Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “I am talking about Ben,” she sobbed as if she were revealing a big secret.

  “Ben loves you. And, he’s coming back. You’re not going to never hear from him again.”

  “He asked me to go with him.” The words burst out of her mouth so fast it was as if she’d been standing in front of them holding them back until her knees gave out from exhaustion.

  “That doesn’t sound like a man who’s looking to toss you aside.”

  “I said no.” She sniffed and shook her head as if she didn’t understand it herself. “I said no.”

  I thought of Jenna and Ben and then I thought of Jason and it took everything in me to not scream, Good Lord, woman! Why?

  Instead, I took a deep breath and asked it more softly and without the lord’s-name-in-vain part.

  “I don’t know. I just, it seemed like so much. I followed my high school boyfriend to college and that turned out horrible. Like, left at the altar horrible. What if I followed Ben all the way to a different country and then he left me? I’d just be sitting on a rainy sidewalk in the middle of London almost getting hit by cars going the wrong direction.”

  I’ll say this for her, the girl had a vivid imagination.

  “I don’t want to be the naysayer here, but I don’t think Ben would just drop you and leave you to fend for yourself.”

  “That would be even worse. What if we got to London and he realized he attached himself to a goofy, introverted, awkward nerd and now as a cosmopolitan international lawyer fighting environmental bad guys he saw how mismatched we were and didn’t dump me out of pity?”

  “I think he already knows who you are.” I pictured the look Ben gave Jenna when she was being particularly Jenna and smiled. The man loved that side of her. I imagine that compared to working with complex world issues all day, Jenna’s feyness had to be a restful place for his soul.

  “He can’t possibly.”

  “If he really did see you that way, then he probably would have taken this assignment as a chance to see what being apart was like. He’d be all let’s-take-a-break guy. He wouldn’t be the guy asking you to go with him.”

  “He’s very polite.”

  I snorted. Only Jenna could think someone would ask her to move across the world with him because he was being polite.

  “No one is that polite.” I waved my hand between us before she could tell me that Ben was. “Have you asked him?”

  “Asked him what?”

  “If he wants to take a break?”

  She stared at me as if I’d told her to kill the darn dream kitten. Which—no. I wasn’t that desperate.

  Yet.

  “What if he says yes? What if he wants to take a break?” I didn’t blame her for the horror she felt at that thought. If I had a guy who I loved like she loved Ben, not to mention who looked at her the way he did, I’d be horrified at tempting the fates, too.

  “I’d bet everything I have that he wouldn’t. I’d bet you’d actually scare the snot out of him and he’d think you were trying to dump him.”

  She pondered this. Any other woman would be using this as a test, as a weapon. But I knew Jenna. Part of her was considering it because if Ben would be happier without her, she’d let him go. She’d suffer and she’d enter that suffering with her eyes open, but she’d do what she thought was best for him.

  “Maybe,” she started as she raised her free hand to gnaw at her cuticles. “Maybe I’ll wait until close to when he goes.”

  “Will you be all mopey-sad eyes until then?” I grabbed her hand and yanked it from her mouth in a sad attempt to rescue her knuckles.

  She yanked it back and wiped her eyes, a new surety entering her gaze.

  “No. No moping. If this is the end, I want to enjoy it all. I’ll make sure we have the best two weeks ever.”

  She gave a sharp nod as if agreeing with her own statement and was forming a plan already. Jenna was sure she’d be creating memories that would have to last her a lifetime. I was sure she’d only be driving more desperation into Ben to keep her with him.

  I kind of wish she’d taken my bet, I could use the money. I was that sure of him.

  “Thanks, Kasey. You’re a really good friend. I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t been here for me.”

  She patted my hand as I let hers go and rose to head toward the counter as if everything that had just happened had been neatly put in a box to store for later. I knew that box would be forgotten in some mental storage unit, but I was glad she was able to do it.

  I watched her, shocked at how good it felt. I had actual friends. Or, at least one. Someone to do more than go out for a drink with after work. Someone who shared her problems with me and talked them through. Someone who trusted me to be honest with her and help where I could. I was enjoying that simple pleasure when a deep voice came from behind me.

  “Hey.”

  I half expected see a kitten on Max’s shoulder when I looked up at him.

  Instead, he stood there in his cop gear, the memory of the night we met rushing up and over me like a wave on a flat ocean. Part of it was the hurt of standing on the side of the road in the dark, trying to figure out how my life had become so empty while Jason stood next to his car raving at me. But part of it was the look of disgust Officer Max had given him and the teasing behave he’d thrown at me.

  “Hey.”

  He glanced toward Jenna at the counter before stepping around my junk to sit next to me. It was a relief to not have him hovering there, overwhelming me. Until I looked at him and realized he had the capacity to be overwhelming even if you put him in a well and had to shout down at him.

  “What was that?” He angled his head at Jenna.

  “What?”

  “The breakdown.”

  Oh. I’d assumed he’d just gotten there.

  “She’s…” I didn’t think sharing how Jenna was feeling with anyone was a good idea. Especially Ben’s best friend. But, this group seemed really tight. I wasn’t used to the politics of close friends. Not since undergrad. And my group had been all women then.

  “She’s…” Max looked at me then glanced her way and stole her seat. “She’s worried that Ben doesn’t want her to go to England even though he’s bought her an open-ended ticket she can use any time and done everything but ask her to marry him because he’s afraid that would just put too much pressure on her to do something she doesn’t want.”

  How was I supposed to respond to that?

  “Is that a question?”

  “No. I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” That was sweet.

  No. Not sweet. Officer Max was not sweet…sans kittens.

  “You know, they do that whole couple’s rule thing, but he hasn’t told her all that.”

  “Couple’s rule?”

  “You know. The no secrets thing.”

  “You mean they tell each other everything?” That meant anything one person figured out would go through the group twice as quickly.

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Well, was that what he meant or not?

  “Why doesn’t he just tell her all this?”

  Max leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, dropping his ankle over his knee. “Are we a couple?”

  I tried to hide my panic.

  From the way he rolled his eyes at me, I was unsuccessful.

  Before I could blurt out a more polite version of, No!, Max shook his head and answered, “Then we don’t have the couple's rule thing and I can’t tell you.”

  I narrowed my eyes, trying to stare him down like he did to everyone else. Trying to get him to break.

  Instead, he laughed at me.

  “Tuesday, you’re adorable. Never give that up.”

  I gave up.

  Abby appeared in front of us, a to-go cup in her hand. “Max.”

  “Abigail.”

  “John wanted you to have your caffeine before you went all Berserker on him.”

  “
Yes, I can see that you’d feel in danger of that.”

  Abby rolled her eyes like a pro, set the cup down, and wandered off.

  Max took a deep drink from the cup, his eyes dropping shut. “I love that kid.”

  “For real?”

  “Yup.”

  Who would have guessed it? Abby had a fan.

  I glanced down at my computer where the screen had gone black, wondering what time it was and how long Jenna would hang out at the counter. Didn’t Max have places to be? There was crime out there waiting to be fought.

  But, safe crime. The type where no one shoots at him.

  “No one shoots at you, right?”

  “You mean, on a regular basis?”

  Not the most comforting answer.

  I closed my eyes and pictured him and kittens.

  “What’s that?” Suspicion actually crept into his voice like it was a real thing that could creep places.

  “What?”

  “That smile you just got.” He set his cup down and turned to face me. “Are you hoping people shoot at me?”

  “No.” My voice shot over the café, ricocheting and bringing everyone’s gazes back to me. “Of course not. Why would I hope that?”

  “If I could figure out why you do the things you do, I’d probably win a Nobel.”

  “I’m not even going to reply to that.”

  He gave me a grin that said, you just did, and I forced myself not to reply to that.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” He asked as he pushed himself out of the chair.

  I glanced up from my chair at Max hovering, his to-go cup blocking a good look at him.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. The part of the day when the sun is no longer in the sky.”

  “Did we have plans for tonight?” I glance toward Jenna wondering if I’d done something to be on the outs. If I’d already run through my welcome and was no longer the rookie member of the group.

  “No. But I thought we could.”

  “Could what?”

  It wasn’t that I was an idiot, but I couldn’t follow his logic at this point.

  “Do something. I thought you and I could do something.”

  “So, instead of asking me if I want to do something you ask me what it is I want to do?”

  “I planned to skip most of this conversation.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Apparently I was wrong.”

  “You’re wrong more often than you think.”

  He shot me a grin, dropping the coffee cup low enough that he made sure I could see that dimple. I was onto him. At some point a woman must have told him it was deadly. “I’m okay with that.”

  “Really? You don’t seem like the type of guy who likes to be wrong.”

  “Actually, I just figured you were wrong about me being wrong, but I didn’t want to get even more sidetracked.”

  That sounded more like Max.

  “Right, so you’re wrong and I’m going to be the bigger person.” I gave him a smile and let him deal with that.

  “What am I wrong about?”

  Crud, I’d totally lost the thread of this conversation. It seemed to be pushing it to say everything. So, I fell back on an old reliable. “You know what you’re wrong about.”

  Max laughed, a deep, startled sound that seemed to rise up from his chest and surprise him.

  “Sure. Of course. So, tonight. What do you want to do?”

  “You mean like a date?”

  Max rolled his head, his gaze straying heavenward and I swear his lips moved, probably asking for patience or strength or understanding…but most likely for all of the above.

  “How about just two people who have already enjoyed dinner and a movie and a foreign film and a coffee and a game night—”

  “You enjoyed game night?”

  He grinned, a wicked surprise of a grin I hadn’t expected from him. “Yes.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but that seemed to be a lost cause.

  “So, tonight is just to hang out?”

  “We’ll hang out.”

  We stared at each other, both of us with narrowed gazes, trying to read the other.

  “Fine. I’d like to hear some live music.”

  “Really?” Now Max was the surprised one.

  “Yes. I think I’d like it.”

  It was on The List I was informally making in my head of things single girls in the city did when not being distracted by a controlling boyfriend.

  “Anything in particular?”

  “Just nothing heavy-metal-ish.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “I’ll meet you on your stoop.”

  “How about I meet you on your stoop?”

  “How about I decide where I meet you and text you tomorrow?”

  “For tonight?”

  I gave him my The Look.

  “Fine.” Max downed the rest of his coffee, tossed the cup in the recycle bin, and pulled his little cop hat on. “Eight o’clock on my stoop.”

  Win!

  “Stay out of trouble, Tuesday.”

  And off he went.

  Jenna, conveniently was done with whatever she was doing at the counter and wandered over just then.

  “Did he call you Tuesday?”

  So much for staying out of his sphere.

  23

  I left my house absurdly early to walk the three-quarters block to Max’s stoop. I had a completely rational fear that if I left on time he’d be standing at my door waiting for me.

  He couldn’t be trusted.

  On the downside, between my making sure this wasn’t a date and not asking him where we were going, I had no idea what to wear. My bedroom could now pass for a scene out of Law & Order. In cop lingo, it looked like it had been tossed.

  I definitely needed to ask Max if cops really talked like that.

  After trying on everything I owned more than once, I settled on skinny jeans, my most comfortable black heels, and a little black top that could go either way depending on location and accessories.

  I’d never worn this outfit before. I checked myself out in the mirror a bit surprised. The skinny jeans were just nice enough to be saved for a night out and the top I’d only worn under little jackets at work.

  More proof I was getting my life on the right track.

  Also, if I was going to be honest, I looked super cute. Either that or I’d gone blind in exchange for a pretty decent ego boost.

  Which meant that maybe I should change again. If I looked too cute then that might go against the whole not-a-date message.

  But, Max agreed it wasn’t a date. I think. Or he just agreed that he knew I didn’t think it was a date. But, that would mean it’s not a date. Something can’t be a date if both people don’t agree, right?

  Crud. I should change.

  Except, it was ten of eight and Max was probably plotting to beat me to my stoop before I could get to his.

  I was going to have to head out in date clothes.

  It was a risk I was willing to take.

  I grabbed a light jacket and rushed down the stairs. Or, I rushed down two stairs, realized that rushing in non-work heels was almost impossible, pictured myself lying broken at the bottom of the first flight with Max shaking his head at me, and slowed down.

  Glancing at the time on my phone, I considered sliding down the banister, but vetoed that as well.

  At the front door, I glanced through the glass panes half-expecting him to be there.

  When he wasn’t, I fought off the tiny bit of disappointment I felt. I’d thought he’d be there. That’s all. I wanted to be able to give him the not-a-date talk one more time and figured if he ignored my request that would give me an excuse.

  An excuse to what? I’m not sure.

  Instead, as I walked down the street, I could see him leaning against the banister at the bottom of his stoop, playing on his phone. He wore jeans that were just fitted enough to look good with a white button down shirt tucked in, the sleeve
s rolled up over his forearms.

  I studied his outfit trying to figure out if he was wearing date clothes. He looked really good, but I didn’t think that was the clothing’s fault.

  As if he had some type of radar, he glanced up and straightened as I made my way to him, the clicking of my heels the only giveaway someone was approaching. I tried not to blush as his gaze slid over me taking in my little shirt, fitted jeans, and peek-a-boo patent leather shoes. When he smiled that cocky smile I knew he thought these were date clothes.

  Darn it.

  “These aren’t date clothes.”

  “Of course not.”

  I waited for the punch line, but when he didn’t say anything else I had to bite my tongue from saying, No really. They aren’t.

  “You look very nice,” was what he said instead.

  “So do you.”

  “Thank you. I did something special with my hair.”

  I glanced up at his close cut hair, the top just long enough to not look military, trying to figure out what exactly that was.

  “Tuesday, I’m kidding.”

  He took the last step down to the sidewalk and glanced at my shoes.

  “How comfortable are those?”

  “Very.”

  “So, if I said we were going to walk down to the waterfront and back tonight, you’d be okay?”

  “Actually, yes. They’re Franco Sarto.”

  “Whatever that means.” He motioned for me to turn back the way I’d come and fell in next to me.

  I glanced at my apartment as we went by realizing he hadn’t pushed to pick me up even though it was the right direction. He’d understood it was important to me and didn’t push.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t even know I was going to say it until it was out of my mouth.

  “For what?”

  I studied the cracks in the sidewalk, making sure my heel didn’t get caught in one…or my gaze in his. “For getting me out of the house tonight.”

  “Mmm-hm.”

  I was just going to pretend he believed me.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, since it obviously wasn’t the waterfront which was the opposite direction.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I was about to tell him I didn’t like surprises, but then realized I wasn’t sure that was true. I didn’t like surprises at work. I certainly didn’t like surprise breakups that left me homeless. But maybe normal surprises were okay.