Tap (Lovibond #1)

by Georgia Cates

  “So Mom’s lying?”

  Wren rolls her eyes. “No. We’ve been out a couple of times but he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “But you like him?” Stout asks.

  “He’s a nice guy.” Way to avoid answering the question.

  “Are you going out with him again?” Thank you for asking that, Stout. Inquiring minds want to know.

  She shrugs and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

  Again.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  “Has this guy asked you for a third date?”

  “Yeah. I was supposed to see him after work last night. Something came up so I canceled.” She didn’t mention a word about having plans with any other guy.

  “You don’t have to be so pissy about it. I was only asking because I care and don’t want you going out with losers who’ll hurt you.”

  “I’ve met him, Oliver. I can vouch he’s a very nice man,” Mrs. Thorn says. Shit. She’s introduced this dick to her parents?

  “What does this guy do for a living? Is he into the same kind of stuff as you?”

  Wren looks at me and then at Stout. “He owns the restaurant on the corner from my shop. It specializes in organic and vegan dishes.”

  Was that where she’d gone for dinner last night?

  And if she had plans, when and how did she cancel them?

  Did they intend to meet up for sex after they finished work? Fuck.

  He knows all about organic and vegan stuff. Great. I’m sure they have all kinds of shit in common. Probably more than us.

  “They grow all their own herbs and use only fresh, local ingredients. Isn’t that a nice way to support the local farmers?” Mrs. Thorn asks.

  Stout chuckles. “Sounds like the perfect granola guy for you.”

  Wren shrugs again and uses her fork to push around the food on her plate. It’s her only reply.

  Until last night, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Wren in a month. She was completely free to do as she wished. I had no kind of claim on her. But things feel different after last night. I don’t want her with this guy.

  It bothers the fuck out of me she’s been seeing someone else. I don’t like it worth a damn. I can’t remember a time that’s ever happened.

  Wren is presenting me with a series of firsts. Some I like. Some, not so much. I don’t care for the way this feels at all.

  “Where do you plan on taking Lucas?” Mr. Thorn asks.

  “Actually, I was going to talk to Lawrence about giving him a tour since she’s the one who knows the area’s history. I thought when you finish we might meet for drinks over at The Distillery. They have a ton of craft beer. I’d like to do a tasting since I’m trying to come up with ideas for next winter’s seasonal. It’s never too early to start brainstorming.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” It could help us narrow down the choices.

  “What time do you want to meet?” Finally. She speaks.

  “Eight o’clock sound okay?”

  “Yeah. We should have time to hit the high points.”

  “Are you doing your Sunday girls’ trip to Tybee Island?”

  Wren looks at me. “We were planning on it.”

  “Care if Tap and I crash?”

  Wren grins as she looks at her plate. “I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

  “Lawrence has hot-ass friends.” Maybe so but they’re nothing compared to her.

  “Oliver.” Mrs. Thorn uses her warning voice. It’s one I recognize well; I’ve heard it from my mother many times.

  “Sorry. I meant to say Ivy and Kelsey are lovely young women and I’m certain you’ll enjoy their company.”

  Mr. Thorn is the first to push away from the table. “Wonderful as always, Lib.”

  Wren slides away next. “I’ll help you clear the table and load the dishwasher.”

  “No, honey. You should get an early start with Lucas. I have all day to clear this. You two get going.”

  “Okay.” Wren hugs her mother and then turns to me. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” Libby Thorn moves in for another hug. “Breakfast was delicious, especially the beignets.”

  “So glad you enjoyed it.”

  Neither of us say anything as we walk to Wren’s car. Her door barely shuts when she turns to face me, her eyes piercing mine. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “But he’s something to you.” And I hate that.

  “We’ve gone out a couple of times since Birmingham.” She averts her eyes after that comment. I should have contacted her. Shit.

  “You didn’t hear from me. I get it. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have gone out with him. But I don’t have to be happy about it. And I’m not.” There. I said it.

  “I canceled with him last night so I could be with you.” So had I not been here she would have been with him.

  She canceled but that only makes me feel like I won her for the night. He can have her back after I’m gone.

  “Have you fucked him?” I’ll be sick if she says yes. At that she tears her eyes away from the windshield to look at me. By the sharp intake of breath and raise of her eyebrows, I can tell she isn’t happy I asked that, but I have to know. She doesn’t seem angry though. She tilts her head to the side as if to find a way to read my intention or something. Is she wondering the same about me for the month we’ve been apart?

  “No.” Good. I want to keep it that way.

  “It may be selfish and none of my business but that makes me happy.” I glide my fingers over and curl them so they’re wrapped around her hand. “And I really want to kiss the fuck out of you right now.” Might as well tell her how I feel about it if I’m to keep her out of his bed.

  “I haven’t fucked him and I don’t plan to. So can we drop this?” This girl does not back down from challenges.

  Her pledge satisfies me. For now. Her strength turns me on.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Any idea what you’d like to see in Savannah today?” Sure do.

  “You in my bed naked.”

  Wren shakes her head while giggling. “You’ve already seen that once today.”

  “I could go for some more of it.” Like all day long. I’m growing hard thinking about it.

  “You’ll get more of me tonight—the after-drinks me. That should be fun.”

  “I like the before- and after-drinks you.” And the in-between.

  Wren pulls onto the road. “I think we’ll skip The Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. You’ve probably seen St. Louis Cathedral a bazillion times so it probably wouldn’t feel much different.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen it. Although it’s been a while.” I need to make a trip home to see my grandparents soon. I’ve already lost one grandparent. Babette and Pops aren’t getting any younger.

  “Would you be terribly upset if I cheated and took you on the historic on/off bus tour. I think it would be more fun than getting in and out of my car all day. And I’d like to enjoy sitting and talking with you rather than driving around the city squares.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  “We can hop off the bus if something interests you and get back on when we finish.”

  I rub my thumb over the top of her hand. “I have the only attraction I need sitting next to me right now.”

  “I believe you may be using your southern charm to woo me.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Definitely.”

  Wren parks at the welcome center and we board a trolley bound for historic Savannah. “I’m surprised by how much it reminds me of New Orleans. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “New Orleans isn’t a whole lot older than Savannah. Maybe fifteen years or so but we don’t have the melting pot of cultures like you.”

  “Which are still very much alive. Your belief in the effects of oils, herbs, and stones would be accepted there.”

  “Being an oddity doesn’t bother me. I don’t need to be accepted by closed-minded people to b
e happy.”

  No shit. “I gathered that.”

  I reach for her hand and intertwine our fingers. “Where do things stand with your biological mother and the transplant?”

  “I told her I wasn’t doing it. She called every day for a week begging me to go through with it. Things got heated so I had to stop answering the phone.”

  “That’s harassment.”

  “She doesn’t care if it kills my chances at having a baby one day. She told me I could adopt a kid if I wanted one.” Based on the things she’s told me about her mother, I’m not surprised. I don’t like this woman at all.

  She’s harassing and selfish. Doesn’t sound like much has changed since Wren was a child. “You need to take out a formal restraining order.”

  “I’m considering it.”

  Wren moves our clasped hands to her lap and places her other on top. “I’m not sure she’s actually dying. I don’t think someone who is as sick as she claims to be would have the strength to bother me as much as she does.”

  “You think she’s okay?”

  “I suspect she may want the transplant so she doesn’t have to keep going to dialysis. I think it’s a hassle for her, and she’s tired of messing with it.”

  “You think she’d ask you to sacrifice that much so she’d no longer be inconvenienced?” That’s shitty.

  “The more I’ve thought about it, I think she’d do that. I mean, I believe she’s in renal failure and a candidate for transplant but not knocking on death’s door like she says. I think that was all a guilt trip to make me agree to do it. She knows I live by the laws of attraction so she’s trying to use my beliefs to benefit herself.”

  “Sounds like you’re listening to what your gut is saying.”

  “Having her in my life again has triggered a lot of bad memories from my childhood. I just want her out.” I’m happy to see she’s changed her tune about considering the transplant.

  The trolley comes to a halt. “This is your stop for Forsyth Park,” the driver announces over the speaker.

  “Let’s get off here so you can see the fountain. It’s an iconic symbol of Savannah so it’d be a shame for you to miss it.”

  Wren laces her fingers through mine after we exit the trolley. “I don’t really know a lot about you. Who is Lucas Broussard outside of the brewery?”

  “I love the outdoors. I hunt, fish, go boating. Things you probably consider manly.” I’m not sure how Wren will feel about me hunting, considering she’s vegan.

  “What kind of hunting?”

  “Mostly deer.”

  She crinkles her nose. “You eat those sweet creatures?”

  “Yeah. Deer is delicious.”

  She puts her hand over her heart. “You shoot them?”

  “Sometimes. I use a rifle or bow depending on the season.”

  “Ahh, poor Bambi.” She closes her eyes and shivers. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”

  “What do you like to do when you’re not at the shop?”

  “I’m crafty so I enjoy making a lot of the items I sell: jewelry, dream catchers, refinish old furniture so it has purpose instead of a place at the dump.”

  I notice the necklace, bracelet, and earrings she’s wearing. “Did you make these?”

  She touches the stone hanging around her neck. “I did.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Peridot. I chose it for today because it restores new energy to the body. I needed it pretty badly after last night.” So, she knew as she packed last night she’d get little sleep. Like. That.

  “I could a use a little energy restoration myself.” It was a long night. And early morning. But oh so good.

  And I plan to do it again.

  Lawrence Thorn

  Ollie’s waiting when Brou and I arrive at The Distillery. “Hey. How’d the tour go?”

  “We did Forsyth, the squares, a quick visit to city market, and Leopold’s.” Those are most of my favorite things, specifically the ice cream parlor. I especially enjoyed watching Brou lick his cone while telling me he was practicing for tonight. Lucky, lucky ice cream. The look in his eyes . . . the movement of his tongue . . . made me quiver and become wet. Just from licking an ice cream. Because I know just how good that tongue is. Shit. Not helping thinking about that in front of my brother.

  “That’s good. You got a lot done.”

  A waitress places a glass and bottle of beer in front of each of us. “Unpoured, as requested.”

  Ollie displays a charming grin for the cute brunette. “Thank you, Casey.”

  He pours each of us a sample and then begins the steps of evaluation.

  “Gives good head?” I watch Brou for a reaction. A single brow lifts and one side of his mouth pulls upward as he tugs on his beard at the chin. That mouth. That beard. Both were all over me last night. And this morning. I can’t wait until they are again.

  “It’s decent at best,” Ollie answers before taking the first drink. “Personal preference, I’m not a fan. What do y’all think?”

  I take a drink and wait for the aftertaste. I shake my head briskly when it hits. “Shit, that is hoppy.”

  “Don’t care for it,” Brou says.

  Ollie grabs the second bottle. “Moving on.”

  We go through a dozen craft beers in an hour, which may not be much for them but it’s a lot for me. More than I’m accustomed to drinking. I’m feeling no pain.

  I’ve made two bathroom runs by the time Brou finally gives in and makes his first. I’m sort of glad. I want some alone time with Ollie so I can pick his brain. I want to know if he would truly have a problem with me dating his business partner.

  “So . . . Lucas. He’s a pretty nice guy, right?”

  He nods and takes another drink of beer before scrunching his nose. “Whew, that’s skunky.” He pushes the glass away. “Yeah. He’s a good friend.”

  “We had fun today.”

  “I’m glad. I was a little afraid you might be pissed at me for asking you to show him around without talking to you first.”

  “That was fine. I didn’t mind at all.”

  He looks at me for a moment before saying, “He was behaved, I hope.”

  “Yeah. But I guess he would be since you told him I was off limits.” Seems a good time to bring that up.

  “I did that to protect you.”

  I’m thirty-one years old. I do just fine on my own. “I don’t need my little brother protecting me.”

  “Every woman needs protecting from Tap.”

  I’m probably going to regret asking this question. “Where did that name come from?”

  The corners of Ollie’s mouth curl. “It’s a double meaning. He loves beer on tap. But he loves tapping ass more.” I’m not the least bit surprised. It’s just as I expected.

  “Tell me what man doesn’t.” I know my brother is no saint. He need not pretend he is.

  “Well, he likes it a little more than most.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Listen, sis. Tap is a great guy but he screws over a lot of women. He has an MO. Fuck a woman and then have nothing more to do with her. Happens all the time but it doesn’t always go over well. I’ve had to handle more than one scorned woman showing up at the brewery.” We’ve fucked and it seems like he wants a lot more to do with me.

  I’m seriously about to send my brother into orbit but I need to know if a romance between Brou and me would be a problem in their business relationship. “I like him.”

  “Don’t you dare even think about going there, Lawry.” Uh oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d have to kill him if he fucked you over. Which he would. Trust me, Lawry. No woman is safe with him.”

  “He wouldn’t mistreat me.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that either. Makes me sound like an authority on the matter. “Because I wouldn’t let him.”

  “I bet the other thousand women he’s fucked and dumped said the sa
me thing.” Okay. Maybe Brou was right about Ollie’s feelings, regarding a relationship between us. It’s probably best to back off before I stir too much of a stink.

  “I was just curious to see what you’d say. I’m not going to ask him out or anything.”

  “Good. Lucas Broussard’s not for you.” I don’t want Brou to catch hell from Ollie over me so it’s best to keep this secret. I’m not a fan of that but I think it’s best under these conditions. Who knows? This thing may not be going anywhere anyway.

  I say nothing more because I see Brou on his way back to the table. “What’d I miss?”

  “Horse piss. That’s what you’ve missed.” Ollie pours a sample of an IPA. “Tell me that’s not horrible.”

  Brou lifts the glass of amber and gulps it in one drink. “Horse piss is being generous.”

  This tasting has been for naught so far. “You’re trying to choose a brew for next winter?”

  “Right.”

  “People crave heavier, warmer, deeper flavors when it’s cold. Have you considered a chocolate stout or maybe some type of coffee beer?”

  Ollie and Brou look at one another and grin. “Damn. That’s not a bad idea, sis.”

  Brou punches me in the arm like I’m one of the guys. “Wren may be onto something.”

  Ollie’s head spins in Brou’s direction. “Wren? When did you give my sister a nickname?”

  “Well, umm,” Brou stutters. He needs saving.

  “It’s cute, right? Ava gave it to me. It was easier for her to say than Lawrence.”

  Brou looks at me with wide eyes. “Yeah, I guess it stuck in my head.”

  “Wren. I like it,” Ollie says.

  He drops my nickname and we finish off the last of our sampler. “I’m going to talk this chocolate stout and coffee beer option over with Porter and let him weigh in. If he likes the idea as much as us, we might give it a go.”

  I fist my hands and use my thumbs to point to myself. “It was my idea so I think you should name it after me.”

  “We’ll see.” That sounds like a no.

  We leave The Distillery and stand as a trio on the sidewalk. “I’m about tight so I’m leaving my truck here and getting a ride to Mom and Dad’s.”

  I look up at the sky. “It’s a beautiful night. I think I’ll walk home.”