Real Kind of Love (Books & Brews Series Book 1)

by Sara Rider

  They weren’t bad people. In fact, they were amazing people. Kind, warm-hearted and generous. They were just…a lot sometimes. Clem was the one who didn’t fit in. The wilted bloom in a bouquet of wildflowers.

  The hot water soothed her tight muscles as she scrubbed her hair and skin, grounding her against the sensory overload jumbling her thoughts and emotions. The shampoo replaced the pungent smell of tomatoes with coconut, which helped her feel like a real human again. She turned off the tap, wrapped a giant, fluffy towel around her body, and set off in search of some clean clothes in her mom’s closet to wear while hers were in the wash.

  No surprise her mom had already snuck into the bedroom and laid out a pair of shorts and T-shirt on top of the floral bedspread. Unfortunately, since Clem’s bra had also gotten doused with tomatoes, she needed to find an extra layer to cover up. She spotted her dad’s purple Huskies hoodie on the bench in front of the vanity, but that wasn’t what made her heart take a flying leap right into her throat.

  A list of names, starting with the guy her mom had set her up on a blind date with three weeks ago—the same guy who never showed up and left her feeling like a fool in the middle of the fanciest restaurant in town. His name had been crossed out with an angry face doodled beside it. Martin Ellis’s name was next on the list, followed by a dozen more. It was like watching a horror film in slow motion as she read each one. She recognized some of them, like her mom’s new gynecologist she was always raving about, and the local butcher who’d made it clear he wasn’t interested the last time she’d been there when her mom loudly suggested they go on a date.

  It. Was. Never. Going. To. End.

  This was an official declaration of war on her single status, and no matter how much she protested, there was no way to broker a peace treaty once her family united around a common cause.

  Cold sweat prickled her forehead. Maybe it made her pathetic, but after what happened last night, she didn’t have the energy left to deal with one more invasion of her privacy today. She dropped her head into her hands and listened to the faint traces of the conversation happening downstairs echoing up through the floor vents. She could only make out a few words, but they included her name, Martin’s name, Wednesday night, and surprise.

  This could not be happening.

  The worst part of it all was that she really did want to meet a nice guy, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. Not through her family’s cringe-worthy machinations that made everything feel tarnished and contrived. She just didn’t know how to connect with someone new without all the exhausting small talk that made her want to curl inside herself.

  A knock at the door made her jump out of her skin. “You okay in there, sweetie?”

  “Yeah, Mom. Be right out,” she managed to say, despite her voice clinging to the edge of her throat like molasses.

  “Oh good. Pizza’s going to be here soon. We ordered Hawaiian. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  Ask for what you need. Jake’s words surfaced to the front of her mind. Sure she’d been a fool to think there was a spark there earlier, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t listen to his advice. And what she needed right now was to escape her shitty reality and still find a way to hit the deadline for the book she was recording. The book that had her stuck without inspiration—something that had never happened to her before.

  She didn’t even want to think about what it said about her that she could come up with hundreds of voices for different alien species, and detail complex spaceship battles with perfect rhythm, but she couldn’t even figure out how to convincingly narrate a simple erotic romance with only two main characters. Every attempt to capture the hero’s sophisticated yet deliciously filthy voice sounded like an overdrawn caricature. Her pacing was completely off and the sensuality that made the words so beautiful on the page seemed to disappear the moment she spoke them.

  It was like her increasingly pathetic sex life was choking out all the passion in the book. Since an impulsive one-night stand to get her in the right frame of mind wasn’t going to happen, she needed to do something else equally reckless.

  She grabbed her phone and quickly pulled up a vacation rental website and booked the first one-bedroom cabin in the North Cascades that was available for the entire week. The robbery last night had left her itching to do something drastic and indulging in a little self-care was exactly what she needed.

  The heavy weight on her lungs loosened the moment she hit the confirmation button, letting her breathe normally for the first time that day. She threw the hoodie on, forced a smile back on her face, and headed down the stairs.

  She only made it five steps before the homemade glitter cannon exploded in her face.

  “Surprise!”

  She was greeted with an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday as she descended the stairs. She would have sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening to just kill her now, but the thought of going to her grave covered in purple glitter was even more unbearable.

  Mike, Chastity’s husband, wrapped his arm around Clem’s shoulder, holding her captive while his identical twin brother Andrew—Clover’s husband—gave her a noogie. “One for every day of your birthday month.”

  She grimaced and held back her protest, something that was much easier to do knowing that tomorrow she would be escaping to the woods with nothing but her overflowing pile of books to be read.

  Her mom escorted her to the living room, squishing her between Ellie and her twin sister, Millie, on the sagging green love seat. The rest of her family nestled into the various seats around the room. “I know your birthday isn’t for two weeks, sweetie, but you seemed like you were in a bad mood, so we decided to celebrate now to cheer you up!”

  “This…is a surprise,” she managed to say.

  “And we’ve got one more surprise for you. Something you’re going to love.”

  Millie burrowed her head into Clem’s lap like a cat seeking affection. She stroked her fine blond hair, calm with the knowledge that she had a plan in place to avert the oncoming disaster. “What kind of surprise?”

  “We’re taking you on that new Disney Dinner Cruise!” Her dad burst out before her mom got the chance, gray mustache stretching like a caterpillar over his jovial smile. “The one that leaves from the harbor downtown.”

  “I know you’ve always loved Disney, so we figured this would be perfect for you.” Her mom clapped her hands. “And the best part is the whole family’s going, too. Even the kids!”

  It was true she’d developed a mild obsession with The Little Mermaid when she was seven, but that was because it was her first taste of magic and fantasy. She’d moved on the moment she discovered the addictive escapism of books, but somehow she couldn’t convince her family of that fact.

  “We get to stay up past our bedtime,” Ellie said with a grin.

  “Oh, wow. That’s wonderful.” The words tasted like salt in her mouth, but she managed to get them out without losing her smile. Acting had never been her thing, but thanks to her narration skills, she knew how to imbue her words with convincing sincerity. “When?”

  “Wednesday night! And since we happen to have an extra ticket, we can invite Martin to come along,” her mom said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Five hours trapped on a blind date, surrounded by her family and servers dressed in Mickey Mouse costumes, and no way out but overboard? Nice was not the word she would use to describe that particular hellscape. “Oh no. I wish you had told me sooner. I’ve already booked a holiday for this week. And it’s non-refundable.”

  It was almost funny the way every single one of her family’s jaws dropped one by one.

  “But Auntie Clem, you never go on holiday,” Ellie said. “Mommy says it’s because you’re so lonely. That’s why you have to come with us. It’s your birthday surprise!”

  Clover looked too bewildered by Clem’s revelation to bother denying her child’s claim. “But you haven’t said anything about it to us,” C
lover whined, as though the idea of Clem making decisions independently of her family was inconceivable.

  “I decided to do something different for my birthday. To treat myself. But I know this cruise means a lot to all of you, so you should still go. Without me.”

  “Where exactly are you going?” Chastity asked.

  “Just to Beecham Lake. It’s a remote little lake on the east side of the Cascades.”

  “Aw, man. I love it up there,” Andrew said. “Great fishing. You going fishing?”

  Clem shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. I haven’t made too many plans yet.”

  Her mom frowned. “Are you staying at a hotel?”

  “Uh, no. I rented a cabin.” Pins and needles prickled at her skin. This was starting to feel like an interrogation. “A small, one-bedroom place on the water.”

  “No way, our uncle has a bunch of properties up there. We used to go all the time when we were kids. I bet you’re staying at one of his rentals.” Mike pulled out his phone and showed her a picture from the same vacation rental site she’d used.

  Clem was just one tiny little person in this great big world. There was no way fate would bother to single her out just to screw with her so viciously. There had to be some sort of mathematical impossibility for what she was seeing. And yet Mike was holding up an image of the exact little cabin she’d just emptied every last dime in her PayPal account to pay for.

  “You know, this reminds me that it’s been quite a while since we’ve had a family vacation. Ellie and Millie are six years old and still don’t know how to light a campfire or construct a debris hut. In fact, Clem, when you were six, I’d already taught you how to purify water using nothing but a straw and a flashlight.”

  She ran her suddenly sweaty palms against her shorts. “Sure, that would be great, Dad. Maybe next summer.”

  Her dad shook his head. “Why wait? This is a perfectly good time for a family vacation.”

  “Because—”

  “We’re in luck! I just texted Uncle Joe and he said we can stay at his place next door to Clem’s rental for free,” Mike said, giving Andrew a high five like a couple of frat boys. “It has three bedrooms.”

  The room erupted in a din of chatter that made her head spin.

  “No!” Clem dug her fingers into cushion of her seat. “What about the cruise? You’ve probably all been looking forward to it. We can do a family trip another time.”

  “Nonsense. The tickets weren’t expensive and there’s still time to put them on Craigslist.”

  No, no, no! “But…you have jobs. You can’t just take off last minute.”

  “Pssh. Your dad’s retired and the girls and I will close up the shop for the week,” her mom said with a dismissive wave.

  “I’ve only got a couple clients booked this week, and I’ve got a co-worker who owes me a favor,” Andrew, who made his living as a personal trainer, said while Mike, a gym teacher with no responsibilities over the summer, gave her a thumbs up.

  “Perfect. We can all go so you won’t have to be lonely on your vacation,” her mom said. “But we’re still a couple bedrooms short.”

  “But I won’t be lonely,” she protested like a ghost in the room no one could see or hear.

  “I could sleep with Grandma Jean in her bed. No biggie,” Olive, Chastity’s fourteen-year-old daughter offered.

  “That could work. Ellie and Millie will have to sleep with you in your cabin, Clem.”

  “No! No one is staying in my cabin with me.” She hadn’t meant to shout again, but it was the only way to cut through the cacophony in the room. She loved the twins. Really, really loved them, but spending a week with their tiny little feet digging into her back every night and waking up at 6:00 a.m. sharp was not a vacation.

  “Don’t you want to spend time with us?” Millie looked up at her with a pout on her angelic face.

  Crap. “Of course, honey. It’s just that I’m…um…I’m bringing my boyfriend with me.” She didn’t know where the lie came from but it worked, so she ran with it. “This was supposed to be a romantic getaway. Just him and me.”

  A small part of her felt bad for lying, but the only alternative was to tell her family she didn’t want them to come. But even that wouldn’t stop them from coming, it would only hurt their feelings.

  A smile slowly spread across her mom’s face. “What? Why didn’t you say so, Clemmy? All this time I’ve been trying to set you up with Martin and you only tell me now you’ve got a boyfriend? Who is he? Where did you meet him? What does he do?”

  The barrage of questions made her head spin. Lying on the spot wasn’t one of her strengths. There was a reason she preferred to perform the words of others than to make up her own stories.

  Actually, that was a brilliant idea. Why not let the story she was working on lie for her? “He’s…um…an art dealer. And I haven’t talked about him because he’s a very private person. It’s all very new.”

  “Ooh, very mysterious,” her mom cooed. “Of course you need your space.”

  Thank god. She leaned back against the couch, sinking into the overwhelming feeling of relief. She would figure out how to unravel the lie later. Tonight she was going to enjoy the fact that one thing had actually gone right this weekend.

  Mike’s phone dinged with the unmistakable sound of another text coming through. “Awesome. Uncle Joe came through for us. He’s going to leave his RV in the lot of the main cabin. Looks like we’ll all fit after all. Can’t wait to meet your new boyfriend, Clem.”

  Oh shit.

  4

  Jake spent the next few hours finishing up the accounts payable, trying to ignore the fact his ex was probably still running through the list of things she didn’t like about the Holy Grale. The old stained glass windows were too creepy. The classic pint glasses too pedestrian. And his personal favorite—the wood tables smelled “too woody.”

  Kelly had always hated the place. When they were together, she’d been jealous of the time he put into it, complaining about the long hours and single-minded purpose he’d devoted to the place. Not that he blamed her. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to tell her he was planning on buying the pub until it was done. It was just another sign that they didn’t belong together. It would be so much easier if she could just accept that. There was a time when they’d hid under the table at their parents’ dinner parties, sneaking extra dessert and giggling about how boring old people were. It wasn’t long before their parents actively pushed them into dating.

  Once the sheen of puppy love wore off, there was no foundation to their relationship. He used to count down the days until the school holidays when he’d come back home from college in Seattle to see her, but as the years went on, he started to look forward to the start of classes. It was an escape from the bickering and the pressure to be someone he no longer recognized. Someone he didn’t like with a future he didn’t want. Hell, even Kelly seemed to resent his visits. The only time they seemed to get along was when their clothes were coming off. But he was too young and foolish back then to recognize that wasn’t healthy.

  Inertia, not love, led to their engagement. Looking back on all those wasted years was like watching himself driving straight toward a cliff, not realizing until the eleventh hour that he could turn the wheel in a different direction.

  He closed his laptop and looked around at his neatly organized office. Not one speck of dust or misaligned stack of papers anywhere. Scott, the evening bartender, would arrive any minute and he was more than capable of handling the Sunday night crowd on his own. There was nothing left to do but sit around and stew in his frustration like a coward while Kelly sat fifteen feet away, probably insisting they paint the entire building bright pink to match her wedding colors. Not fucking happening.

  He headed to the brewery room, stopping to grab a few cleaning supplies from the closet on his way. Eli was the brewmaster, which meant this area was strictly his domain, while Jake handled the front end of the operations, but there was always something
that needed to be done back here. Eli was militant about the regular maintenance and cleaning of the tanks, for both safety and quality reasons, but there was never enough time to catch up on the little things like sweeping the floors and scrubbing the residue out of the kegs.

  He rolled up the sleeves on his flannel shirt and got to work on the latter, expelling his frustrations through the sheer physicality of the menial task.

  “Uh oh. Someone’s rage-cleaning again.”

  With the whirring of the machines, Jake didn’t hear Eli come into the room until he was a few feet away. He tossed an extra rag at his friend, but Eli just let it bounce of his chest and fall to the ground.

  “You can scrub all you want, but you’ll never get that black mark off your soul.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ll get these kegs cleaned faster if you give me a hand.”

  “Better yet, come give this a taste and leave the kegs for the poor, impressionable underlings we pay to clean them. I’m working on a new recipe for an imperial porter that I think we can introduce in the fall.” Eli handed him a half-pint of frothy black liquid.

  Jake let the thick beer coat his mouth, savoring the complex flavors.

  Eli studied him for the slightest negative reaction. The man was a goof in most ways, but he took his beer—and criticism thereof—incredibly seriously. Luckily, Jake didn’t have to hide anything. “Shit, that’s good stuff. Really good.”

  Eli cracked a relieved smile. “Awesome. I used a new malt to make the flavor more caramel-ly than chocolate. I think we could pitch it as an entry-level dark beer for people who want the complexity without the bitterness or a long finish. We could call it the Spiritual Imperial since we’ll be helping all the little dark beer virgins find God. Unless you think it needs less hops.”