’t surprising she was tired. But tonight, she was unusually exhausted. And she’d felt slightly nauseous all day.

  She finished her energy drink. Then she ordered a ginger ale to allay the queasiness.

  “Everything okay?” Blake sat beside her.

  There was something going on with him. He’d been slightly aloof since he brought the crate to her.

  She’d tried to create distance between them in their public dealings. But there was something about Blake’s sudden indifference that made her feel she was standing naked in a blizzard, desperate to come in from the cold.

  Blake wore the expensive sand-colored suit and navy-and-white gingham-check shirt she’d selected for him during a recent visit to Nashville. It suited the man and the occasion. Serious and elegant with a bit of playfulness beneath the refined surface.

  “Everything is fine. It’s just been a really long couple of days. I’m a little run-down.”

  “Anything else wrong?” He turned slowly on the bar stool to face her. For the first time, he was sizing her up.

  Judging her.

  A chill ran down Savannah’s spine. She wasn’t imagining it. Something was wrong. Had she left an incriminating note on her desk?

  Impossible.

  She didn’t handwrite notes about the Abbotts or the distillery. She captured digital notes in her phone.

  My phone.

  It’d been in the box Blake delivered to her. Had he gone through it and found her notes?

  Savannah forced a smile. No point in panicking without good reason. That would only make her seem guilty.

  “Everything is good. Nearly everyone who RSVP’d made it. All of the staff and musical acts showed up. Things are running smoothly.” As she spoke, Savannah inwardly ticked off possible reasons for Blake’s change in attitude. “People seem to be enjoying themselves, especially your grandfather.”

  “Haven’t seen him that emotional since my grandmother died ten years ago.” Blake’s stony expression softened. His eyes met hers. “I can’t thank you enough for giving him all this.”

  Savannah’s spine was as stiff as her smile. When she’d proposed this event, she’d hoped it would be the night she humiliated the Abbotts. The night when she pulled back the curtain and revealed the ugly truth that they were cruel, heartless liars and thieves who’d taken credit for her grandfather’s work.

  “My pleasure.” Savannah finished her ginger ale and stood. “I have to go powder my nose.” Her bladder was clearly unable to keep up with the amount of liquids she’d consumed throughout the day. “See you later.”

  Blake caught her hand in his and pulled her closer. He searched her eyes, as if seeking an answer to some burning question.

  “What is it, Blake?” Savannah glanced around, her cheeks hot. She ignored the bartender’s sly grin. “There’s obviously something you want to say.”

  He averted his gaze. “Wrong place. Wrong time.” He nodded toward the restrooms. “We can talk later.”

  Savannah made a beeline for the bathroom. But she couldn’t help thinking that whatever it was Blake wanted to ask her would be the beginning of the end.

  * * *

  As Savannah exited the restroom, a hand reached out from the doorway of the back office and pulled her inside. She immediately recognized the scent and the hard body pressed against her.

  “What on earth is going on?” Savannah whispered angrily. Blake had nearly given her a heart attack.

  “We need to talk, and I’d rather do it without my mother and sister staring at us.”

  “Why would they be staring at us? Wait... Does your mother suspect, too?”

  Blake didn’t respond.

  “That’s why she’s been looking at me like that all night. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “That’s not the pressing issue right now.” Blake was agitated.

  Her heart beat faster. “What is?”

  “What’s happening between us... It isn’t a game for me. And regardless of what you say, this isn’t just about sex for you, either.” He took a deep breath. “So I want you to tell me the truth. Is there something you’re keeping from me?”

  Savannah’s blood ran cold, and her throat was dry.

  “What are you asking me, Blake?”

  “Are you unhappy at King’s Finest?” He frowned.

  “Of course not. I told you, I belong here. I’ve never had a job I enjoyed more.”

  “Are you entertaining another job offer?”

  Savannah felt a sense of relief. “How could you ask me that? Hasn’t tonight’s gala proven how important this company is to me?”

  “It would appear so. Still—”

  “Still...what?” Savannah wouldn’t blink first. If Blake thought he knew something, he’d have to ask her directly. She wouldn’t volunteer information unnecessarily and compromise the mission. Not when she finally had a chance to question Joseph Abbott.

  Blake gripped her shoulder, his fingers warm against her skin. His eyes demanded the truth. Something she couldn’t give him.

  Not yet.

  “Savannah, it’s been a long time since I cared this much for anyone. So if this doesn’t mean the same to you, tell me now. Before I get in deeper.”

  Her hands trembled. Blake’s expression was so sincere. It reminded her of all the things she adored about him.

  Why did she have to hurt him?

  “I...I...” She swallowed what felt like a lump of coal. “I can’t answer that right now. Please, give me some time. This relationship is still new. What’s the rush?”

  “Is that what this is, Savannah? A relationship?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, pushing her hair behind her ear. “And it’s all I can offer right now. Please, just be patient.”

  Blake palmed her bottom and pulled her closer. His mouth crashed against hers in a searing kiss that took her breath away.

  Her body filled with heat. The hardened tips of her breasts were hypersensitive as they grazed his rock-solid chest.

  “Blake...” Her objection died on his lips.

  He turned her around, jerking her against him. His erection was pinned between them. Blake squeezed her full breasts. They felt tender, almost sore. Yet she craved more of his touch.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Savannah.” His voice was thick as he trailed kisses along her shoulder. His beard sensitized her skin.

  He kissed the back of her neck, his hand lightly gripping her throat. Blake hiked her skirt and glided his hand up her inner thigh. He palmed the drenched space between her thighs.

  She moaned with pleasure as he ran firm fingers back and forth over the silky material that shielded her sex.

  When Blake kissed her ear, Savannah nearly lost all control. Her knees quivered as Blake slipped his hand inside the fabri
c. Her flesh was so sensitive she could barely stand it.

  “Blake, yes. Please.”

  She needed him inside her. Her mind was so clouded with lust, she didn’t care about the risk they were both taking.

  She only cared about Blake Abbott making love to her. Making her feel as only he could. As if there was no one in the world but the two of them.

  Blake unfastened his pants and freed himself. She lifted her skirt higher to accommodate him as he shifted her panties aside and pressed his thick head to her slick entrance.

  Savannah nearly lost it when he massaged her clit.

  She pressed back against him, needing him inside her.

  “You sure about this, baby?” Blake breathed the words in her ear.

  She nodded, wanting desperately to bear down on his thick length. She hadn’t missed a single day of her birth control since the storm.

  With one hand still moving over her sensitive flesh, he grabbed the base of his shaft with the other. He pressed himself inside her.

  They both groaned with pleasure.

  Whatever happened between them later, they would always have moments like this.

  Moments in which she couldn’t deny how much she cared for him. That she was falling in love with him. And maybe he was falling in love with her, too.

  Savannah braced herself against a cabinet as Blake brought her closer to the edge. His hand moved over her slick flesh as he thrust inside her. Taking them both higher.

  Her legs trembled and her whimpers grew louder. Blake clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cries as he whispered in her ear, telling her all of the deliciously dirty things he wanted to do to her once he got her back to his place.

  The sounds of people laughing and talking outside the door didn’t deter either of them from their singular goal: to bring each other pleasure.

  Savannah was floating higher. Dizzy with her desire for him. Finally, pleasure exploded in her core. She shuddered, weak and trembling, muttering his name against his rough palm still pressed to her lips.

  Soon afterward, Blake stiffened, cursing and moaning. He held her in his arms, their chests heaving and their breath ragged. Both of them seemed reluctant to be separated from the other’s warmth.

  He’d made her feel incredible. Yet she was quickly overcome by a wave of sadness. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids.

  Would this be the last time he’d hold her, make love to her?

  “I’ll leave first,” he said after they’d made themselves presentable. “Wait a few minutes before you come out.”

  Blake reached for the doorknob. He paused and turned back to her. “Are you sure you don’t need to tell me anything?”

  She shook her head, her heart breaking. “Nothing at all.”

  It was a lie from which they would never recover.

  Eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed, he turned and slipped out of the door, leaving her alone with the bitter tears that spilled down her cheeks.

  * * *

  When she got back to the party, Savannah hid in the shadows near the back of the room, trying to regain her composure and make sense of the change in Blake’s mood. Her skin prickled and her breasts still throbbed from her encounter with Blake.

  “This is quite the affair you’ve orchestrated, young lady.”

  Savannah nearly dropped her clipboard and cell phone. “Mr. Abbott.”

  Joseph Abbott stood beside Savannah as she surveyed the crowd, the smell of bourbon heavy on his breath. “My granddaughter tells me that even the decision to renovate this old barn was your idea.”

  Savannah’s fists clenched so tightly she wouldn’t have been surprised if blood dripped from her palms. Her throat seized, rendering her mute. She swallowed hard, forced herself to smile in the face of the devil who’d been the catalyst for every devastating thing that had happened in their lives.

  “Yes, sir. It was. I’m thrilled you’re pleased.” Once the muscles of her larynx relaxed enough for her to speak, she oozed warmth. Like honey. Sticky and sweet. Because she was more apt to catch a fly with honey than vinegar. “I must admit, I’m obsessed with the story of how you started King’s Finest all those years ago with nothing more than your father’s bourbon recipe and his moonshine stills.”

  There was a flash of something across the old man’s face. Sorrow? Regret? Whatever it was, for an instant, he looked every bit of his seventy-plus years.

  “It’s not that simple, I’m afraid. Nothing worthwhile ever is. I had the support of my family. Of people who helped me make this happen.”

  Savannah turned to the man. Her heart racing. “Like who?”

  His gaze didn’t meet hers. There was a far-off look in his eyes. One that would’ve made her feel sorry for the old man, if he hadn’t destroyed her family’s lives.

  He didn’t answer her, and for a moment they both stood in silence.

  “My father died in a car accident when I was young. I wanted to revive his moonshine business, but I didn’t know much about it. I partnered with someone who could teach me the ropes.”

  Savannah’s stomach churned. Her fingers and toes tingled. Time seemed to slow.

  She was finally going to get her proof from the mouth of Joseph Abbott himself. Savannah turned on the recording app on her phone.

  “There’s no mention of a partner in the company story on the website.” Or anywhere else she’d looked.

  “We dissolved the partnership before I incorporated King’s Finest.”

  That explained why Savannah hadn’t been able to find proof that her grandfather was a partner in the distillery.

  But if Joseph Abbott had used her grandfather’s recipe, wouldn’t that still give him claim to part of the company’s profits?

  “Who was your partner, Mr. Abbott?”

  The seconds of silence between them seemed to stretch for an eternity.

  Joseph Abbott rubbed his forehead, finally raising his gaze to hers.

  “Forgive me, Miss Carlisle. I’m afraid this lovely affair has been a bit too much excitement for an old man like me after my travels yesterday.”

  “But, Mr. Abbott—”

  “Please, excuse me.” The old man nodded his goodbye, then made his way across the room to where Duke and Iris stood.

  Savannah’s belly clenched and her hands shook. She’d been so close to learning the truth. To getting the information she needed to change her family’s fortune.

  She’d pushed too hard and spooked the old man. Now he’d never tell her the truth. Worse, there was a wary look in his eye before he’d fled. As if he’d seen her intentions.

  Joseph Abbott wouldn’t tell her anything more.

  Savannah wiped away the hot tears that leaked from her eyes. Giving up wasn’t an option. Not when she was this close. She’d find another way.

  Her phone buzzed. It was a text message from Laney.

  Did you get my previous text?

  Laney knew how important the gala was to her. She’d obviously forgotten this was the night of the event. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have expected a timely reply.

  Savannah scrolled up the message chain.

  It’s been two months. Give up and come home. I feel icky lying to Gramps. Giving you one week. Won’t do it anymore.

  If her grandfather learned what she’d been doing, he’d insist that she stop putting herself at risk by working in what he referred to as “a den of hyenas.”

  Just when she was so close to finding answers.

  Savannah quickly typed a reply.

  Please think about what you’ll be doing, Laney. I’m so close. Nearly got Joseph Abbott to admit everything just moments ago.

  Savannah stared at her phone, as if that would make Laney’s response come any faster.

  Another alert came.

  Two weeks. No more.

 
; Savannah huffed. That didn’t give her much time, but two weeks was better than one.

  It was time to beat the Abbotts at their own game. She’d have the same level of callous disregard for them as Joseph Abbott had for her grandfather. She’d be as ruthless as Duke Abbott had been when he’d acquired Kayleigh Jemison’s family property for a song.

  She’d do whatever it took to resolve the issue once and for all.

  Even if the truth would hurt Blake.

  Seventeen

  Blake stood at the window in his office, watching as a gentle breeze stirred the water on the lake. He shut his eyes for a moment, but it made no difference.

  Eyes wide open or tightly shut, Savannah Carlisle had taken up residence in his head.

  Blake groaned and returned to his chair. He finished his third cup of coffee and scrolled through his emails.

  He’d made a couple of phone calls and answered a few emails. Otherwise, he’d gotten very little done. Instead, he’d been rehashing Laney’s text message to Savannah. He imagined a dozen different scenarios her message could have alluded to. None of them good.

  Blake picked up his desk phone to call Savannah. She’d been avoiding him since the night of the gala, more than a week before. And she’d made every excuse imaginable for why she couldn’t come to his place.

  Regardless of the consequences, they had to have this conversation. He’d confess to reading the text message and demand an explanation.

  The door to his office burst open.

  Blake hung up the phone. “Parker, don’t you ever knock?”

  His brother slipped into a chair on the other side of his desk, not acknowledging his complaint. “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About whom,” Parker corrected him. “Savannah.”

  Blake’s spine stiffened and the muscles in his back tensed. He took another gulp of his coffee and shrugged. “What about her?”

  “I’m concerned.”

  “About?”

  Parker leaned forward, his voice lowered. “She’s been asking a lot of questions.”