Think, Adrienne.
The sheriff’s department. Yes! With any luck, one of the deputies that was there the night I picked up Liam will be on duty. Then I remember there’s no parking on the street. It’s after five o’clock. The parking garage attendant is off duty. I’ve seen enough movies to know an empty parking garage is a death trap for people like me. And by people like me, I mean anyone who isn’t Liam Neeson or Keanu Reeves… Or Batman.
I need somewhere public with a small parking lot.
Just off the next exit ramp, I spot a familiar black sign with pool sticks in the corner, and I know exactly what I have to do.
The Taproom distributes over seven-thousand barrels of beer every year. Over the last three years, Hector has been a fucking genius at increasing production capability. The business is his baby. The brewing is mine.
A large portion of our grain is grown and malted right here in North Carolina. I also only work with fruits and vegetables I can get locally in this region. I’m loyal, so my customers are loyal. The fire is a setback. Not having The Taproom open for on-premises sales isn’t going to make us go under. Even if it is depressing as hell.
Brewing beer is my job, watching people enjoy drinking it is my reward. I miss the shit out of that. I tell myself we’ll be up and running again soon enough. For now, I need to stay focused on what I do best.
“What do you think about using Torulaspora?”
Hector eyes me. “I think the production guys are gone, the contractor is gone, and it’s time for us to go too.”
“I’m serious.”
He quirks an eyebrow. I fucking hate when he does that. It means something sarcastic is about to come out of his mouth. “You want our beer to smell like apples?”
Since Torulaspora is a yeast derived from apple skins, I would say yes.
“Maybe. It would be different. We could lay down a few barrels and see how it goes.”
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s do it.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you weren’t sitting here staring off into space thinking about beer.” He chuckles and shakes his head then pulls a piece of gum from the pack in his pocket. “Jesus, you need therapy. Or pussy.” He tips his head from side-to-side as if he’s weighing the options. “Probably pussy.”
He has no idea how right he is. My balls feel like they’re full of concrete.
“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?”
He opens the wrapper of a piece of Juicy Fruit and shoves the gum in his mouth. “Is it about the hypothetical brunette?”
“I said it’s hypothetical. It’s not about anyone.”
He laughs. “Well, if you’re asking if you should hypothetically fuck her, here’s my answer: If you don’t, I will.”
I grab him by the shirt and get in his face. “I can kick your ass, Hero, and you better not fucking forget it.”
Hector is every bit as much of an asshole as I am. The difference is, I’m usually more level-headed. Too bad I reacted before I figured out what the hell he was doing. He was baiting me. Fucker.
I unfist my hand from his shirt then back away. “Sorry.”
“And there’s your answer. You don’t get that worked up over anything except beer.”
He’s right, as usual, so I just reply with a grunt.
Hector claps my shoulder. “I think we both need a drink.” I look around the brewery like what the fuck do you think this is? “A drink with other people,” he adds.
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling up at Shooters.
Inside the bar, the flat screens are all tuned into the game. A few guys in T-shirts and baseball caps are playing pool. There are a few people at tables.
And there’s Adrienne. She’s staring mindlessly up at the TV above the shelves of liquor, tracing her fingertip around the gold rim of her glass. Her hair is down, and her legs are crossed. The shorts she’s wearing don’t hide shit. That little crease where her muscle meets her thigh… fuck. She looks so good I actually groan when I see her. Fucking groan.
I turn to Hector. “Did you do this on purpose?”
“I wish I was that fucking good.” He runs his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “Looks like this one is all fate, my friend.” Then he claps my shoulder and leaves me standing there with my mouth open.
I slide onto the barstool beside her just as she’s downing the last of her beer. “Rough day at the office?”
Her eyes trace their way around my face. “You could say that.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Wanna talk about why you rushed out of the brewery with Liam like his life depended on it? Wanna talk about what an asshole I am? Wanna talk about why you’re sitting alone in a sports bar downing Stella like it’s Kool-Aid?
She looks straight ahead. “Not really.”
I don’t push because I get it. Some shit you just want to keep to yourself. I raise my hand for Vince to bring me a beer. We don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving without apologizing. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” But this thing with my brother is like a cut that just won’t go away. It will keep bleeding and bleeding until one of us bleeds out.
Vince sets a bottle of beer on the bar in front of me, and Adrienne points to her empty glass. “One more, please.” She turns to me and smiles, and goddammit if it doesn’t make my heart ache. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
This woman. This is the kind of woman that makes you want to be a better man.
“Can I get a mulligan?”
Her eyebrows lift, making her forehead crinkle. It’s the cutest shit ever. “A mulligan?”
“Yeah. A redo. Can we start today over?”
She grins, and it brightens her whole damn face. “I would love to start today over.”
Her words are like a gospel hymn on a Sunday morning. They’re my saving grace. Ever since she walked out of Hector’s office today, I’ve regretted every word I ever said to her about staying away. Adrienne was right about one thing. She isn’t weak. I see the way she handles the boys, the shit she deals with on a daily basis, the weight she bears on her shoulders. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. She’s not the weak one. I am.
Well, fuck that.
I wait for Vince to return with her beer before I pull her to the back where the dartboards are.
“This is your idea of starting over? By making me look like an idiot. I have never thrown a dart in my life.”
“A virgin, huh?”
A smile creeps across her face. “As pure as they come.”
The way she’s looking at me right now, no woman has ever looked at me this way. Ever. She’s looking at me like she wants me to own her, and I want to. God, I want to.
“Well then. By all means, let me be your first.” I pull three darts from their holder on the wall and hand her one. “I’ll even let you start.”
“So, I just throw it? That’s it?”
“Yep. You throw three. I throw three. If your dart misses, bounces off the board, or gets stuck in my dart, you don’t get any points.”
“Well that sounds easy enough.” She spreads her legs shoulder-width apart and focuses intently on the board in front of her. She straightens her shoulders and narrows her eyes, squaring up like she’s the motherfucking champion of darts.