Deliciously Thick (Naked Brews Book 2)

by KB Jacobs

  “We’re cleared to be in the brewery and office. The pub, kitchen, and your apartment are officially off limits until we can get a construction crew in there. Walsh is already working on getting a crew started tomorrow.” She held the bag out to me. “Of course, I’m not much of a rule follower, so I was able to grab a few things for you.”

  I unzipped the bag and was instantly hit with the smell of smoke. Everything in my apartment probably smelled like a bonfire gone wrong.

  “The clothes hanging in your closet are covered in soot. Alex is taking them to the dry cleaners. I found some clothes in a sealed box that weren’t too bad.”

  Several pairs of jeans and some old shirts lay mostly folded in the bag. They’d been in that box because they were all a little snug. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Thanks, Lake. Can we store the rest of my stuff in the office until the apartment is ready?”

  Lake ran a hand through her short, blonde hair. “About that...” She bit her lip and glanced out the window. “So smoke can do a lot of damage, add in the water on top of that...”

  “Lake?” My voice lifted an octave. I didn’t own a lot of stuff. As one of seven siblings, I had learned to keep my possessions to a minimum. But what I did own was special to me.

  “Your clothes and the bedding can all be cleaned and your books are fine.”

  “What about everything else?”

  “It got really hot in the apartment, and synthetic fabrics aren’t designed to hold up to those kinds of temperatures.”

  “Synthetic...oh no.” I closed my eyes and pictured my room as it was last night before the fire. “My Union Jack pillow?”

  Lake bit her lip again and shook her head.

  “What about the Big Ben blanket?”

  “I’m sorry, Melissa. But as soon as the insurance is settled, we’ll go out and replace everything.”

  I sat on the side of the bed and nodded. How was an insurance company going to replace a limited edition “Big Ben at Christmas Time” fleece throw that I only managed to snag because my number was one of only one hundred drawn out of thousands of would-be buyers? Now there were only ninety-nine left.

  I pulled a pair of jeans out of the bag, and a teacup rolled out with them. “Lake, why did you pack this?”

  “I wanted to show you that not everything was destroyed.”

  “At least my collection is all right. It’s a good thing china isn’t heat sensitive.”

  Lake cringed, and my stomach somersaulted.

  “What are you not telling me?”

  “The fire didn’t touch your teacup collection.” She let out a long breath. “But your hutch was in front of the fire escape door. When Anthony busted down the door to save your life—remember that, how he saved your life...”

  “Oh god.” Every teacup I owned was on that hutch. Dozens of cups I’d been collecting since my seventh birthday. “Is this?”

  Lake nodded. “I’m sorry, sweetie. The other cups didn’t make it.”

  Turning my last remaining teacup in my hand, I ran my finger over the inlaid maple leaf. “This was a royal commemorative cup from Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip’s 1959 official visit to Canada.”

  “Melissa, I love you. But I will never understand why you own a teacup celebrating a visit to a country we don’t live in by a dignitary from another country we don’t live in.”

  “It was the longest royal tour of Canada since 1786.” I sniffed back a tear. “The queen met with President Eisenhower and ate Thousand Island dressing.” I sobbed out the last word, unable to contain the heartache. Losing pretty much everything I owned was hitting me hard, but the uncertainty of what happened next was more than I could handle.

  “Everything can be replaced except for you. If that means a god awful throw pillow and some teacups had to meet an early demise, I’ll take it.” She rubbed at my shoulder.

  Lake and Alex might never get my obsession with all things British, but they got me, and that’s all that mattered. I had my friends. That was more than I had six years ago when my world fell apart. I survived then. I could survive this now. I just had to keep reminding myself of this.

  “Ms. Frye.” My nurse walked back in with a folder of paperwork. “You’re clear to go as soon as you sign these release forms.”

  “Perfect.” The sooner I got out of here, the better. I grabbed the folder and signed by all the little red Xs. “Can you tell me how the guy they brought in with me is doing?”

  “Melissa Frye.” Alex sauntered into the room and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Not even out of your hospital gown yet and already checking up on the hot guy?”

  My neck heated. I’d never met Anthony Millet, but living in Aspenridge, I knew all about his reputation—on and off the ski mountain. I was unconscious when he saved me from a burning building, but the nurses liked to gossip. According to every nurse who checked in on me last night, Anthony was a bona fide hottie.

  “I’m not checking up on the hot guy. I’m showing concern for the man who saved my life.”

  “I can’t really give you any details.” My nurse winked at me. “But the very attractive man who saved you from a burning building should be released later this afternoon.” She took the signed paperwork and left the room.

  Alex let out an appreciative laugh. “You better get a move on that fine specimen before the nursing staff beats you to it.”

  “Very funny.” I rolled my eyes. I didn’t make a move on any guy. Ever. Been there, done that, learned my lesson the hard way. “Did you bring William?”

  Alex tossed me a key chain with a red phone booth on it. “Against every fashionable bone in my body, I drove the British invasion all the way across town just for you.”

  “Thank you, Alex.” I gripped the keys in my fist. My Mini Cooper was an acquired taste, and currently the only thing I owned still in one piece and not smelling like smoke. “Why don’t you guys get out of here. I’ll get dressed and be right behind you. I want to check my apartment one more time before the construction crew gets up there.”

  “We can wait and go with you.” Lake snagged an uneaten piece of bacon off my breakfast tray.

  “I’m perfectly capable of getting dressed all by myself.”

  “Are you sure, sweetie?” Alex squeezed my shoulder. “We don’t mind waiting. Then we can all help you in the apartment.”

  Every part of my body hurt, and I pretty much felt like I’d been run over by a delivery truck, but if I didn’t do something to keep busy, the terror from the night before would become all too real. My friends didn’t want to deal with a sobbing, pitiful mess. “I know, but this is something I need to do. Just like you both need to take care of business at the brewery.”

  Alex bit her lip. “I’ve had at least a half dozen calls this morning from suppliers worried about us hitting our next delivery dates.”

  “Exactly.” I gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “You too, Lake. The brewery is a lot more important right now than my smoked-out apartment.”

  “Okay, bossy pants, but we didn’t talk about where you’re going to stay.” Lake spun around and leaned on the doorframe. “Obviously you can’t stay in your apartment.”

  “You can stay with me.” Alex clapped her hands spastically. “You can sleep on the couch, and it’ll be just like college.”

  I flashed her my biggest smile even though I was screaming inside. I was thankful every day that ASU assigned the three of us as roommates our freshman year of college, but Alex was not the easiest person to live with, even temporarily.

  “When was the last time you saw your couch?” Lake gave Alex a skeptical look.

  Alex shrugged. “I’ll admit my place isn’t the cleanest, but I’ll just shove everything on the floor, and it’ll be good as new.”

  My face cooled, and a lead ball hit my stomach.

  “Why don’t you stay with me and Walsh tonight?” Lake put her arm around Alex’s shoulder. “The couch is bigger, and it won’t have any raccoons living in it.”r />
  Alex shrugged, but her pouty face was all an act. “Hardy har, you guys are so hilarious.”

  “Thanks, Lake. I’m going to do a quick check on the apartment and run over to Em-Dash.” Stay busy. That was the key to keeping my sanity right now.

  “Oh, I love a house guest who brings food.”

  “Not for you.” I stared at the wall over Lake’s head. “I wanted to take something to Anthony.”

  Lake snorted before she could get a hand up to cover her mouth. “You mean like, ‘Thanks for saving my ass by bursting into a burning building and carrying me out. Here are some cookies.’”

  I put my hand on my hip and tried to glare at her, which only made her snort again. Trying to look mean and ferocious was pointless. At a scrawny five-two, with blonde hair and big blue eyes, I looked like someone’s innocent kid sister. “Hallmark doesn’t exactly make a card for the occasion, so I was thinking scones.”

  Lake lost it and burst out laughing. It had been a long night for all of us. She sounded on the edge of hysteria even if she was just making fun of me and my sense of propriety.

  Alex slapped her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Just ignore her. Apparently, falling in love did nothing to help her bad attitude. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

  “Thanks.” The two of them walked out, and I shut the door behind them. I needed to get dressed and back to my apartment before Lake got the urge to do any more salvaging.

  I pictured a cardboard box labeled “books” shoved way back in my closet. My shelves were filled with romance novels, and after a good airing out, those would be fine. But that box couldn’t be aired out where anyone else would be able to see them. The girls teased me enough about all my standard romance novels. I couldn’t imagine what they would think if they knew I had a box of erotic romance novels. An afternoon tryst with a dashing count in Victorian England was one thing. A lube-filled bump and grind with leather whips in a BDSM club was quite another.

  Tucked in the back of my nightstand under half used bottles of hand lotion and lost buttons was another secret. A tiny silver vibrator. Those books were a secret I only shared with Prince Harry.

  Prince Harry had been a drunken online purchase in college. Two beers and I was fine. Three beers and I streaked across the football field and then bought sex toys online. When the discreet brown package showed up in my campus mailbox, I was mortified. But after several years of unintentional celibacy, I’d be disappointed to lose him.

  Hefting the duffle bag to my shoulder, I took a deep breath and blew it out. Growing up in a family with seven kids, I’d learned to treasure a few meager possessions. I could survive this. I took one more glance at my surviving teacup. I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry. I was healthy and alive. I needed to focus on that and the guy who’d saved me. “Time to go deliver some scones.”

  Chapter 3

  Anthony

  I’d been dozing on my hard hospital bed while my manager, Drake, spun his magic on the phones to make sure none of my sponsors dropped me after my season-ending injury. I didn’t care what he told them.

  My coach was here somewhere, too. I think she went off to consult with the physical therapist. I wasn’t sure. The pain meds made me a little loopy and—combined with the hangover—a lot cranky. It didn’t help that everyone kept yelling at me, telling me how much I’d screwed up.

  Like I didn’t already know that.

  My ankle hurt, my lungs still burned when I took a deep breath, and my head pounded in time with my heartbeat. I just wanted to go home, go to sleep, and forget the last eighteen hours had ever happened. Forget that my career on the halfpipe was over for the season.

  Granted, my run yesterday had been beyond cringe-worthy, but I’d still had a shot at nationals this year. That was all gone with a single jump off a ladder. Sponsors understood a sport-related injury. It’s almost expected at some point in an athlete’s career. But this was a stupid, impulsive, alcohol-fueled mistake. The firefighters had been just around the corner. I should have waited for them instead of jumping. I rubbed at my throbbing temples.

  Frack, how much had I drunk last night?

  The only good news today was the blonde—Melissa, not Juliet—was okay. I didn’t know anything beyond that since I didn’t know her, but Susan, the ER nurse, let me know Melissa had been discharged after just a couple of hours. At least there was a silver lining to this rotten day.

  The door clicked open, and I looked up, expecting the nurse with my final instructions and discharge papers. Instead I met the angry gaze of my mom. My balls pulled up inside my body. Crud. How did she convey so much in a single look? Anger, disappointment, worry, concern, love...it was all there on her face, but foremost was the anger. I’d screwed up.

  I probably should have called her and told her I was in the hospital.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Don’t you ‘hey, Mom’ me, young man.”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry. They’re about to discharge me. I planned to call you when I got home.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me. My mom was elegant and graceful and one of the most put-together ladies on the planet, but she was also a high school English teacher and knew how to induce the wrath of God with a single look. “Do you know how I looked when I walked into Em-Dash and all Kali and Val could talk about was how brave you were to pull Melissa out of a burning building last night?” Her voice grew progressively shriller and louder. “Do you hate me? Is that what this is? You’re in the hospital, and it didn’t even cross your mind to call me? That maybe I’d want to know?”

  I tried to answer...say something...somehow.

  She tossed her hands in the air. “No! Why would you need me? You have your manager here to handle things. I see he was kept in the loop.” She waved her hand at Drake who still had his phone to his ear. “No offense, Drake.”

  Drake covered the mouthpiece and grinned at her. “None taken. I get it.”

  She raised an imperious eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad someone does.”

  “Momma—” My lungs seized up, and I bent over in a coughing fit.

  She rushed over to my side, the anger on her face diminishing with the reminder of why I was actually in the hospital.

  “Darn it,” she huffed in annoyance. “I can’t even stay mad at you when you do something like that.”

  The crud in my chest loosened, and I gave her a small smile. “I am sorry. I didn’t want to worry you.” I rubbed the lines between her brows.

  Her stink-eye returned. “Do you really think pointing out my wrinkles is the wisest course of action right now?”

  Drake choked on a laugh.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you have phone calls to make?”

  He gave me a cocky nod. “Message received. By the way, your housekeeper called the office this morning and quit. Something about she wasn’t paid enough to deal with the aftermath of an orgy.”

  I winced and closed my eyes. I’d managed to keep this housekeeper for a record four months. For her to quit now...I didn’t want to see what my house looked like.

  My mom made a sound of outrage. Oh, god. I’d forgotten she was in the room. Well, that was just perfect. I scowled at Drake.

  He shrugged and then smiled evilly at me as he pretended to adjust my covers. “I’m dealing with your unhappy sponsors,” he growled in a low voice. “You should feel a little bit of the pain, too.”

  Like I didn’t have the pain from my injury. I thought he was supposed to work for me, not against me.

  “I’ll step out in the hall while you and your mom catch up.” He stepped away from the bed and nodded at my mom, who was doing some pretty good scowling of her own.

  “Thanks, man.” Thanks for nothing. The expression on my mom’s face dropped a lead ball into the pit of my stomach. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Sounds like you’ve made quite a mess of everything, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah.” W
hat else was new?

  “But you probably saved Melissa’s life, so it’s hard to stay too mad at you.” She refocused on where my ankle was propped at the end of the bed. “How bad is it?”

  I’d rather talk about Melissa and what mom knew about the mysterious beauty than my messed up ankle. But that would only lead to Mom getting false ideas about how she could set me up with “a nice girl for once.” “I’m done snowboarding for the season, but if I take care and rehab it the way I’m supposed to, I’ll be fine in a few weeks. It’s just a ligament sprain.”

  “And if you don’t take care of it the way you’re supposed to...” My mom didn’t miss anything.

  I took a deep breath. “Then I’ll need surgery to repair the ligament, but it’s not going to come to that. I’ve already talked to the physical therapist here, and it sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Would that PT be Miller Murdock?” asked my best friend, Simon, from the doorway.

  He gave my mom his patent boy-next-door grin and a wink that always kept him out of trouble with her. Those damn dimples of his always had every woman doing his bidding, even my mom.

  I grinned at him. “Hey, you. You know Miller?”

  Simon nodded. “He’s good.” As a strength and physical trainer at the Aspenridge gym, it shouldn’t surprise me that Simon knew the local PT guy. “Follow his instructions, and he’ll get you taken care of.”

  “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” I asked Simon.

  He shook his head at me and shared a commiserate look with my mom. “You have no idea, do you? Your heroics from last night are all anyone in town is talking about. I’d be a crappy best friend if I didn’t stop by to check on you.”

  “I’m fine,” I grumbled. I was no one’s hero, and to have people saying so just made my head hurt more. I was never drinking again.

  “Of course you’re fine, because I’ll make sure of it.” My mom patted my cheek and bustled around the room, peeking at the cards on the various flowers, plants, and stuffed animals delivered from fans throughout the day.