by Carrie Elks
When We Touch
Carrie Elks
Contents
Join Me!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Author Note
Dear Reader
About the Author
Also by Carrie Elks
Acknowledgments
WHEN WE TOUCH by Carrie Elks
Copyright © 2021 Carrie Elks
All rights reserved
240521
Edited by Rose David
Proofread by Proofreading by Mich
Cover Designed by The Pretty Little Design Company
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are fictitious products of the author’s imagination.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Join Me!
I would love you to join me on my exclusive mailing list, where you’ll be the first to hear about new releases, sales, and other book-related news. Even better, by signing up you’ll receive an EXCLUSIVE novelette, not available anywhere else.
To download your book and sign up for my mailing list CLICK HERE
Thanks for reading! Carrie xx
Chapter One
If there was one thing Becca Hartson hated, it was saying goodbye. One way or another, she’d been saying it for most of her life. First to her mom – who’d died when Becca was only four. She could barely remember that goodbye, but her four older brothers had filled in the painful blanks.
And then one by one they’d left her, too. The eldest – Gray – to become a rockstar, then the twins, Cam and Logan, who went to college and settled down in Boston. And finally Tanner. Her playmate when she was a child and her bête noir as an adult. With only a few years between them, they’d spent most of their lives fighting like cats and dogs.
But she loved him anyway. And saying goodbye to him had been the hardest of all, because it meant she was alone in her childhood home with only her taciturn father and Aunt Gina, her mother’s sister who brought up the five Hartson siblings after their mother died, for company.
Yet one by one all her brothers had come back to live in town, making her beyond happy. Especially Tanner.
Even if right now he was driving her crazy.
“Move your hand away from the frosting before I chop it off.” She yanked the cake she’d spent two hours decorating out of his grasp. “Why are you here anyway? I have to leave for the distillery in twenty minutes.”
Her brother glanced at the Rolex Submariner on his wrist. Sure, he was aggravating, but Tanner Hartson was also rich as heck, thanks to selling his financial tech business a few years earlier. Nowadays he invested in property – it felt like he owned half of their small home town of Hartson’s Creek.
“Why are you going to work now? It’s nearly seven. You don’t work night shifts.”
Becca sighed. “It’s Nathan’s leaving party.” Her chest tightened all over again. Yep, she still hated goodbyes. “And this cake is for him. So I’ll repeat myself. Why are you here?”
“Well, first of all, because I’m the only one of us who’s free to check on you tonight.” Tanner looked around Becca’s small condo. “Is everything okay? Your neighbors been quiet? Anybody causing you problems?”
“Everything’s fine.” She shook her head, because seriously, her brothers drove her crazy. She’d moved out of her childhood home a few months earlier, into a condo she’d saved for all by herself. And it hadn’t gone over well with her family.
But she loved the little home she’d made here. With the cost of buying it, she hadn’t had much money available to decorate the rooms to her taste. Instead she’d scoured the local markets and thrift shops for furniture and paintings for the walls, draping the sofa with jewel colored embroidered throws and cushions she’d made from soft cashmere sweaters.
The only room she’d furnished from new was the kitchen. It was her baby. The place where she worked out all of her problems and stress. She loved her job at the local whiskey distillery, but it could be overwhelming at times.
Baking sweet, flaky creations was her way of pushing away the anxiety of being an adult.
“I don’t like the guy in number eight,” Tanner told her. “He’s shifty.”
“He’s almost eighty.” Becca shook her head. “You guys have to let go. I’m happy here. I’m safe, my neighbors are friendly and there’s no crime here at all. I even let you install those damn locks on the door. Now if that’s all you wanted, I need to get out of here.”
Tanner leaned on her breakfast bar, showing no intention of leaving. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to ask you.”
Becca glanced at the clock on her oven. She was definitely going to be late. “Can you make it quick?”
Tanner pouted. She’d always been jealous of his lips. Full, pink, and perfectly pouty. “I have a favor to ask,” he said, lowering his voice as if they were being monitored. “This goes no further, okay?”
Becca tried not to grin. “I could have so much fun with this, but I don’t have time. Okay, shoot. What’s the favor?”
“Van’s pregnant.”
“Oh my god!!” Becca squealed and hugged her brother tightly. “Congratulations. That’s amazing.”
Tanner rubbed her back with his flat palm. “Thanks. She’s suffering from morning sickness. Says the only thing she wants to eat is carrot cake. I bought some from the diner, but she just turned her nose up at it. So I… ah… wondered if you could make a cake for her tomorrow.”
“Poor Van.” Becca frowned with sympathy. “And of course I’ll make something. I can have it ready by mid morning.” Sure, she’d have to get up early, after a night partying with her workmates. But that was okay, right? “Has she tried anything else to curb the nausea?” she asked. “Maybe you should talk to Gray, remember how sick Maddie got when she was pregnant with the twins.”
Tanner paled. “We’re not having twins.”
Biting down a smile, Becca gently released herself from his embrace. “I know,” she reassured, even though twins ran through their family. “But Gray could probably suggest some remedies.”
“I’m not telling Gray. If I tell him, all of Hartson Creek will know within a day. And Van will kill me, because I promised to keep it a secret until the second trimester.” Tanner sighed heavily. “This being a father thing is hard.”
She rubbed his shoulder affectionately. “You’re going
to be a great father. And I’d love to reassure you, but I have ten minutes before I need to leave and I still have to shower and change.”
His hand reached out to touch the cake again.
“Tanner!” She gave him the stink eye. “Go now. Or your baby’s going to start life with a one-handed father.”
He put both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, you will. I’ll call when the cake is ready.”
Tanner kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”
She beamed. “Thank you.” There was nothing she loved more than seeing her brothers happy, even when they knew how to hit every single one of her buttons. “Now get out of here.”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving. Love you, frog face.” Tanner blew her a kiss.
Ugh. She loved him, too. But right now she had a party to get ready for.
Everybody was gathered in the main function room of the distillery when Becca got there thirty minutes later. She shuffled in, the oversized cake box precariously balanced in her arms, her bag slung over her shoulder bumping rhythmically against her hip.
By the time she got to the table and put the box down she was exhausted. Maybe she needed to hit the gym. She’d forgotten to go for at least the last two years.
“Oh wow,” the distillery’s receptionist, Sandy, breathed, looking over Becca’s shoulder as she unclipped the box and gently pulled the cake out. She was such a mother hen, she reminded Becca of her Aunt Gina. “What’s inside it?” Sandy asked.
“A triple layer Belgian chocolate sponge,” Becca told her. “Nathan’s favorite.” It was iced with a white chocolate ganache, and topped with dipped chocolate strawberries and chocolate swirls. “I figure if we kill him with sugar he might stay.”
Sandy squeezed her shoulder. “We’re going to miss him.”
Becca swallowed hard. She wasn’t going to cry tonight. Not even if her favorite boss was leaving for Tokyo in the morning. Nathan had been the first person to see potential in her when she’d started at the G. Scott Carter distillery straight after college. And over the past five years he’d promoted her several times, until she was one of the senior distillers, and the lead on their latest venture – the International Blend.
“It’s good that he has this opportunity, though,” Becca said, her voice thick. “He’s so excited about going to Japan.” He hadn’t stopped talking about it for months. The Okamoto Distillery was part-owned by Nathan’s family, and had provided a third of the whiskey for their latest International Blend. It was a coup – Japanese distilleries rarely let other businesses share in their products.
“Yeah. And he’s been working like a Trojan here for years,” Sandy agreed. “He deserves the break. It’s about time Daniel came home to take on some of the load.”
That was the other thing making Becca’s stomach feel like it was taking part in an Olympic gymnastic event. She’d never met Daniel Carter, but from the moment she’d started working here she’d heard of his reputation. He’d worked at the distillery for years, but had left for Scotland a few months before Becca had been recruited. People talked about his impeccable nose for whiskey, his perfectionism, and his no-nonsense attitude. His name was uttered in revered tones in the still rooms of G. Scott Carter. It made Becca nervous as heck, because he sounded the complete opposite to his brother, the lovely, laid-back Nathan.
She smiled at Sandy, who was staring at her expectantly. “It’ll be interesting to meet him.”
“I expect things will change around here.” Sandy nodded.
“Is that for me?” a warm voice asked, tickling her ear. Becca turned to see Nathan standing there, his warm face beaming at her.
“Yep. Freshly made today.”
“When did you get the time? You worked until five.” He was still smiling. Because that’s what Nathan did.
“I made the sponge this morning before work. Then iced it as soon as I got home.”
“You shouldn’t have put yourself to so much effort. Not that I don’t appreciate it, because I do. I’m going to miss your baking.” Nathan elbowed her gently.
“I can send treats to you in Tokyo. A little taste of home.”
“I’d like that.” He tipped his head to the side. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come work over there with me?”
Becca shook her head. “I can’t. I’m needed here.” Not at the distillery. But at home. If she wasn’t making cakes for somebody in the family, she was babysitting one of her nephews or helping one of her brothers out with an emergency. “But it’s tempting, I have to tell you.”
His eyes crinkled. “Liar.”
She laughed. “I’m not lying.” Okay, so maybe she was. Just a little. But she’d made him smile, so that was a win.
Over the years, her friends had asked her if there was more going on between her and Nathan than a boss-employee relationship. But the fact was, the friendship between them was purely platonic. She was used to having older brothers, and he was like an honorary sibling to her. They messed around, teased, and then when they had work to do, they knuckled down to it.
He knew her skills. Encouraged her when she lacked confidence in herself, and made her push herself forward when her natural instincts told her to hang back. It was Nathan who’d suggested her as one of the lead distillers on the International Blend, and it’s success had instilled her with a new level of self-assurance.
And now he was leaving.
Her throat tightened. She blinked to stop the tears but they formed anyway. She couldn’t cry this early in the evening. The party would go on for hours, and if she started now, she was going to sob all night. Inhaling a ragged breath, she picked up the cake box and put it to the side, swallowing hard to push away the sadness.
“You okay?” Nathan asked her.
“I just need a minute.” Another breath in. “I’m going to head to the bathroom, check my makeup.”
He patted her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Daniel’s a good guy, he’ll see your talent.”
She nodded wordlessly. She knew it was going to be fine. It always was. By tomorrow she’d be over this. The goodbyes would be forgotten and she could spend the weekend baking and seeing her family.
But first, she needed to get through tonight.
It felt like nothing had changed in the six years he’d been gone. The distillery looked exactly the same – the sprawling double high wooden clad exterior fronted by a glass reception, the familiar logo of G. Scott Carter emblazoned in large green lettering.
The evening sky had darkened, but the building was illuminated by downlights, a contrast to the gloom of the mountains rising in the distance.
Daniel Carter touched his credit card to the reader before climbing out of the cab, being sure to add a hefty tip for the driver. Tomorrow he’d pick up the car he’d ordered weeks ago.
But tonight, it was time to reintroduce himself to his distillery.
There was nobody at reception, even though the door was unlocked. He raised an eyebrow, making a note to himself to check the security protocols. Leaving his suitcases behind the desk, he pushed open the door that led to the oversized vaulted room that housed the distillery itself, inhaling sharply to take in the low undertones of mashed barley and yeast that dominated the air.
The equipment was off – the mash tuns that mixed the corn grists and water lay silent. He still stopped by them, checking for any rust or smells that didn’t seem quite right. Then he made his way into the next oversized room that housed the wash and spirit stills, their huge copper forms topped by a thick pipe that distillers called the swan neck.
In here he could hear the faintest rumble of conversation and a low thump of music. He’d thought he wouldn’t make it to his brother’s farewell party, but his flight had landed thirty minutes early, and the baggage handlers had been mercifully fast. So here he was, standing in the distillery he’d left without looking back six years ago, his body exhausted from eight hours travel and more
than twenty-four hours without sleep.
Pushing the door open to the office area, the thumping of the bass and the sound of voices got louder. But there was something else there, too. Something lower and softer that made him frown.
Stuttered breaths. Broken gasps.
Somebody was crying.
If he’d have thought it through, he would have walked away from the sound. He didn’t do emotions – not if he could help it – and he was certainly the last person who knew what to do when somebody was crying. Nathan was so much better at that. The empathetic brother to his strong, silent type.
But still, his curiosity got the better of him. He walked into the executive corridor that housed the directors’ suite. His mother’s office door was closed, no light spilling through the frosted window. So was the boardroom, and the office that used to be his own.
Nathan’s door was ajar. Daniel’s brows pinched together as he reached it, blinking at the sudden rush of light to his eyes.
His gaze clashed with a pair of almond shaped green eyes that seemed to see right through him. They were rimmed red, shiny with tears, thick lashes sweeping down as they blinked at their sudden connection.
It felt as though all the air had left his body. He inhaled sharply to replace it, his gaze dipping to take in the woman’s red, swollen lips. Her cheek was pressed against his brother’s chest, as Nathan softly stroked her hair.