Saison for Love (Brewing Love)

by Meg Benjamin

  “Was that why you made the sandwiches, to get her to quit?”

  Carol shook her head. “I was just mad at her for keeping me out of the kitchen. I mean, it’s my kitchen. My mom owns it and I will, too, someday.”

  “Is that what you told her?”

  Carol gave him a quick smile. “Well, yeah.”

  “I bet that didn’t exactly delight her.”

  Carol shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

  “I don’t think Barbara Jean saw it that way.”

  Carol raised an eyebrow, looking very much like her mother. “Not my problem.”

  Liam frowned. Twelve-year-olds weren’t supposed to be throwing their weight around. That struck him as something that could cause all kinds of trouble in the future. But this definitely wasn’t his problem. “Anyway, your mom is hiring my friend Peaches, who’s a great cook and excited about working here.”

  Carol’s expression brightened. “See, it all worked out. Just like I said it would. Things happened just the way they were supposed to.”

  “Well, it was more a matter of chance than planning. It wasn’t like either of us planned this. Neither of us could have planned it, so far as that goes.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Barbara Jean’s gone, Mom’s got a new cook, and everything’s going to be fine. So it’s all going to work out.”

  Liam wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t want to argue with her. After all, he had a date with her mother after a week or so of trying. Maybe Carol hadn’t been responsible for that, but it was still what he’d been hoping for. He wasn’t going to rock the boat over this.

  He found a suitably flat pebble and tried for a skip in the river. He got two jumps with it—maybe luck was with him for once. “Your mom’s looking for you. I’m picking up supper for the three of us, and she wants you to head home.”

  Carol nodded happily. “I can do that. What are you getting?”

  “Greek. Gyros.”

  “Don’t forget the grape leaves.” Carol pushed herself to her feet and headed off toward her house, humming “Let It Go” as she went.

  Liam watched her for a moment, wondering if her happiness was such a good idea. Something about it made him a little uneasy. She shouldn’t assume that everything in the universe conspired to make things happen her way. That was a dangerous assumption for anybody, let alone a headstrong twelve-year-old.

  What kind of jerk objects when a little girl is happy? He blew out a breath. He didn’t object, exactly. He just wished he was more convinced she wasn’t kidding herself and him. At this point in his life, he’d learned to be sort of cautious around good fortune.

  He turned back toward town and the gyros he’d promised to get. At the least, he could feed the family. And maybe have a chance for a little quality time with Ruth afterward.

  Life is good for now, Dempsey. Don’t be a dick. He hoped he wasn’t. But he also hoped neither Carol nor he was heading for a crash, especially since his time here was limited.

  Chapter Eight

  Ruth was still feeling a little unsettled by the time she got home. She’d had more walk-in customers than usual, selling a lot of cheese and deli meat, along with some of the indifferent pastries from the commercial bakery. It was probably a sympathy vote from the people in town who thought Barbara Jean had been an asshole. But she’d take it. Any sale was a good sale.

  They were also right. Barbara Jean had been a total asshole, and the conclusion, with Peaches coming onboard, had been more than satisfying. Still, the whole sequence of events made her a little uneasy. Things didn’t usually work out this well in reality. Getting rid of Barbara Jean and finding Peaches in one fell swoop seemed like serendipity on steroids.

  And having Liam Dempsey drop in for dinner was serendipity squared. The warning bells were still clanging in her brain. This is a bad idea. It’s going to be twice as hard to turn him down after this. But maybe she shouldn’t turn him down anymore. Maybe she should see what happened when she said yes.

  But you’re only in this for the sex, remember? Nothing serious. He said himself he was looking for a new job, thinking of moving on. How could she forget? She definitely remembered the last time she’d had sex with Liam.

  Doing it again didn’t mean they were getting involved.

  Carol was in the living room watching TV as she walked in the front hall. At least Carol’s role in today’s drama was something she could tackle—and she needed to. Her daughter glanced up as she entered the room, giving her a deceptively innocent look.

  Ruth went straight to the point. “Why did you go into the kitchen at the deli today when I’d told you to steer clear of Barbara Jean?”

  “We needed two sandwiches. I didn’t see why I couldn’t make them.” Carol’s innocent look morphed into defiance. “It’s not like I didn’t go into the kitchen all the time when Honoria was cook.”

  “You couldn’t make them because Barbara Jean didn’t want you in there, and because I’d told you to stay away. You should have let Barbara Jean handle it.”

  Carol narrowed her eyes. “But why was it okay for her to tell me to stay out of the kitchen? It wasn’t her kitchen, it’s yours. And I’ve been going in there since I was a little girl. And she made really bad sandwiches.”

  Ruth shook her head. It didn’t matter that the kid made a certain amount of sense. That wasn’t the point. “You knew Barbara Jean was touchy about this. And you knew I’d told you to stay out of it. This wasn’t a situation where you could make your own decision, Carol. This was a situation where I’d told you not to make things worse. And you went against what I told you to do.”

  “But it worked out. She left. We got somebody better. I don’t see why you’re mad at me.” Carol’s lower lip jutted out in an advanced pout.

  For a fugitive moment, Ruth wondered just how Carol had found out about Peaches. But that question was a distraction. She picked up the iPad from the coffee table. “You knew what you were supposed to do. I was clear about that. And you didn’t do it. No internet for a week.”

  Carol’s pout turned to outrage. “That’s not fair.”

  “On the contrary, it’s extremely fair. Actions have consequences, and you can’t just talk them away.”

  Carol pushed herself to her feet, chin held high. She looked a little like Barbara Jean had when she’d stalked out of the kitchen. “It’s not fair. I helped. I made things better. You didn’t even like Barbara Jean—she was awful.”

  Ruth took a breath, putting steel in her spine. “My opinion of Barbara Jean doesn’t matter. Neither does yours. This is between you and me—I told you not to do something, and you did it anyway. I can’t stand back and say that’s all right just because the outcome was better than you could have expected. You had no way of knowing I’d be able to hire a new cook so quickly. I didn’t know that myself. This could have been a disaster, and it was your fault that it happened.”

  “You always do this. You’re always making me do things for no good reason—just because you think you’re right. I don’t even get a say. I hate it here!” Carol gave her another burning look then turned on her heel, stalking out of the room like Mary Queen of Scots heading for the scaffold. Ruth had to give her points for drama. But then, drama had always been Carol’s forte. Her father was in show biz, after all.

  She headed to the kitchen, tossing her purse on the hall table. She wasn’t sure what went with gyros, but wine would be a great relaxer, which she needed. And she definitely intended to collect on that foot rub before the evening was over.

  She grabbed a bottle of something red from the wine rack along with a corkscrew. Relaxation loomed large on the horizon. Living with a twelve-year-old was clearly driving her to drink. Lord only knew what Carol would be like when she was a teenager.

  She poured herself a glass of wine, then turned when the doorbell sounded. Probably Liam, and she hadn’t even had a chance to run a brush through her hair.

  Do you want to run a brush through your hair?

 
Since she was supposed to be discouraging him, maybe not. But then again, was she still trying to discourage him? She wasn’t sure anymore. Just sex, remember? Just sex. She headed down the hall.

  Liam looked faintly amused when she pulled open the door. His sandy hair had been blown around by the afternoon breeze, and his eyes were more green than brown in the shadows of the front porch. He was, she reminded herself once again, a hunk.

  A hunk five years younger than you. And who you’re just using for sex. True enough.

  “Gyros.” He held up the bag. “Lots of tzatziki, and a double order of grape leaves.” He gave her a quick smile that probably wasn’t meant to be seductive, but managed it anyway.

  Get a grip, toots. He’s just here for dinner. You’ve got a twelve-year-old upstairs.

  “Come on in. Have some wine.” She turned back toward the kitchen, trusting he’d follow her without being told.

  Liam was still smiling when she handed him a glass. Maybe it came from being a bartender who needed to smile as part of his job. Or maybe he’s happy to see you. Her hand brushed his as he took the glass and a quick tingle danced along her arm.

  Cool it. Just cool it.

  “Where’s Carol?” he asked.

  Ruth shrugged. “Sulking in her room. She expected me to congratulate her for running Barbara Jean out of the kitchen. She found out that wasn’t going to happen.”

  “Oh.” His forehead furrowed slightly. “I don’t think she really meant to run Barbara Jean off. I think that was a surprise to everybody, probably including Barbara Jean.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She knew she wasn’t supposed to go into the kitchen while Barbara Jean was there. Barbara Jean’s attitude sucked, but I was still trying to work with her. Carol blew that all to hell when she didn’t need to. I was just lucky that Peaches happened to be there.” She paused, her forehead wrinkling. “I don’t even know Peaches’s last name.”

  “Guidry,” he said quickly. “She’s from Texas—Houston, I think. And she’s very excited about working for you.”

  “Well, if she hadn’t been there, I’d have been up a creek. Thank God you chose today to come to lunch.”

  Liam looked slightly guilty all of a sudden. “Well, about that…it wasn’t exactly by chance that I brought Peaches there. I knew you were having problems with Barbara Jean, and I knew Peaches wasn’t happy at the tavern. I thought I’d bring her to lunch so she could see the place just in case you found yourself looking for a cook somewhere down the road.”

  “So she knew I wanted a new cook?” Ruth had a thrill of alarm. Peaches had seemed so delighted when she heard about the opening. She hated to think that was all an act.

  “No, Peaches didn’t know anything about it.” Liam sighed. “I’m not explaining this very well. See, I’ve been listening to Peaches complain about not being able to bake and about how Stanton won’t spend money on ingredients. Meanwhile, she’s been turning out great food with all the second-rate stuff that Stanton buys. Then I saw you were struggling with Barbara Jean, who had great ingredients available and didn’t know what to do with them. I sort of wanted to be a matchmaker. I didn’t mention this matchmaking to either of you since I had no idea how it was going to work out. Today was as much of a shock to me as it was to everybody else. I’m just glad it worked.”

  “Matchmaking?” Ruth narrowed her eyes.

  “In a culinary sense. You needed a good cook. Peaches needed a good boss, and she needed to get clear of Black Mountain Tavern before it goes belly up. Karma.” Liam gave her a half smile, then began pulling gyros out of the bag.

  Ruth confined herself to finding plates. As long as she got a new cook out of whatever had happened, she was willing to let the whole thing go.

  “Is Carol coming down to eat, or did you send her to bed without supper?” He placed the container of tzatziki in the center of the table, handing her a carton of stuffed grape leaves.

  She shook her head. “Making kids hungry isn’t a great punishment. I’ve cut her off from the ’net for a week—her iPad’s in my custody.”

  He grimaced. “Reminds me of when my mom would unplug my Nintendo. Horrible punishment.”

  Five years younger, Ruth. She managed to kick that thought to the side. “She doesn’t have a cell phone of her own and I take my laptop to work with me. She’s going to be out of luck for a week. Maybe she’ll even read a book.”

  Liam raised an eyebrow. “Sounds brutal.”

  She sighed. “No, that’s not fair, and I know it. Carol’s not a couch potato. She reads all the time, and she knows the hills better than I do, given the way she hikes around. She plays field hockey when school’s in session, and she snowboards in the winter.”

  Liam gave her a dry grin. “I’m more of a couch potato than she is, believe me.”

  “But taking away her iPad is the best I can do. Sooner or later she’s going to have to learn that she doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does.” Ruth took another swallow of wine. It occurred to her that she’d better eat some of her gyro before she drank much more. She was already slightly light-headed.

  Which might possibly also have something to do with Liam being directly across the table from her. That seductive smile of his was back in force. She took a bite, trying not to lose her cool by dripping tzatziki down her front. “You think you’ll have any problems with Tim Stanton over Peaches leaving?”

  He shrugged. “Doubtful. All I did was bring her to lunch. Stanton will probably yell some before he settles down. I’m not too worried about him hiring a new bartender—he’s too cheap for that. I’m safe for the time being.”

  “How long do you think you’ll go on working at Black Mountain? How long before Bec needs you full time at the brewery?”

  He gave her a slightly uncomfortable look. “I’m already getting ready to leave the tavern. Bec could use me full time right now. Or anyway, she could use somebody—it doesn’t have to be me exactly. It’s a matter of money. It’s cheaper to use me than to hire somebody else to do what I do for Bec. If I leave Antero, she’ll have to find a new assistant.” He frowned slightly, then pushed his lips back into a smile.

  Ruth smiled back. “I hope I can hang on to Bec as an assistant cheesemaker at least until the winter. It’s going to be tough to replace her.”

  A series of footsteps—more like footstomps—echoed from the stairwell. Apparently, Carol had come downstairs long enough to get something to eat. “Get ready for martyrdom,” Ruth muttered.

  Carol entered the kitchen, her chin high, pointedly not looking at her mother. Ruth ignored her efforts. “Here’s your gyro and some grape leaves,” she said, handing her a plate.

  Carol took the plate with a grimace, clearly torn between maintaining her injured silence and talking to Liam. “I’ll eat in my room.”

  Ruth shrugged. She’d rather have Carol go off and sulk on her own than have to put up with it while she had dinner. “Suit yourself. Bring your dishes back down when you’re through.”

  Carol frowned. Then she turned on her heel, stomping back to the stairs again.

  “She needs to work on her plan B,” Ruth murmured.

  “Why?”

  “She wanted me to tell her she had to eat here. Then she’d get to do her injured martyr routine and also be able to talk to you. Now she’s stuck eating in her room when she really wants to be down here with us.”

  Liam shook his head slowly. “Thank God I’m not a parent. I’d never be able to figure all that out.”

  “Practice. We’ve had twelve years together. I’ve figured out a lot about her moods. She’s probably figured out a lot about mine, too.”

  “How long have you two lived here?”

  “About ten years or so. I moved here when Carol was a toddler. My brother lives on the family farm over near St. Cloud. This house used to belong to my uncle. He rented it to us, and then he sold it to me when the deli got on a secure footing.”

  “Your brother’s the one with the goats, right?”


  She nodded again. “I use all his milk for the cheese. He’s part owner of the Salty Goat.

  “Antero is home. I wanted to be back here in the mountains. I missed them when I lived in California.”

  He picked up his gyro. “That’s where your ex lives?”

  “Yeah. He’s an actor. Well, he was an actor. Now he’s a producer. He’s from Colorado Springs originally, but he didn’t feel the same way about the state that I did.”

  “Did you make cheese when you lived out there?”

  She shook her head. “I worked in restaurants, learning how to cook. I already knew how to make cheese—I learned when I was growing up. It’s a good thing to do with extra milk. We were a full-service goat farm.”

  The silence stretched. They seemed to have backed into a conversational dead-end. Ruth fumbled for a way out. “You and Bec grew up here, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. We went to Antero Regional High School. Just like Carol will eventually.” He settled back into his chair. “Both of us left for a while. I got as far as Phoenix, and Bec worked in Steamboat Springs and Breckenridge. But we both came back. It’s like you can’t get away from the place.”

  Ruth frowned. “You want to?”

  “Now and then. I wanted to before Bec reopened the brewery. I couldn’t see any reason to stay when I thought Antero Brewing was done for.” He grimaced, taking a bite out of his gyro.

  “Do you ever hear from Colin?”

  Liam shook his head. “I don’t even know where he is. And I don’t know what I’d say to him if I did. I really thought he’d screwed us when he pulled out of Antero Brewing, but it turned out the place can operate without him. Or anyway, Bec’s starting to get the operation going right now. With any luck, the brewery will be fully operational by next year.”

  “And you’ll be brewing beer?”

  His smile dimmed slightly. “I don’t have much to do there anymore. Bec’s been brewmaster ever since Colin took off, and Wyatt’s helping with the management end of things. They don’t really need me to do much of anything.”