by Natalie Ann
Hopping back in his truck, he brought it around, shut it off, hooked the cables on, then started it back up.
“Give me your keys,” he said, holding his hand out. She handed them over without saying a word and if the touch of her fingers on his palm sent heat to multiple places in his body, he wasn’t admitting it...even with a clown chasing him. And anyone who knew him knew nothing scared the shit out of him more than clowns, not that he ever admitted it to someone new if he didn’t need to. That’d be like shouting to the world what a wuss he was.
He squeezed his much bigger frame into her car, his knees hitting the steering wheel, then turned the key, but it wasn’t moving. Not even cranking over. “How old is this battery?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had the car six years after my grandfather gave it to me when he got a new one. I haven’t put one in it in that time.”
Since the car was easily double that age, he was thinking nothing was going to get it to turn over. “Let’s go get you a new battery and I’ll swap it out for you.”
“What? You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t need to do anything. I want to. Your choices are we call a tow truck, which will cost you a fortune on top of what a garage will charge to fix it on a Sunday night, if you can even find someone to do it. Or I can run to the auto supply store before it closes and change it for you.”
“When you put it that way,” she said, “then I’d appreciate the help.”
He locked her car, shut his off, unhooked the cables from both vehicles. Then he climbed back in his truck with Jessica in the passenger seat and left the parking lot. She was quiet for the first five minutes, which was completely unlike her. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, why?” she asked.
“You’re normally pretty chatty,” he said, turning to look at her.
“But you don’t like to talk.”
He laughed. “Not much, but I do talk despite popular opinion. It doesn’t mean you have to stop talking in my presence.” He had no clue where those words came from. He never wanted people jabbering around him, yet he didn’t mind it with her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“How did you learn to brew beer? Did you take classes? I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don’t see you sitting in an Intro to Beer Making class.”
He snorted. “No. I never took a class on brewing. My parents owned a bar, which I know you’re aware of. My father was always experimenting with beers. He couldn’t seem to get it right. I decided to help him one day and it just took over from there.”
“So you’re self-taught?”
“Pretty much. You know as well as I do, that the biology and chemistry background is important.”
“That’s true,” she said.
“Do you want to learn how to do it? I mean do you want me to show you what I do?”
Her eyes all but popped out of her head. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I know you’ve got classes and such, but I’ll let you know what I’ve got going on on certain days and if you can swing by on breaks or whatnot, just let me know.”
He’d mentored others before, but they were employees. Well, she was an employee, but still. She was smart and had a vast knowledge already. It wouldn’t hurt to spend some one-on-one time with her. Would it?
Innocent Reactions
She had to be dreaming right now. She couldn’t be in Mason’s truck on her way to an auto repair store to buy a battery.
Well, that wasn’t so much a dream, more like an embarrassing reality that always seemed to happen to her. But the fact he was talking with her and offering to show her how he worked. How he made his beer. Spend some time with her. Amazing!
Should she read more into it? Probably not. That stupid crush. She had to get it out of her head.
He was her boss.
He was only helping her out.
He was being nice.
He was older than her.
He wouldn’t be interested in someone like her.
Here she was thinking of all the same reasons why she never approached a guy her whole life. The problem was, she couldn’t imagine putting herself out there. She had no clue what he was feeling and sure the hell wouldn’t ask.
She may like to talk, but she wasn’t about to set herself up for even more humiliation. She’d experienced enough of that in her life as it was.
“That’d be great,” she said. “I’d love to learn whatever you’d be willing to show me.”
She hoped that came out right, fearful her reply was a little breathy, a little catchy, and bordering on sexy, but she was fighting not to wave her hand in front of her face to cool off right now.
She was saved by Mason turning into the parking lot of an auto repair store. She followed him in and let him take the lead because she was clueless and would have had to ask for help on what to buy. He walked to where the batteries were, looked them over and took one off the shelf.
When they got to the register and he started to pull his wallet out, she put her hand on his arm. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“It was my idea.”
“Yes. And it’s a lot cheaper than if I called a tow truck and brought it to a garage. Regardless, it’s still my car and I’ll pay for it.”
He just nodded his head, so she pulled her credit card out. Maybe he thought she was some poor college student. Well, she kind of was, but not that bad.
She had loans that paid all her living expenses and she was very frugal. The job at Fierce was just giving her some spending money, but even then, she didn’t spend a lot.
With the battery paid for, Mason picked it up off the counter and they made their way back to his truck. She was starting to hate the silence, thinking she insulted him back there when she grabbed his arm. “Can I treat you to dinner or something for this? I really appreciate it.”
“I’m good,” he said.
What more was she supposed to say right now? If she apologized, he might think she was thinking more of the whole interaction than what it was. She asked him to dinner and he said no. She didn’t need to be told again. He was clear. He wasn’t interested.
The rest of the ride was in silence again, this time with her mind focusing on schoolwork in order to take it off of Mason sitting next to her...who just turned her down.
“Stay in the truck and keep warm,” he told her as he got some tools out of the back and went over to her car. He’d left the truck running with the headlights pointed on her car.
She nodded and watched him gracefully walk over. Did she ever notice that before? That he had such a quiet and graceful walk? Probably wasn’t smart to keep noticing things like that now.
It didn’t take him long to change over the battery and get her car running. She hopped out of his truck then and walked over. “Thanks.”
“I’ll follow you home if you don’t mind.”
“Why?” she asked.
“To make sure I didn’t mess it up,” he said, his grin teasing her. She liked this side of him.
“It started though.”
“It did, and it’s probably fine, but if I don’t follow you home for my own peace of mind, then I’ll be wondering if something happened.”
“If it makes you feel better,” she said, climbing into her car.
“It would.”
***
Mason shut her car door and walked over to his truck to follow her home. He didn’t need to follow her since he knew her address. He looked it up one day last week for some reason.
Curiosity, maybe? He wanted to see if she lived on campus. She didn’t. She lived in an apartment complex about ten minutes away from the school. He didn’t figure her as someone living in the dorms. He knew how much he’d hated it and couldn’t wait to get out on his own.
He would have figured growing up in his house he’d be used to all the people and noise, but he wasn’t. He’d shared a room with Aiden an
d Aiden and he were the two quieter of the bunch. Not that anyone was as quiet as him, but still, they respected each other most of the time…when they weren’t trying to get on each other’s nerves.
But that last year of college, he’d had enough. He’d researched and found it was the same cost to live off campus than on with the meal plan. His parents agreed, his mother laughing that she was surprised it’d taken him as long as it had to even bring it up.
Sooner than he hoped for, he pulled into Jessica’s parking lot and stopped next to her. He rolled the window down and she walked over and leaned up, putting her hand on his arm hanging out the window. “Thanks again. I appreciate it.”
He did something he couldn’t ever remember doing. He changed his mind. “I sure am hungry. How about you?”
Her eyes widened again, her mouth parting. It was sexy, but she probably wasn’t even thinking that. She was probably sitting there wondering if he was mad at her for some reason.
She’d been quiet on the ride back from the store and he figured he’d come off too brusque when she asked about dinner. He hadn’t meant to. He just needed to get away from her.
She was taking up too much of his thoughts lately. Her innocent reactions to everything he said and did. But after tonight, he realized that she might be feeling some of what he was.
That she might be afraid to say something about it too. That she asked him for dinner and he’d said no. For as talkative as she was, he was guessing she was awkward. Shy maybe, when it came to men.
He’d seen men hitting on her on the tours and she never reacted at all. Either it went over her head, or she was good at pushing it off, ignoring it. Or she was gay. Geez, was she? Was he totally reading this the wrong way?
Nah, he didn’t think so. But if he did anything to hurt her feelings tonight, he wanted to rectify that.
“Yeah. I’m hungry too,” she said. “I could cook you something. I mean we’ve been outside for a bit and it’s chilly, rather than leave and come back again. Your choice. Really. Sorry. You brought it up.”
She was rambling. She was nervous. It made him smile. She made him smile.
“You don’t need to cook, unless you want to.”
She paused for a second, seeming to hesitate. “It’s nothing like Aiden’s food, but I’ve got sauce and meatballs in the fridge. I made them yesterday. I tend to do things like that. Make something and eat it for days.”
“Sauce and meatballs sound good.”
He shut his truck off and followed her to her apartment. She was on the first floor. When she opened the door and flipped the lights on, it was easy enough to see she lived alone. The place wasn’t big enough for two people.
Just a tiny galley kitchen with two bar stools against a counter to eat. No table, only one couch and chair and a small TV on the wall with a desk in another corner. That was the living space.
“No roommates,” he asked, just to check.
“No. One bedroom and bath. I was sick of living with people. I just wanted my own space and some quiet.”
He smiled. “I did the same thing my last year of college.”
He took his jacket off, then placed it in her outstretched hand. “Have a seat. What kind of beer do you want? It’s the least I can do.”
She opened her fridge and stood to the side. He wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t see. “Are those some of my competitors’ beers in there?”
She giggled. “Sorry. I had them before I started working at Fierce.”
“I’ll take one off your hands.”
She looked shocked. “You don’t want one of yours?”
“I drink mine all the time. It’s nice to see what my competitors are doing.”
“That’s true.” She pulled one out and got a glass from the cabinet and handed it over with a bottle opener. Then she set about warming up a pot she pulled out of the fridge and filled another with hot water. “It won’t be long.”
“Take your time. I’m not in a hurry.” Which was odd since he usually couldn’t wait to get home each night and relax. Here he was wanting to stay in her company.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
She turned and looked at him. “You want to have small talk? Why?”
Wow, guess maybe he really did put her off. Or give the wrong impression earlier. “Just talking. No hidden reason. Anything else you’d rather talk about? You can ask me questions if you want. I know you like to talk.” He added a grin for good measure, hoping he could get her to warm up to him again.
“Minnesota. Just outside of the St. Paul area.”
“Any siblings?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer. She’d just opened up a bottle of Fierce Five for herself. A woman drinking beer always turned him on. Not the cheap watered-down stuff, but the heavy stuff that took more care to brew. His stuff.
“Two half brothers that are younger than me from my father’s second marriage.” He nodded. The tone of her voice said a family conversation might not be the thing to have right now. He could respect that. “What’s it like growing up as a quintuplet?”
“We get asked that a lot. Not much different than growing up with other siblings, I’m sure.”
“Really?” she asked, scrunching her nose. “That stinks. I was kind of hoping you guys could feel what the others were doing and such.”
He laughed. “I don’t want to feel what my brothers or Ella are doing. Believe me. Seriously. It’s different. Very competitive. We all have our own personalities though.”
“Brody seems very in your face. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘stand back, I’m here and you’re going to listen to me’ kind of way.”
“That’s Brody. The oldest and has always been the leader of the group.”
“Who’s next?” she asked, leaning on the counter and staring right at him, her light brown eyes holding his attention.
“Aiden by five minutes. Then me, Cade, and Ella. All about five minutes apart.”
“The middle child. They say that is the one that always gets overlooked.”
“I don’t know that any of us were ever overlooked.” There were times in his life he’d wished he didn’t have as much attention on him. “We’re all pretty unique.”
“Aiden seems like he can do anything he wants to do by just snapping his fingers.”
He snorted. “He’s the most confident of us, with reason. But it’s in his field. He couldn’t walk in the brewery and do much more than tell me the difference between hops and oats. Not that he would admit that if others were around.”
“Do any of your other siblings know how to brew?”
“Not really. They know the basics, but no one wants to learn. Just like no one wants to learn to cook like Aiden.”
“What does Cade do then?”
“Annoy the shit out of us,” Mason said, laughing. “He runs all the promos and marketing. He’s also a lawyer and handles all the legal ends of the business.”
“And Ella deals with all the finances.”
“Yep. And everything else that none of us want to deal with.”
“That’s not very nice,” she said, smiling at him. He was glad she seemed to be warming up again. Maybe even flirting...
“She’s always been the boss of us four boys, so we told her she could take it all on anyway.”
“I like your sister. She’s not someone anyone would mess with.”
“Nope. She holds her own, but then again, she didn’t have much of a choice with four older brothers.” He didn’t care what Ella said; she loved every minute of calling all the shots.
Jessica moved away when the water started to boil and dumped the pasta in, then grabbed two plates out. She set them in front of him and he pushed back from the counter swiftly, almost toppling the chair over as he stood.
“What?” she asked looking down.
“Why are there clowns on your plates?”
“It’s just two little ones on the edge. They’re cute.”
“Clowns are not cute.”
She burst out laughing. “You’re not afraid of clowns, are you?”
He hesitated answering and decided she’d been upfront with him so far, that he’d do the same. It’d let him know right away if she thought less of him because of it.
“Yes. I am. You’ll hear my siblings busting on me about it. So I’ll tell you now. It’s true.”
“I’ll take them away,” she said, laughing under her breath, then putting plain white ones down in front of him. “Why are you afraid of clowns?”
“It doesn’t matter. Ella is too. Both of us.”
“Which one of your siblings did something to you?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. She was the first person who ever asked that. Who ever figured it out. She wasn’t judging, it was just curiosity. Ella and he never wanted to talk about it. It was too embarrassing.
“It’s a little early for me to be telling you any of my deep dark secrets,” he said, surprised he almost wanted to.
“I’ll get it out of you someday.”
The scary part was, she might.
They ended up eating their meal chatting back and forth about beers and biology. He liked being with someone that had so much in common with him and was disappointed when he realized he should leave. It was later than he thought, but the time seemed to fly by.
He was getting his jacket on after he helped her clean up, when she asked him, “What was this all about tonight?”
He smiled at her. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. That’s why I’m asking.”
She wasn’t smiling this time though. “What do you want it to be?”
This time she sighed, a light pink hue creeping up her neck. “I’m not good at this. These types of games or activities.”
He choked on that. “What kind of games or activities are you talking about? We just had dinner.”
“Like dates. If that is what this was. I’m not sure, that’s why I’m asking,” she rushed out really fast.
“It could be considered a date if you want it to be.”
“What do you want?”
This conversation was getting out of hand. “You work for me. So it’s what you want, not what I want. I’ll respect your answer either way and it won’t affect your job.”
