Page 48 of Flights and Sights

The two investors looked at us, both of them blinking and nodding slowly with smiles fixed on their faces. It felt like an eternity stretching out between the moment Pax said he was going to pass and the moment Seth finally spoke.

“Let’s not be hasty,” he said eventually. “Tell us, what led you to this decision?”

“Well,” Paxton started. “Celestial Cask has existed here in the US for almost a hundred years, at least at its core. My Uncle Paul turned it into the commercial operation that I took over a decade ago. I always wanted to honor him by growing and expanding.”

“Which is where we come in,” Bill interjected.

Paxton nodded, a tight smile on his face. “Yes, of course. But after this morning’s pitch and our visit to Cinder and Malt, I see our visions for the future are simply too different to reconcile. There’s no way we can get from where we are now to where the Group wants to take us, not without giving up a lot of our soul on the way.”

Seth’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “We can certainly revisit the plans from this morning’s pitch, if that helps you feel more at ease.”

Pax shook his head. “I don't think it would. Unless you’re comfortable scaling way back and letting me retain controlling interest in the meadery, I think we’re just too far apart to find a middle ground. I’m just not sure what the Group is hoping for is close enough to what Callum and I are aiming for.”

What we’re aiming for? His inclusion of me in that statement didn’t go unnoticed, and my heart felt like it might burst. I felt so honored to be included in his speech, though I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it or if he was just including me because I was a part of this whole debacle.

He hesitated a moment and glanced at me with a small smile on his face before turning back to the investors. “Bill, Seth, I want to thank you for your time and energy. You certainly have given us a lot to think about. But as I said, we’re going to have to pass.”

Bill opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him and stood, Pax taking the cue and standing beside me. “We appreciate the kind words you’ve said about our work, but I have to agree with Paxton. Thank you so much for the trip. We can see ourselves out.”

With that, Paxton and I left the conference room and made our way to the elevators and back to the lobby. It didn’t take long until our rideshare came to pick us up, and as we climbed into the car, we both let out soft, giddy laughs.

“Wow,” I said. “I’m so proud of you.”

Paxton’s cheeks colored. “I couldn’t have done that without you beside me.”

His words made my stomach ache. I had to tell him how I felt. I had to. The need to connect with him was almost painful. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from doing anything dramatic in a rideshare car in the middle of Santa Clara on a random Thursday afternoon.

We were quiet the rest of the ride back to the hotel, but the second the room door closed behind us, I turned to him. “That was incredible.”

“What? Me turning down life-changing money?” He chuckled softly.

I laughed and shook my head. “You standing up for Celestial Cask. Sticking by your values and refusing to back down even in the face of a lot of money and power.”

He gave me a small smile and shy nod. “Thanks.”

I stepped close to him and put a hand on his waist, pulling him to me. “I know I already said this, but I’m really proud of you.”

He blinked at me a few times as if he were fighting off tears. “Thanks,” he repeated, this time, barely a whisper.

I put my free hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a tender, slow kiss. He let out a soft, pleased hum and wrapped his arms around me. We kissed for several long moments, neither of us seeming to be in a hurry to escalate things. When we parted, I ran my fingers through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we have the hotel room for another night. We weren’t planning to drive back until tomorrow morning. We could head home early, if you wanted.”

Paxton’s hand dropped to my hip and clutched at the waistband of my dress pants. “I have a better idea,” he whispered.

I leaned back to admire his body. “Did I tell you how sexy you look in these clothes?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think you did.”

“Well,” I murmured. “You do. You look so powerful and polished.”

He smirked. “As opposed to my usual messy look?”

“Don’t argue. You look hot and this,” I gestured to his clothes, “is really doing it for me.” Between us, I rocked my hips forward to prove it, my thickening cock rubbing against his pelvis.