by K. Ryan
“Fair enough,” Finn shrugged. “That’s the honey ale. It’s one of my favorites, too, and it’s actually the first one we started bottling.”
My eyebrows lifted playfully. “I see. Should I keep going?”
A large hand clapped me on the shoulder and I jumped at the contact. “Absolutely. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”
I turned my head to see an older, worn, and greyed version of Finn grinning back at me and the man thrust his hand out to me with Finn’s identical light eyes twinkling. “I’m Finn’s dad, Max. Please tell me you’re Emma.”
“Yep,” I nodded shyly and shook his hand. “That’s me.”
“Fantastic,” Max clasped his hands together in front of him as he slid into the bar stool next to me. “I’m glad that old stick in the mud over there invited you out here. We’ve got a lot to celebrate tonight.”
Finn just rolled his eyes and shook his head at his dad. “I am not a stick in the mud.”
Max shot me a wry glance. “Don’t listen to him, Emma. I’m glad to see you’ve brought him out into the real world for a change. I don’t know that he would’ve even shown up to his own party if you weren’t here.”
Even through the dim lights, the flushed embarrassment coloring Finn’s cheeks was unmistakable. Once again, that warmth leapt through my stomach and into my chest, spreading over my shoulders and down my arms. It was only this public setting, not to mention the fact that Finn’s dad was standing right next to us, that kept me from leaning over the bar and kissing him.
Max’s gaze shifted to the end of the horseshoe-shaped bar, where Slinger and Mara still had their heads bent close together and he cocked an eyebrow at his son. “So is Sling takin’ the night off or what?”
“I don’t know,” Finn sighed and rested his hands on his hips.
Max jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Slinger and shook his head, telling me, “Can you believe I took mercy on that skinny kid over there? Hired him as a bartender right outta high school, made him my bar manager two years later, and this is the thanks I get?”
“Sorry,” I grimaced and lifted my shoulders. “I brought the girl he’s talking to. That’s my friend from work.”
“No, no,” Max batted a hand at me. “Don’t take the bullet for that jackass. It’s not your fault he spotted a pretty blonde and suddenly forgot he’s on the clock. So, did Finn fill you in on our brewhouse?”
“A little bit.”
“Ah,” he shook his head reproachfully at his son, who just rolled his eyes. “I see. I’m not going to bore you with all the details, but we’ve been operating since 1980. Me and my brother Kurt have always been head brewmasters and Finn’s been working odd jobs around this place since he was...12, I think. He started bringing Sling around in high school, so like I said, I took mercy on him until he got that,” he paused to make air quotes, “‘big’ promotion, so I kinda feel like those two boys have grown up here, you know? Every year we experiment a little or add another brew into the mix, and every year, now thanks to your boy right there and all his marketing wizardry, we’re slowly gaining more traction.”
I glanced back at Finn with a small smile and found him leaning his palms into the edge of the bar with an exasperated expression.
“Now,” Max continued, pointing to Finn. “Let’s keep this tasting going, huh? So, I take it you liked the pale ale?”
“Yeah, it was good,” I nodded.
“Most people agree,” he went on and swept a hand out to Finn to signal it was his turn to take over.
Finn exhaled deeply, lifting his eyes agitatedly to his dad just once before picking up the next glass and sliding it to me. “This one is a little different than the pale ale. My Uncle Kurt calls this our 90-minute double IPA because, like the name, we hops it for 90-minutes.”
I grimaced a little with a laugh. “I have no idea what any of that means.”
“It’s okay,” Max assured me and even put a hand on my shoulder for good measure. “This one has more hops in it—meaning it’s got a more bitter taste and more alcohol content. The IPA means that it’s an india pale ale, but it’s made differently than the pale ale you tried before. Give it a try and see what you think.”
He gestured to the glass and now, I really had no choice but to take the glass and give it a try. God, it was bitter. And really, really sour. How did people drink this all the time? Ugh. I needed a wet towel or something so I could wipe off my tongue. However, I didn’t want to offend the brewmaster sitting next to me either, so I put on the most diplomatic face I could manage.
“That one’s not my favorite.”
Finn burst out laughing, ducking his head underneath the bar as he leaned all the way back, and his eyes flicked to his dad, whose twinkling light eyes smiled back at me.
“Oh, you should’ve seen your face,” Finn heaved as he swept some dark hair away from his forehead. “God, it was priceless. Where’s a camera when you need one?”
“You did pucker up like you just swallowed a whole lemon,” Max told me matter-of-factly and promptly took the glass with its disgusting beer in it from me to hand to Finn. “Here, take this one away. Now, are you ready for another one?”
What had I gotten myself into? At this point, I was feeling more than a little green from that last IP whatever it was, but I couldn’t back down now. So, I dutifully endured two more tastings, a stout that Finn informed me was barrel-aged in oak that tasted like sweaty, dirty socks and a brown lager that was tolerable, but its sour aftertaste overwhelmed the malty flavor I’d initially enjoyed.
“We’re striking out here, Dad,” Finn surmised with a laugh as he took the lager glass away from me.
“Trust me, it’s me, not you,” I shook my head. “I’ve never really been into beer and all these fancy beers might be a little more than this wino can handle, you know?”
Max laid one hand over his heart and the other on my shoulder. “Did you hear that, Finn? Your girl here called our beer fancy. Thank you, sweetheart, that’s the nicest compliment I’ve heard about our brews all day.”
Once again, the slow, tender smile that slipped across Finn’s face sent another wave of heat flooding down and over me.
“Now,” Finn leaned into his elbows to get a little closer to me, completely ignoring his dad’s presence, and tipped his chin towards the last beer I’d yet to taste. “I think we saved the best for last. This last one is a specialty beer. We used to just bring it out for the holidays, but people kept requesting it throughout the whole year, so we caved. Let’s see what you think of this one.”
My stomach still swirled from the last two tastings, so I put on a brave face and grabbed the glass, but I wasn’t prepared for the decadent amber liquid that poured down my throat. It was sweet and velvety, creamy chocolate with a nutty, vanilla aftertaste. I almost downed the whole glass right there in one sitting it was so delicious.
“Oh my God,” I practically moaned into the glass. “Forget wine. This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s our vanilla porter,” Max nodded proudly. “Customer favorite.”
“Uh, yeah, I can see why. This is amazing. It doesn’t even taste like beer. It’s like you just melted chocolate into my glass and added alcohol, vanilla, and almonds or something to it.”
“That sounds about right,” Finn smiled. “I’m glad we finally have a winner.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed and lifted my glass up to toast him before taking another sip.
Sex in a glass. That’s what this was. All that rich, savory chocolate laced with alcohol in liquid form felt a little naughty and more than a little inappropriate to drink in front of Finn’s dad, so I allowed myself just a sip at a time to not look so greedy.
“So,” Max started, leaning against the bar top as Finn discarded my other tasting glasses. “Finn tells me you used to be a history teacher.”
My heart seized. My lungs froze. My eyes flew to Finn, who was observing me with careful, slightly narrowed eyes, and in that
moment, I knew I’d officially given myself away. Finn’s dad might be able to overlook my hesitation and fear and write it off as just catching me off-guard. But Finn...I’d only known him for two weeks and he already knew me too well. He’d caught on to all my tells, even if he didn’t know the reason why.
The suspicion clouding his sky-blue eyes was undeniable.
“I, uh...yeah, I used to teach.”
That was the best I could do. It was pathetic.
Max nodded, lifting a shoulder, and I braced myself for the inevitable question. It came half a second later. “So, why did you stop teaching?”
I didn’t like having to lie, but the lie was the only defense I had.
“I just needed a change,” I offered quietly, purposefully averting my gaze to focus solely on Max instead of Finn. “Teaching wasn’t going to be a lifelong career for me, you know? It was stressful and frustrating…”
I trailed off, figuring I didn’t need to elaborate and Max nodded sympathetically as Finn continued his quiet observation of our conversation.
“I can understand that,” Max allowed easily. “I can’t imagine these last few years have been very good ones to be a teacher. All that Walker business had to have made things even more stressful, huh?”
Somehow, this conversation had taken a political turn and pretty quickly, too.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “It definitely made it worse. Suddenly, teachers are the bad guys now and I’ve always thought it’s the opposite.”
There it was again. Present tense. I needed to do a better job of getting a handle on that.
“It’s really too bad things had to go that route,” Max nodded soberly, his eyes flicking to Finn just once before settling back on me. “It was ugly, to say the least. And unfortunate. I’ve always thought teachers deserve more credit and more money than they get.”
“There was definitely a decline, for sure,” I explained, my mind sifting through the memories and I had to fight back a shudder. “Every year since Act 10, everything just got harder. I had less money, less respect from my students, more expectations with less clarification, less resources to actually do my job, more students crammed into every class, not to mention colleagues losing their jobs because of budget cuts, and somewhere along the way, those kinds of things really make you start to resent your job.”
“I’m sure you don’t think too highly of our governor then, huh?” Max asked and this time, that twinkle gleamed from his eyes again.
“What gave me away?” I laughed and shook my head. “Seriously, every time I see that weasel with his beady little lazy eyes on TV, I shudder and grind my teeth. I can’t stand the sight of him.”
“And,” Max smiled. “I’m sure with your background, all that really killed you, huh?”
I laughed good-naturedly, enjoying this conversation more than I expected. “You have no idea. Basically, he set our state back about 50 years in labor and union rights, so yeah, it really killed me.”
“I should probably admit right now—and please don’t hate me—that I voted for him all three times,” Max admitted with a shrug. “We’re small business owners, you know? My hands were tied.”
I just batted a hand and took another sip from my devilishly delicious chocolate beer. “Don’t worry about it.”
Finn leaned forward and smiled wistfully. “I think people have a tendency to just look out for themselves when push comes to shove. It’s not personal, but at the end of the day, everyone wants as much of their money to stay in their own pockets as possible.”
“You’re right,” I agreed and felt my lips lifting to match his smile. “But let me be the first to say that it’s all gonna come back and bite everybody in the ass sooner or later.”
“Absolutely,” Max shook his head. “The way the whole system is changing, it’s just gonna keep driving out young, dedicated teachers like yourself until all we’re left with is people who barely have a degree, if they even have one at all, and then we’ll all be sitting around wondering why the hell our kids can’t read or do basic math and think that Africa is a country.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I told him, even though he wasn’t even close in his assumption about why I no longer taught.
Max winked at me and clapped a hand on my shoulder again. “I think you and I are gonna get along just fine, Emma.”
“I think so, too.”
“Now,” Max pointed a finger at Finn. “I’ve taken up enough of your time tonight. Why don’t you take this lovely lady on a little tour of the brewhouse? Show her how we make all that beer we just made her choke down?”
“Hey, I really loved that last one,” I reminded him. “Do you guys bottle that? I’d seriously buy it in bulk if you did.”
Max tapped his chin in thought while Finn looked on with a grin. “That’s not the first time someone’s suggested that. Maybe we need to think more seriously about it, huh, Finn?”
Finn just shrugged and tossed the towel flung over his shoulder back down onto the bar top.
“Hey, I have a question,” I interjected.
“Shoot,” Max replied and I grinned at the similarities between him and his son.
“What’s the difference between the brewery and the brewhouse?” I asked, my eyes falling to Finn, who was watching me with a smile. “I think I’ve heard both of you refer to this place as both those things and I don’t understand the difference.”
“Well, now,” Max explained easily. “That’s a fair question. The brewery is a reference to this whole building, you know? The brewhouse is where, well, we house our brews; that’s where all the magic happens.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “That makes sense now.”
“Good,” Max clapped me on the shoulder one more time and gently pushed me to his left. “Now, I think you two kids need to get out of here for a little while.”
Finn motioned with his head for me to follow him and I moved down the length of the bar with him still on the opposite side until we finally met at the end. The second he stepped out from behind the bar, his hand found my back and his lips grazed the side of my head.
“Have I told you how pretty you look tonight yet?” Finn murmured in my ear.
“Uh huh.”
“But just the once though, I think,” his warm breath was still in my ear and I shivered at the contact. “So, in that case, let me just say that you look absolutely beautiful and I’m a lucky bastard because you showed up here tonight for me instead of some other guy.”
“Oh boy,” I laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.”
I was still shaking my head when my phone buzzed in my purse. With an apologetic wince at Finn, I slipped my phone out and glanced at the caller ID.
Frowning, I swiped across the screen to answer. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Em?” The frantic, frazzled tone in Noah’s tone told me everything I needed to know. “We’re on our way to the hospital. Cris’s water just broke.”
My hand shot out to grip Finn’s forearm. “What? But it’s...she’s okay, right?”
I couldn’t let the words, it’s too soon, fall from my lips. That wouldn’t help my brother right now.
“Well, she’s in labor, so I’m sure you can imagine how she’s feeling right now. We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Right. Thanks for calling. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”
“I know,” the panic in his voice still hadn’t subsided. “Hurry...if you can, okay, Em?”
“I will. I promise.”
My thumb swiped over the screen to end the call as Finn’s arm slipped around my waist and lifted my eyes to find him watching me worriedly. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. My sister-in-law is in labor and they’re on their way to the hospital right now.”
“Is everything okay though?”
“I don’t know...I think so,” I swallowed hard. “Noah sounded pretty freaked out because it’s a little
early, but she’s only a few weeks before her due date. They weren’t in an ambulance, so I’m sure everything’s…”
I trailed off and sucked in a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. Noah was a first-time dad who was basically losing his shit on the way to the hospital. That wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary in terms of real life, but for Noah, whose normal reaction was fists over tears, even I had to admit this was a little alarming. This panicked, terrified version of my usually tough-as-nails brother was not one I’d ever seen before, at least not like this, and that was enough to send me into panic-mode right along with him.
“You’re gonna be an aunt,” Finn grinned down at me and gently pushed me in the direction of the exit. “You gotta get going, Em.”
“I know, I know...I’m so sorry. I wish I didn’t have to leave and you were just about to show me the brewhouse.”
“You’ll just have to come back,” Finn laughed. “Trust me, that’s not a bad thing.”
My hand flew over my mouth when I remembered. “Oh my God! Oliver! I have to leave, but I can’t really take him with me…and Mara! I can’t just leave her here.”
Finn’s hands settled over my shoulders to calm me. “Don’t worry about it. I got this, okay, Em? You get your ass on the road and I’ll take care of your cat and…” he pointed to the bar where Slinger and Mara still had their heads bent in close, “I don’t think Mara’s gonna have any problems getting herself home.”
Now, I just couldn’t stop myself and wrapped my arms around his neck to tug him in close. “Thank you.”
“I know you probably don’t want to leave him after…” he caught himself from saying that three letter acronym that would probably have me bursting into tears again just from the stress alone. “But he will be fine. He’s gonna be so doped up the next few days he won’t even know you’re gone.”
Something about that hit a nerve and my lips dipped into a frown. The idea of Oliver forgetting about me completely didn’t sit well with me.
“Okay, well his food is—”
