Any Luck at All

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Well, you showed him,” River said, because she had, and then some. “If Mr. Big Britches was such a good businessman, shouldn’t he have recognized a multimillion-dollar opportunity when he saw one?”

  “Did I, though?” she asked, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m not going to lie, River. I wanted him to grovel at my feet. My therapist would probably have something to say about it, but I sent him the article about the sale. He never acknowledged it. Still hasn’t. I’m a joke to him, and he treats Adalia even worse. The only reason he ever took any notice of us was because my mother insisted. After she died, we were beneath his notice. And Jack…”

  “And Jack was always beneath his notice. It’s none of my business, but do you still see your father? I mean, outside of the will reading.”

  Her expression held not a little bit of bitterness when she nodded. “He summons us sometimes. For family photo ops, that kind of thing, and we usually spend the holidays at the family house. I always tell myself it’s just to see my brother and sister, and because my mother would want it that way, but a part of me always hopes it will be different. Even though I’m old enough to know better. I don’t know if he’s ever talked to Jack at all. As far as I know, he hasn’t.”

  Because she’d told him something private about herself, something he doubted she shared with many people, he found himself wanting to do the same.

  “I understand Jack a little. Or at least I think I do. I never knew my father either.”

  She shifted her hand, and for a moment, he thought she was pulling away, but instead she turned it around and wove her fingers through his. Her grip was firm and assured, and it felt like a lifeline.

  “Oh?” she said, giving him the opportunity to talk but not insisting on it.

  He squeezed her hand back. “I still don’t. I don’t know who he was or where he was from, but I suspect he might be Chilean. My mother was traveling through Chile before I was born.”

  “Is that a picture of your mother on the mantel?” She winced a little after she said it, like she couldn’t believe she’d asked him, or maybe she was just mortified that she’d called herself out for snooping.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I can’t seem to get rid of it. Funny, isn’t it, how you can still care about someone after they’ve treated you like you’re nothing?”

  “No,” she said, “it’s not funny at all. But you, River Reeves, are not nothing.”

  And then she leaned across the table and kissed him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Georgie hadn’t meant to kiss him, but everything had been too perfect. Making beer, River’s eagerness to teach her, and his affection for the puppy. The way he’d opened up after she’d spilled her embarrassing truth about her father, something she’d told no one in so much detail. Her head told her that this couldn’t happen, but her heart…oh, her heart. Her heart was smitten with him—no, more than that, it was enamored. Those eyes of his seemed to see the real her through the put-together image she tried so hard to maintain—not Georgie Buchanan, businesswoman, but Georgie the woman, who wanted to love and be loved. But it was more than that. Her heart recognized that River was a truly good man—loyal, trustworthy, fun. He had a way of taking a bad situation and making it better. So her heart rebelled, and for the first time in her thirty-three years, she let it take the lead, reason be damned.

  Her lips pressed lightly to his—the kiss a question for him to answer. She was technically his boss, and he might think this was as bad of an idea as her head insisted, only he didn’t pull away. He leaned closer, only an inch or two as his hand lightly cupped her cheek.

  Her body was alive, but the tenderness of his touch, as if she was something precious to treasure, drew her to him like a magnet.

  Wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, she tugged him closer and deepened the kiss, and he eagerly accepted the invitation, exploring her mouth with his tongue.

  But then her stomach grumbled, and River pulled back with a grin. “It is pretty late. We should probably think about something for dinner other than cinnamon rolls.”

  Damn her stomach. She leaned back in her chair, realizing her hips were sore from leaning into the table. It wasn’t very romantic leaning across the kitchen table to kiss him, yet the happiness on River’s face made it clear he didn’t have a problem with it.

  “How about we order pizza?” he asked, already getting up to grab his phone from the kitchen counter.

  “Yeah,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, her head already swooping in for damage control.

  “Do you have a preference for toppings?” he asked.

  She got up and grimaced as she turned to face him. “Maybe we should just call it a night. It’s been a pretty long day.”

  Disappointment flickered over his face, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “Of course, Georgie, but you’re still staying at the hotel, right? Unless you were planning on getting room service, why don’t we move to the sofa and talk or watch Netflix, or whatever you want to do to unwind before the pizza gets here?”

  She had to admit that sounded ten times better than being alone at the hotel, but if she stayed…she was worried where that kiss would lead.

  When she hesitated, he added, “I don’t know if you’re having second thoughts about what just happened, but I’m okay with whatever direction you want to take. If you want to pretend that kiss never happened, I won’t deny that I’ll be disappointed, but I also understand and promise to respect your decision. And if you decide it wasn’t a mistake, I want you to know I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.”

  Releasing a sigh, she wondered how he could be so perfect. Her mouth twisted into a playful grin as her resolve weakened. “Surely you have some flaws, River Reeves. You’re much too perfect for a mortal man.”

  He laughed and stepped toward her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, yet he didn’t reach for her. “So it’s my flaws you’re after?”

  “It might be nice to know there are a few,” she said, resisting the urge to lift her hand and run it through his dark hair.

  “Okay,” he said, shifting his weight and moving a fraction of an inch closer while keeping his eyes on hers. His gaze dipped to her lips, and she stifled the urge to moan. “I squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle. Um…” He rubbed his chin as his gaze darted to the puppy sleeping on top of the sandal before shifting back to her face. “Sometimes I wait too long to fill up the gas tank in my car.”

  She chuckled.

  “And I’m not a fan of making my bed.” He shrugged. “No one ever sees my bed, so what’s the point?” Then, as though realizing what he’d said, his cheeks flushed with the tiniest amount of pink.

  The urge to reach up and kiss him again was strong, but she resisted as she tried to wear a mock-serious face. “Those all sound like deal breakers to me.”

  He shrugged, his eyes still playful, but his gaze was fully on her mouth now.

  She took a step back. “So, that pizza. Veggie or something with meat?”

  “Lady’s choice,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of his head. “I can pull up the menu for my favorite pizza place and let you pick.”

  She shook her head. “Get your favorite. Surprise me.”

  He started to place the order and she headed to the bathroom. When she emerged, he was picking up the now-awake puppy and heading for the door. “Another bathroom run.”

  “I can’t believe he hasn’t made a mess yet,” she said.

  Grabbing the leash off the table, he said, “Don’t jinx it.”

  After he went outside, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter and checked for any missed calls or messages. There were multiple emails she could ignore, but Lee had sent her a text.

  Dad’s furious with you about the brewery and wants you to present a full business plan within forty-eight hours.

  What? Her father didn’t own Buchanan Brewery, yet he thought he was going to tell her
how to run it? Not a snowball’s chance in hell. She could only imagine how he’d react if he found out that the man who would inherit the brewery if she failed was now their brewmaster. And that they were becoming romantically involved.

  What was she thinking? Whatever this was that she’d started between them was a terrible, terrible idea. Wasn’t it?

  She was scowling when River returned, the puppy trotting next to him as big as he pleased. River took one look at her and some of the happiness dimmed from his eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, squatting down to unleash the dog but keeping his gaze on her.

  She offered him a weak smile. “Yeah.”

  “I got a text that the pizza will be here in about ten minutes.” He walked toward her, never taking his gaze off her. “Georgie, I know something’s wrong. If it’s about our kiss…”

  She shook her head and held up her phone before lowering it to her side. “Lee texted me. He said Dad expects me to present him with a business proposal within forty-eight hours.”

  He started to say something, then seemed to think better of it and stopped.

  “Go ahead,” she said, hating that her father had blighted this too. “Say what you’re thinking.”

  He slowly shook his head as he reached for her upper arms. Holding her gently, bolstering her, he said, “You don’t need anyone else giving their opinion about your life. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, Georgie Buchanan. You don’t need me telling you what to do.”

  She stared up at him, her mouth parted in surprise, and then she smiled, blinking back tears. How many times had she longed for someone to tell her that very thing?

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, and she was surprised at the rightness of being in his arms. How she seemed to fit perfectly. This man was giving her a glimpse into a life filled with love and respect, but she also knew if her brother or father caught wind that she was seeing River, they’d make her life hell. Actually, both of her brothers would flip.

  Jack was the nail in the coffin sealing her decision. Things were already shaky between her and Jack, not to mention River and Jack. If Jack found out they had a relationship, she’d lose all of his trust and respect.

  Pressing her cheek to his chest, she let herself close her eyes for a moment. If they weren’t working together, perhaps it would have been different, but maybe not. She knew from starting Moon Goddess how much time, energy, and effort it took to get a business off the ground. It had killed her relationship at the time. So it probably wouldn’t have been fair to start something with River anyway, knowing that their time would be limited, because one thing was for certain—River wasn’t the guy you had a fling with. He was the guy you planned a future with.

  She leaned back and looked up at him. “We can’t do this, River.”

  He studied her face. “I told you, Georgie. It’s your call. I won’t pressure you.”

  “But you don’t agree,” she said softly, almost hoping he’d try to change her mind.

  He hesitated, then said, “What I think is currently irrelevant. What matters is what you think. You’re the owner of Buchanan Brewery now, or at least one-fourth owner. It’s your business, your rules. If you think it would be a conflict of interest for us to start something, I understand.”

  “I like you, River. I really like you—”

  “I know,” he said with a sad smile. “And I like you too. But we can still be friends, right? We had fun this afternoon and evening. As friends.”

  She nodded. Maybe just staying friends would ease this ache in her chest. At least she’d have some part of him. “Yeah. Friends.”

  He gave her the sweetest smile, and she felt like crying, but she knew this was for the best.

  “You have no idea how much I wish…” she whispered. Then she let her heart have its way before she locked it up again. Reaching up on tiptoes, she kissed him again, capturing his face between her hands.

  He didn’t hold back this time, instead slipping his arm around her back and pulling her flush to his chest. The first kiss had been a kiss of discovery and hope, but this was a kiss of desperation.

  River took over, proving she hadn’t imagined the chemistry they’d shared. In fact, she’d barely opened the tap. His mouth captured hers, his lips and teeth and tongue setting her body ablaze with a passion she’d never felt before and had only read about in romance novels. He was showing her the tip of the iceberg of what he could offer her, and she wanted more, Buchanan Brewery be damned.

  Georgie barely registered the soft click and then the puppy’s happy yips before she heard a woman say, “Uh…looks like I came at a bad time.”

  Georgie tried to jerk free from River’s hold, caught by surprise by the redhead in the open doorway. The look on her face was pure jealousy, but she quickly covered it with a smirk as she scooped up Hops.

  River froze, holding Georgie even tighter, if that was even possible. “Maisie…I forgot about our plans.”

  Her eyebrow quirked. “That part’s obvious.”

  “I was teaching Georgie how to make beer,” River said, still holding Georgie against him.

  Maisie gave him an amused grin. “Funny, I don’t remember that step from when we’ve made beer together.”

  “I…uh…” River fumbled.

  Georgie pried his fingers off her hip and took a step back, realizing she should be grateful to Maisie for showing up when she did, otherwise things could have become even more complicated.

  “If you have plans, don’t worry.” Georgie hurried over to the table and picked up her purse and phone. “I was just about to leave.”

  “But the pizza hasn’t arrived yet,” River said with a hint of desperation in his voice. “Maisie and I are going to watch the movie version of Cats.” He grimaced and gave Georgie an apologetic look. “I lost a bet, but you’re more than welcome to stay. Isn’t that right, Maisie?”

  “That’s right. I’ve heard it’s a rite of passage everyone has to experience before they turn thirty.”

  Thirty? Did that mean River was only twenty-nine? He was hardly a child, but the age difference made Georgie feel like her interest in him was even more inappropriate. And that look on his friend’s face—he might want Georgie to stay, but it was very clear he was alone in that.

  “I’m tired and not very hungry,” Georgie said, plastering on a smile, but it felt like it wasn’t lined up right. “I’ll see you tomorrow, River.” She headed straight for the door as Maisie stepped out of the way.

  “Georgie!” he called after her.

  She stopped at the threshold and turned back to face him. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

  The look of defeat on his face made it clear he understood what she meant. And it nearly broke her.

  This is for the best, she told herself. She had too much to lose if she let things develop between them.

  But if that was true, why did she feel like she’d already lost?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What. The. Actual. Hell?” Maisie said, her usual eloquent self, as soon as the door shut behind Georgie.

  But he was still staring at that closed door, trying like hell not to think it was a metaphor for what had just happened between them. Georgie had kissed him. Twice. And somehow he’d still messed it up. Part of him—hell, all of him—wanted to run after her, to insist that they talk about this, but he’d told her it was her call, and it had to stay that way. Even if he’d never, ever felt this way about another woman.

  The women in River’s life had always drifted in and out of it without much of a production, either from him or from them. A therapist would probably have plenty to say about that, given what his mother had done—Maisie had always said so, at least—but it had felt easier that way. For one thing, it had helped him avoid feeling like this.

  “Hello,” Maisie said, waving Hops’s sandal in his face as the puppy danced about excitedly, “best friend freak-out here. What happened to taking the job and keeping it in
your pants?”

  He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Maisie, as you can see, my pants are very much on.”

  She gave another wave of the sandal. “I hate to break it to you, but that didn’t look like a job interview, unless you were trying out for a position at Skin-a-max.”

  “And I hate to break it to you,” he said, forcing a smile, “but Hops has been humping that sandal for half the day.”

  Her nose scrunched and she dropped it, only for Hops to gleefully hop onto it.

  “So you’ve named him, huh? We’ll talk later about how that’s the first step toward accepting you’ve found one of your soul companions. In the meantime, I’d like answers.”

  He headed to the couch and dropped down into the slightly worn cushions—and couldn’t help but think that if things had gone differently, Georgie might have been the one lowering down next to him. Not that he didn’t want to spend time with Maisie—it was just different.

  Turning toward her, he saw she had on the same fierce look she wore when she went to pick up a trouble dog, the I’m not giving up look. That look had saved him as many times as it had harassed him, and so he sighed again and said, “I’m falling for her, Maisie.”

  He saw worry in her eyes, plus something else he couldn’t identify. It reminded him of the way she’d looked at him this morning. Like maybe she thought he was going to fall straight into his Lost Days again. “Look, I know it’s not the ideal situation, but I think she might feel the same way.”

  “Tell me everything,” she said.

  And so he did, playing up the whole situation with Lurch and Josie for laughs, not that it needed to be embellished. Midway through, the pizza arrived, and they carried slices to the couch on plates so he could continue the story.

  “I take it they fired Josie?” she said, laughing so hard her body was bobbing with it. She set her plate down on the coffee table, and it was low enough to the floor that Hops immediately snagged her crust.

  “Understandably,” he said. “Aunt Dottie talked to her this afternoon. You can give her a call. I’ll bet the puppies would like a bubble machine.”