Trouble Brewing

by Suzanne Baltsar

  “Okay?” He held his hand up for a high five, and I slapped it.

  “Okay.”

  “And about what happened”—he kissed my palm then held it against his chest—“I know you think people are going to talk about you, but seriously, your beer speaks for itself. It doesn’t need any defending, but I hope you know I will always defend you. Always.”

  “Always?” I smiled.

  “Yeah. You’re my girlfriend. You’re first and foremost.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Then my boyfriend kissed me. “Let’s go eat.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Blake

  Piper had taken to hanging out at the Public whenever she could. I was there almost every day because, even with two full-time managers, I liked to know what went on in my business. And that meant Piper was there with me, well on her way to being a permanent fixture.

  She looked damn good as a permanent fixture.

  I needed to finish up some paperwork, so I left her at the corner seat of the bar. The cocktail hour crowd hadn’t quite filled out yet, and she’d sweet-talked Darren into making her some of his Reuben Bites. They were his newest creation, a current special on the appetizer menu. I’d come to learn Reuben sandwiches were one of Piper’s favorite things to eat, and the little roll-ups were rapidly disappearing. I threatened to change the food’s name to Piper’s Bites, but she just did her casual Piper wave-off and went back to chowing down.

  A little while later, I found her in the same spot talking to Missy, who was cutting up lemons in thin, even slices. From my hiding spot in the hallway, I studied Piper.

  My girl’s smile was contagious. My own lips turned up at whatever she said, and I wasn’t even in the conversation. It was impossible to be in her presence and not feel included. She sucked you into her atmosphere, her happiness, and there was no other place I’d rather be. Being with Piper was like being spoiled with comfort. She was my well-worn blanket, my first cup of coffee in the morning, a cool breeze on a hot summer day. Her eyes, her hair, the way she played with the charm on her necklace—they were all my favorite things.

  She clapped her hands once with a huge grin, excited about something, and talked animatedly, drawing invisible figures in the air with her fingers. Curious, I slipped onto the stool next to her.

  “. . . spent, like, five hundred bucks on a pair of cowboy boots,” she said.

  I butted into the conversation. “You have cowboy boots?”

  She turned to me, surprise furrowing her brows. “No, Kayla does.”

  I traced one of her eyebrows with my thumb, smoothing it out.

  Missy batted the air in front of my face with a napkin. “Piper and I were discussing Nashville. Jackie and I are going there for our anniversary.”

  Missy had married her longtime girlfriend last year. “When is it?”

  “July 13.”

  “And you’re going to Nashville, not some hideaway in the woods?”

  Missy shrugged. “She likes country music.”

  When a patron called her away, I focused on Piper. “I didn’t know you’ve been to Nashville.”

  “I’ve been to a lot of state capitals. It’s on my parents’ bucket list to see each one. Speaking of”—she held up her pointer finger—“my parents are going to Des Moines in a couple of weeks, and they’re making a pit stop here.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed a napkin to wipe a spot off the bar.

  “Think you’d want to meet them?” Her high voice sounded like she was unsure of my answer, and I was almost offended.

  “Of course I want to meet my girlfriend’s parents. That all right? You ashamed of me or something?” I teased.

  She threw her arms around me. “No. I just wanted to be sure you were okay with it. Meeting the parents, that’s a big step.”

  It might’ve been a big step, but I didn’t mind taking it. In fact, I looked forward to it. I angled my face, laying tiny kisses up and down the column of her neck. Funny how easily I’d forgotten how good she smelled, even funnier how much I missed her scent when she wasn’t around. “Sunshine, I think you should know by now, I’d do just about anything for you.”

  Just as Piper’s sweet lips met mine, Missy whistled. We both turned to her.

  Missy had her chin in her hands, attention on us like a child watching a cartoon.

  “Ah,” she sighed, “young love.”

  I stood up, tugging Piper with me. “You sad about it? Now that you’re an old, married lady?”

  She blanched. “I am not old. Who told you that?”

  “Your license.”

  I avoided the towel she threw at me and headed back to my office, towing Piper behind me. I shut the door with a soft click and threw my thumb over my shoulder. “She played softball for Oregon. Has a wicked arm. Nailed me once with a lime.”

  I touched the side of my head like the lump was still there. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. It’s not funny.”

  She pressed her lips together, hiding her smile, and kissed my pout away, snaking her hands up the back of my T-shirt. Her fingers were cool against my skin, and after a long day hunched over my desk, it soothed my muscles. I nuzzled into the crook of her neck, neither of us quite kissing, while our lips barely trailed over each other.

  Her mouth grazed my chin when she asked, “You ready to go over my stuff?”

  The real reason Piper had shown up at the Public today was to go over her finances and business plan. Her goal was to open up her own brewery, and I wanted to help. But with her body pressed up against mine . . .

  “Not really, no,” I said, skating my lips across her cheek to her ear. “Maybe in a little while.”

  I cupped her thighs, guiding them up to my waist until she wrapped both of her legs around me. With her arms looped around my neck, I carried her the few steps across the room.

  “I brought my laptop,” she said, spying her messenger bag on the corner of my dark wooden desk. She reached for it, making one last-ditch attempt to get to the reason she was here.

  We would.

  But after.

  “Mhmm.” I carefully picked up the bag, without ever looking at it, and placed it on the floor. I dragged my teeth over her neck how I knew she liked.

  And then she gave in. Without saying a word, she lifted her arms in the air, and that’s all the hint I needed. I tried to lift her tank top over her head but couldn’t. The thing had fourteen thousand straps crisscrossing along her back and somehow got trapped around her head and right arm on the way off.

  The bun she wore on the top of her head drooped to the side, and the skin of her neck was blotchy from the scratch of my scruff. With one arm in the air, she looked drunk, and I chuckled.

  “Don’t just stand there and laugh,” she said, giggling herself. “Help me.”

  “I don’t know how.” I fiddled with the shirt, trying to undo the mess of tangled straps. “You’re wearing a death trap. I think I need the jaws of life.”

  “Just—”

  Two quick knocks sounded on the door before Missy said, “Blake, your sister is here asking for you.”

  I groaned and fell forward, my head on Piper’s shoulder. My sister, the destroyer of all that is good. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to her out there when we were just getting to the good stuff in here.

  “Blake?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” I said toward the door even though I wasn’t coming. Unfortunately. “You want to meet my sister?” I asked Piper, who was still twisted up in her top.

  She pointed at herself as if to ask Like this?

  “How ’bout we . . . ?” I guided her top off from the bottom hem. With a couple of tugs here and there, she was naked from the waist up, and I forgot all about what we were supposed to be doing.

  I ducked my head down and bit her shoulder.

  “We can’t,” she said, at once both trying to stop me from moving south while holding me close with her fingers in my hair.

  “Yes, we can.�
� I went to work on the button of her jeans.

  She didn’t put up a fight, and I scooted her to the end of the desk, allowing me to get a better angle. She looped her arms around me, her head falling back, and I nipped at her collarbone, dreaming of all the ways I wanted to take her in this office. On the desk. Against the wall. Over the—

  The door burst open.

  “What the hell?” I jerked upright as Piper gasped underneath. She covered herself, and I scrambled to pick up her shirt from the floor as my sister’s shocked expression melted into a sly grin.

  “You ever heard of knocking?” I yelled.

  “How was I supposed to know you’d be back here with some random girl?” She said it like it wasn’t her fault she’d interrupted us. Behind a closed door.

  Once Piper had her bra and top back in place, I turned around to face Tiffany. “She is not some random girl, and anyone with manners would knock first.”

  She held her hands up. “Okay. Okay. No need to get snippy.”

  I ground my teeth together. She was impossible.

  “Why don’t you introduce me to your not-so-random girl?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Piper, whose face was tomato-red. I raised my brows silently, asking her permission, and she offered a faint nod and smile.

  “Tiffany,” I said, stepping to the side to let Piper stand up. “This is my girlfriend, Piper. Piper, this is my sister.”

  “Girlfriend?” she repeated, surprised.

  “Hi.” Piper offered Tiffany a handshake.

  My sister appraised her with dark, critical eyes, reminiscent of my mother’s. She barely grasped Piper’s hand. “Hello.”

  “I’m sorry about—”

  “Don’t apologize,” I told Piper. I crossed my arms, having absolutely no patience for Tiffany. “What are you doing here?”

  Her brows narrowed in that way that made it seem like I was the stupid one. “It’s Thirsty Thursday.”

  “Oh. Obviously.” I couldn’t believe my sister and Piper were the same age. Piper was mature, owned a business, and was a strong, independent woman. Tiffany still participated in college traditions and said things like “Thirsty Thursday.”

  “A couple of us from work are out for cocktails. I thought it was perfect we came here since I don’t have to pay for drinks.”

  “You have to pay for drinks,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

  “But I’m your sister.”

  “And you can pay for your own drinks.”

  She stomped her foot. “Seriously? You’re really going to make me pay?”

  “Yes.” If she was any other kind of person, I wouldn’t have minded letting her order a few on me, but she was a spoiled brat who’d been here multiple times, always using me as her personal bank of alcohol.

  She grumbled, and I motioned to the hallway. “Is that all you wanted?”

  “Actually,” she started, holding her cell phone up since it was fused to her hand. “I wanted to know if I could use your car.”

  “For what?”

  “Madison’s bachelorette is this weekend in Chicago.”

  “What about your car?”

  She hesitated before answering. “It’s in the shop. Had a little fender bender a few days ago.”

  I shook my head.

  “Come on, Blake.” She pouted.

  “No. That’s a six-hour drive. You can’t even go six minutes without getting into a car accident.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, forcing her back toward the main room. “But find another ride. You’re not using mine.”

  She whipped around on me just as we got to the bar. Her long, manicured fingernail pointed at me. “You’re an asshole, you know that? Do you have any idea what it means to be family? You know, help each other?”

  I brushed away her insinuation. Tiffany loved to play the victim. “Guess I shouldn’t expect any Christmas gifts from you then. As usual.”

  She scoffed at me and turned on her heel to go back to the trio of men and one woman in her group. They were all dressed smartly, Tiffany the lone standout in a pink dress, a little short for the office, I thought.

  I got Missy’s attention. “Don’t let her go without paying.”

  “Sure.” Missy nodded, looking way too happy to have a mission for the night.

  I pivoted around, heading back to the office. Piper was seated in the chair in front of my desk, laptop out.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, closing the door. “At least I learned a very important lesson.” I pointedly locked the door.

  She gave a little shrug and went back to whatever she was looking at on her computer.

  I stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. “So.”

  “So, there’s a two-story warehouse for sale that I love. I drove by it a couple weeks ago.”

  I bent down, checking out the pictures on the real estate website. I kissed her neck. “Looks good.”

  “It’s nine hundred and fifty thousand.” She pointed to the number on the screen, and I whistled.

  “Steep.” I curled my hands around her shoulders, slowly inching down to her chest.

  “Blake.” She turned to look back at me.

  “What?” I played at innocence.

  “No.”

  “No?” Five minutes ago we were hot and heavy; we could get back there real quick again.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No. Being interrupted kind of took the fun out of it.”

  “Fine.” I plopped down in my chair with a heavy sigh. Tiffany knew how to ruin my day in more ways than one.

  Piper placed her laptop on my desk. “She seems real nice, by the way.”

  I smirked at the sarcasm in her voice. “Yeah. A real peach.”

  “Has she always been so . . .”

  “Childish?” I offered. “Juvenile? Foolish? Spoiled?”

  Her gaze went up to the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah. All of the above.”

  I shrugged. “She’s the baby. The apple of my parents’ eye. She can do no wrong, according to them, and they feed into her ridiculous behavior.”

  “She kind of reminds me of that little girl from Willy Wonka. The one who wants a golden goose.”

  “Yup,” I agreed, moving the laptop so we could both see. “That’s exactly who she is. Now, what are we looking at here?”

  Piper took me through her production calculations and projections. We also looked at her current budget, and what she wanted her budget to be when she expanded. We looked at costs of insurance, supplies and equipment, permits, and every other boring detail that went into making a brewery go. But this was the important groundwork.

  We worked together to shape all the information into a business proposal so when she was ready, she could go to the bank for a loan. It took about four hours until we finished, but I could physically see her shoulders relax from the weight of the stress being taken away.

  “Come on,” I said, slipping her computer into her bag before looping it over my shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

  “I’m exhausted.” She yawned as we walked into the kitchen to leave out of the back door. “All that thinking took a lot out of me.”

  I waved good-bye to the staff and let Piper walk out to the parking lot in front of me, but I caught her wrist. “Hope you’re not too tired. You owe me.”

  “I owe you?”

  “Yeah. I believe the payment for helping you out with your business plan is two hours of naked Piper time.”

  She quirked her eyebrow. “And I believe you owe me for your sister walking in on us.”

  I clucked my tongue, shaking my head back and forth. “Call it a draw?”

  “Okay.”

  We shook hands, and I snuck in a quick kiss before she headed to her car. “See you at your place in half an hour.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Piper

  I bounced on my toes by the luggage carousel, as groups of indistinguishable travelers wit
h rolling bags, backpacks, earbuds, and heads bent down over cell phones passed me by.

  Mom had texted about ten minutes ago that they had landed, and I couldn’t be more excited to see her and Dad. Just as I was about to text her again, I saw my dad’s head stick up above the rest. At almost sixty, he still had a full head of hair. It had started graying at the sides, but with his tall stature and angular chin, he could probably pass for forty-five.

  “Dad!”

  His head popped up, and behind his thin, wire-rimmed glasses his eyes lit up. “Pippi!”

  I jumped into his arms, and he caught me around the waist. He kissed the top of my head. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said, then let go of him to hug my mom.

  She kissed every part of my face while simultaneously smooshing me to her chest. Unlike my father, my mother was short, with a blond pixie cut. Looking at her, you wouldn’t think she was fifty-six years old. Her skin was still mostly clear of wrinkles, save for the few around her bright blue eyes. I was convinced the Colorado mountain air kept my parents young and fit.

  “Mommy,” I cooed, feeling like a kid again in her arms.

  “How’s my girl been?”

  “Good,” I said, taking her hand. The three of us caught up while we waited for their luggage.

  Dad told me he couldn’t nap on the flight because he’d lost his beloved neck pillow, and Mom proudly showed off the new purse Dad had bought her for their anniversary last month. When the alert went off to let the passengers know their luggage was on its way, we immediately set off on our stupid, but decades-old, family game.

  The person to get the most bags first won. I’m sure it started as a way to make it easier and faster to get out of the airport, but it had turned into an all-out Williams Family War. There was no actual prize to be won, unless you counted bragging rights, which just so happened to be enough for three constantly squabbling sisters.

  After I was blocked from grabbing my dad’s luggage by an older couple who moved slower than turtles, Mom ended up the winner, but I called foul since she had some teenage kid grab her bag from the belt. Dad gave her a high five and shrugged on his backpack.