by K. B. Jacobs
She nodded. “Yep, that sounds like my birth-and-run parent. Your assistant has my condolences.”
“I’ll pass that on to him.” I smiled at her. For once, she seemed to give me a genuine smile back. “So listen, I hear your mother has given you a bit of time to work on a new competition brew or something?”
“Yes, we’re entering the Rocky Mountain Brewer’s Choice in twenty-six days.” She scowled at me. “You’re not thinking of trying to interfere, are you? Because if you are, I’m still not opposed to running you out of town on a rail, beaten and bloody.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Good god, you’re a bloodthirsty wench, aren’t you?” I shook my head. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot because of your mother’s involvement.”
She looked at me suspiciously.
“The whole purpose of Ghost Squad Charities was to take something that each of the guys loved and build it up so it became bigger and better.”
She stilled, as if bracing herself for whatever I was about to tell her.
I held up my first finger. “Our first mission was for Irish. He was a high school football star who was constantly regaling us with the stories of his team in Oklahoma and life under the Friday night lights. GSC built a new stadium and field house for his high school and named it for him.”
I held up my second finger. “Apple was a reader.” I laughed, and it may have been a little watery as I thought back about the guys we’d lost. “That guy didn’t go anywhere without a book or three, no matter that our rucks already weighed over a hundred pounds. He had to have his books.”
She smiled softly. “He sounds like Melissa.”
“In his hometown in South Carolina, GSC built a library and began an elementary level reading program in his name.”
I lifted a third finger. “Katy was a little harder. His real name was Ross Perry, but he was lead singer for his band, so we called him Katy. And man, that guy could sing. More times than not, we marched to the sound of his vocals. The world lost a gift when Katy died.” I stopped for a moment to swallow and get my emotions back under control. I had to get this out. It was important for her to understand what we did. “Katy’s band now has a new recording contract and is about to head out on a worldwide tour.”
“Because of Ghost Squad Charities?” she asked.
“Not entirely. There’s no denying that couldn’t have happened if they didn’t have the talent to back it up. GSC just made sure the right people heard them, and that the funds were there to get them where they need to go to succeed. Ever heard of The Blonde Incursion?”
Her eyes widened. “Warner was playing their album in the bottling room last week. They’re awesome.”
I nodded. “They deserved their big break. I hate that it’s without Katy, but he would love that they’re going places now.”
I held up the fourth finger. “Ice is our last guy. He loved Naked Brews. We’d be out in the middle of the desert in one-hundred-twenty degree heat, our brains melting, and he would go on and on about how an ice-cold Hops on Top would taste. It was to the point I could literally taste the beer myself. He loved this brewery.
“Buying the brewery doesn’t mean we’re stealing it away from you. Our goal is to make sure Naked Brews is here for the next hundred years. If that works out so that you’re here brewing the beer, then I’m perfectly fine with that. Work with us, Lake. Show me what I need to know, so I can go back to the GSC board and present them a future for Naked Brews that Ice would love.”
She nodded and surreptitiously swiped at her eye before she rapped on the bar. “Hey, Jeremy. Give us a couple of Hops on Top.”
The bartender nodded and filled two mugs from the tap before sliding them in front of us.
She raised hers in a toast. “To the fallen men of Ghost Squad. We miss you, Jimmy.”
I lifted my glass. “To Katy, Apple, Irish, and Ice.”
I took a long draught of the beer, and even though I hadn’t ever been a big fan of beer, it was just as good and refreshing as Ice had said it would be.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lake
“So you’re telling me that foam all over the floor—”
“Is totally a normal part of the brewing process.” I pushed open the door and led Walsh out of the brewing room. “If we sealed up those tanks, the built-up air pressure would blow their lids off, and then we’d have a much bigger mess on our hands.”
He glanced back over his shoulder and shook his head, still reeling from the information overload I had just given him. “I had no idea there were so many intricate steps in making beer.”
I gave myself a mental pat on the back. After that very thorough tour of the brewery, there was no way Walsh would ever tell his partners this place was a sinking ship again. “And that’s only one part. After we make the beer, we have to get it to beer lovers.” I paused with my hand on the door to the office. “That magic happens in here. It’s probably time for you to meet the girls.”
I pushed open the door just as Alex let a dart fly from her fingers.
Melissa yelled, “Duck!”
I grabbed Walsh by the front of his shirt and pulled us both to the ground. The dart missed us by inches and sailed across the hall, digging into the wood-paneled wall behind us with a thunk.
But with Walsh spread out on top of me, I lost sight of everything going on around us besides the press of him against me. From groin to chest, there wasn’t a sliver of space between us. He felt...amazing.
“Lake!” Alex jumped from her seat and rushed over to us, offering us both a hand up. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath. “Yep, just a little more awake than I was a second ago.” I brushed dirt from the bottom of my jeans. “I guess I should probably knock first.”
The four of us stood in an awkward silence as the adrenaline of the moment faded, and the girls realized Walsh was with me...and we weren’t yelling at each other.
“Walsh, this is Melissa and Alex. Girls, this is Walsh.”
Melissa waved from her chair, but Alex held out her hand to Walsh and sized him up properly for the first time.
He shook her hand, and Alex smiled. “Good strong grip. Long fingers. I bet you’re good with your hands.” She winked at him and sashayed back to her desk, leaving Walsh staring wide-eyed at the back of her head.
“Alex is in charge of sales and PR. She’s the face of Naked Brews to our distributors and a habitual flirt.”
I held my breath, waiting for Walsh to say something sarcastic, but he just laughed. “I bet those sales guys don’t stand a chance.”
Alex winked again. “Outside sales are up twelve percent since I got here.”
Walsh nodded and turned his dazzling green eyes on Melissa. “What do you do?”
Melissa gulped, her eyes as wide as the tea cups she had all over her apartment.
“Melissa is the numbers guru,” I said. “She manages payroll, accounts payable, accounts receivable, and makes sure the lights stay on.”
“Seems like everyone around here is working double or triple duty,” Walsh said.
It was my turn to gulp. “When Dad died, a few of the guys decided to retire.” Or quit out of protest when I took over. “We’re still a little understaffed, but we’re making it work.”
I stood, waiting for Walsh to weigh in on what he’d seen. It shouldn’t matter, but I wanted him to be impressed. So much of my own identity was wrapped up in Naked Brews. If he still thought this place was a hot mess, then that meant he saw me as a hot mess. And there was no point in denying it anymore. I cared what he thought of me.
“You guys are working with outdated equipment and about half the staff you really need.” Walsh looked over at me, his green eyes staring into mine like the world would end if he looked away. “And you still make some of the best beer I’ve ever had.”
He smiled, and I just about creamed my pants right there. Sweet baby Jesus, help me. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and tri
ed to give him a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. “Why don’t we head out to the pub, and you can sample all our current beers?”
“Actually.” Alex stood up and grabbed her purse. “It’s the lunch rush, and the pub is pretty packed right now. Why don’t you guys have a tasting in the office? Melissa and I were just going to head over to Tasting Tapas for a long lunch.”
“We were?” Melissa glanced over at Alex, and her eyes shot to tea-cup size again. “Oh, right, we absolutely already made plans to go for Tapas. Before you got here. So we have to go.” She grabbed her purse and followed Alex out of the office.
Walsh turned to me, that teasing grin I used to hate playing across his soft lips. “Your friends are—”
“Weirdos,” I finished for him. “And bad liars. But they’re my weirdos, and they gave up their own lives to come help me, so I pretend not to notice. Grab a seat, and I’ll go get the beers.”
I flew out of the office and into the pub just in time to catch Alex and Melissa slipping out the door. Melissa glanced back and threw me a double thumbs up before heading out into the falling snow. I should hang them both up by their pinkie toes and throw darts at their heads. Walsh was better than tolerable when he wasn’t trying to be an arrogant ass, and his ass was truly drool worthy, but we could never be more than friendly.
Eric was swamped with lunch customers, so I grabbed the wooden flight boards and filled them up with tasting glasses. We had nine beers on tap, plus Dad’s Beer. I debated leaving it off, but there was room on the flight board, so I added two tasters of our newest beer and headed back to the office.
Walsh was standing behind the desk, studying the collection of everything pinned to the wall. Decades worth of festival posters, competition certificates, and framed pictures covered every inch. Our office was a twelve-by-twelve shrine to Naked Brews. I sat the flights down on the mostly cleared desk.
“Is this your dad?” He pointed to a framed photo of me, Dad, and Harlan standing in front of a shiny silver brew tank. I couldn’t have been more than ten.
“Yeah, that was the day we installed the new tanks.” I ran a hand across the dusty glass. “Dad had always made our brew equipment, Frankensteining pieces together or buying second hand from another brewery. That was our first time to get brand new equipment at Naked Brews.”
“You all look so happy.”
“We were.” I turned from the wall and pulled two chairs together and motioned him to sit. “On that note, let’s start with the first beer Dad officially deemed ready for public consumption.” I handed him a taster glass filled with clear amber liquid. “This is Kama Sutra.”
Walsh froze with the glass halfway to his mouth. “Are you serious?”
“Our name is Naked Brews.”
“I always figured there was some brewing reason behind the name.”
I shrugged. “There is. Dad was a stickler for using quality ingredients, and we never use artificial flavorings like extracts or liquid smoke the way some breweries do. Pulling all those flavors out naturally takes longer, but it’s worth it for the purity of our beer. But when the rest of the world hears naked, they immediately think Bow Chicka Wow Wow.” I sang the words and gave my hips a twirl so there was no way for Walsh to miss my meaning.
His eyes darkened, and he took a huge mouthful of Kama Sutra, swirling it around his mouth before swallowing. “Damn. That’s good.”
I smiled up at him, taking a small sip of my own. “We’re just getting started.”
***
I drained another taster and relished Walsh’s booming laughter. His glassy eyes glowed with warmth and humor. Seeing him like this, relaxed and enjoying himself, he was even sexier than he had been before. The tasting glasses might have been small, but Naked Brews made strong beers. Seven glasses into our flights and we were both feeling good.
“By the time we realized what had happened, it was too late. Our regulars fell in love, and Nuts & Balls was born.” I smiled at him. “We tried once to scale back on the almonds to the original recipe amount, but the regulars threatened mutiny.”
“That’s a lot of nuts.”
“That’s what she said.”
Walsh choked down the last sip of his beer, gasping for breath. “I’m going to need some warning before you throw out a that’s-what-she-said joke.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” I winked at him, the cold beer in my belly heating my blood. “You ready for another one?”
“Do your worst.”
I’d like to do way more than that, but I settled for grabbing another tasting glass. “This is Sergeant Hebert.”
Damian’s gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. “Ice’s beer?”
I picked mine up, holding it to the light. “It’s a classic American Pale Ale with a Naked Brews twist. Let’s see if you can pick it out.”
Walsh took a healthy sip of one of our best sellers, and I followed suit.
“Is that apple?”
I nodded, swallowing down the crisp finish. “With a hint of nutmeg. Dad always said Jimmy was as American as apple pie. We thought his beer should be the same.”
Walsh took another sip and closed his eyes. Maybe he was savoring the flavor. Maybe he was thinking about Jimmy. Whatever it was, he swallowed and smiled, setting the empty glass back on the desk. “It’s perfect.” His voice was soft. “Ice would have loved it.”
“Thank you,” I choked out. We worked hard to make each of our beers special, but we put a lot of extra love into this one. Getting approval from one of Jimmy’s fellow soldiers meant a lot.
“All right.” Walsh picked up the final beer of our flights. “Last one. After so many winners, I’m expecting something amazing.”
My stomach tightened as we picked up our glasses of Dad’s Beer. “This one is...different. I don’t really want to say much about it before you taste it.”
Walsh quirked one eyebrow at me. “A mystery beer. Does it have a name?”
I shook my head. “Taste first, answers later.” Tilting my glass in a mock toast, I took a sip that brought back all my best memories of Dad.
Walsh copied my toast and took a sip of his own. He swallowed quickly and gaped at me with wide eyes. “What is that?”
“Do you like it?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Walsh sniffed his glass. “I’m not a regular beer drinker, but I’ve never tasted a beer like that before.”
“I guess not. I’ve never heard of another beer combining hazelnut, anise, and peppers.”
“Peppers?” Walsh took another sip. “It’s growing on me. What possessed you to add all those ingredients into one beer?”
“It’s called Dad’s Beer. All his favorite flavors in his favorite drink.” I finished mine and stood up, swaying a bit with the movement. I grabbed the edge of the desk to stay upright. “It’s not for everyone. We’re only serving it in-house to the regulars.”
Walsh reached over, setting his warm hand on top of mine. “That makes it special. I didn’t know your dad, but I’m guessing he would have liked that. Thanks for sharing it with me.”
I nodded, afraid if I tried to respond the tears would start. Nine testers in thirty minutes pushed the limits of my tolerance.
Walsh finished his beer and set the glass gently on the desk. He grabbed my hand and stood up, leaning too close and sucking up all my oxygen. “What you’ve done here, Lake, it’s special. I spent the last two days talking to everyone I could, and as a rule, everyone told me Naked Brews was the best beer in Colorado. Now I know they weren’t lying.”
“That’s good.” I should have said more, but my brain couldn’t produce any more words with Walsh standing so close his body heat warmed my skin. I wanted more of that touch, more of Walsh. My core heated, and my pussy grew wet with just the possibility.
“It’s good,” he said, his words puffing into my face. “It’s very good. Do you know what else they told me?”
“No.” The word squeaked out as Walsh ran his other hand up
my arm.
“They said you were married to the brewery.” He trailed his hand over my shoulder and across the sensitive skin over my collarbone. “Here’s what I think,” his husky voice whispered in my ear.
I had to clench my muscles to hold in the shiver.
“I think beer could never be enough for a woman like you.”
Any rebuttal I might have managed was cut off with the crush of Walsh’s soft lips taking mine, erasing every thought in my head. My lips parted with a mind of their own, welcoming his tongue inside with an additional hint of vanilla that wasn’t in any of the beers we had.
His tongue tangled with mine, demanding more, and I let him have it. His hips pressed against mine, driving me into the wall and holding me there. His muscles clenched hard and tight against all my soft spots. My breasts tingled; my breath hitched. I should have pushed away, but instead, my hands reached out, grabbing the edge of his jeans and pulling him closer.
This was wrong, completely and utterly wrong, but damn if it didn’t feel perfectly right. His lips nibbled, leaving a breadcrumb trail of tingles across my jaw and down my neck. I let my hands wander up and under his shirt to test the ridges between the muscles of his abs.
His hand dropped to my breast, squeezing hard the way I liked it, and I lost all my good sense. Pulling him closer, I burrowed my face into his neck and went to work, leaving kisses and bites in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
“More,” Walsh grunted before his mouth attacked mine again. He flipped open the button of my jeans and lowered the zipper.
I should stop this. Walsh could be my boss someday, making this moment of glorious sensation oh-so-awkward. My brain screamed at me to put on the brakes, but my hips surged, inviting him into my pants.
Walsh graciously accepted, his fingers diving into my panties, already soaking wet from the thought of him touching me. One long, warm finger parted my folds and traveled smoothly from my bundle of nerves until he crooked a finger, entering into me.
