Trouble Brewing

by Suzanne Baltsar

  “It’s not creepy,” I said, forgetting for a second this wasn’t actually him I was listening to. “It’s sweet.”

  “Anyway. Call or text me later. Let me know what’s going on. I’m closing tonight since Missy’s not feeling well, so I’ll probably just head home. Unless you tell me otherwise. Talk to you later. Bye.”

  The message clicked off and instead of deleting it, I replayed it, letting his voice calm me.

  Hey, Sunshine.

  I miss you.

  I shouldn’t miss you yet.

  But I do.

  And how could I move away after that?

  CHAPTER 23

  Blake

  My cell phone rang just as I pressed send on a new produce order. I hoped it was Piper since she’d never called me back. My nerves had gotten the best of me, and I imagined that all kind of things had gone wrong.

  It had only been a day, but I didn’t know why she couldn’t call me or answer my texts. At this point, it was difficult for me to concentrate on anything, and it was Piper’s fault. I wished it was for a better reason than me being annoyed at her, but I tried to let it go as I picked my phone up.

  Mom flashed on the screen.

  And I became annoyed times two.

  I hadn’t talked to my mother in weeks. Avoidance was easier than dealing with all the anxiety and anger that came with the guilt trips, but if I let it go to voicemail too many times it would only be worse.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, darling.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I was calling about Sunday. Your sister informed me yesterday that you have a girlfriend. Is that true?”

  I scratched my eyebrow with my thumb. “Uh. Yeah.”

  “Why haven’t you said anything?”

  “I—”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to introduce her to your family?”

  “Well, I didn’t—”

  “Blake, I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from us. Especially one about a woman in your life. Tiffany said you seemed awfully . . . taken with this girl.”

  “Piper. Her name is Piper. And, yeah, I like her a lot.”

  Like was such a stupid word to use. I didn’t just like Piper.

  I adored her.

  I cherished her. Even when she didn’t call me back.

  I treasured, idolized, and worshipped her.

  I loved her. But the first time I said those words certainly wasn’t going to be to my mother.

  “Why don’t you bring this Piper to dinner?”

  I paused, thinking this through. If Piper was going to stay in my life, she’d have to meet my family eventually. But there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that it wouldn’t matter soon.

  “I’ll see if she’s available.”

  “Wonderful.” My mother’s voice dropped down an octave, telling the truth behind her dubious superlative. “I’m very interested to meet this girl after what your sister has told me.”

  “Okay,” I said, wrapping up the conversation. “I’ll let you know either way. Thanks.”

  “Bye-bye, darling.”

  As soon as I hung up, the sinking feeling in my stomach bottomed out as my mother’s words hit me.

  I’m very interested to meet this girl after what your sister has told me.

  My sister had only met Piper because she walked in on us about to have sex in my office. They were in each other’s presence for a minute, maybe two, at the most. What could Tiffany possibly have said to my mother?

  And what had made my mother say that sentence in that tone?

  I pushed away from my desk, checking the time. It was almost six o’clock on a Friday night, the beginning of the night, but I didn’t feel like sticking around any longer. Missy’s bug had turned out to only be a twenty-four-hour thing, and she was feeling better and already back behind the bar. Between her, Abe, and Lou, the newest bartender, they didn’t need me looking over their shoulders. Plus Darren had the kitchen covered.

  I grabbed my keys, waved good-bye to everyone, and ducked out with one destination in mind.

  When I rang the doorbell and no one answered, I figured Piper must be out back. I took the usual trek to the backyard to find the garage open, and I spied a flash of red through the doorway.

  Sticking my head in the door, I found Piper cleaning up some of her supplies in the utility sink while she had one of her brew kettles boiling and a cask being filled from a fermenter. She had time to brew but not to talk to me?

  As I watched her do three things at once, I imagined how much easier it would be when she had a staff and a bigger place. Something larger than a twenty-by-thirty garage. I wanted that for her. I wanted her to be successful, I wanted it more than I wanted it for myself. I could tell from her rounded posture that she was tired, and it made me feel bad for being so put out over a phone call.

  “Hey.”

  She jumped at the word and swung around, brandishing a filter as a weapon. Her eyes softened from their previously wide fright. “Jesus, you scared me.”

  “Sorry.” I stepped closer. “How’s everything going back here?”

  She shrugged. “The usual. Got another batch of the grisette cooking.”

  “How are you? You never got back to me.”

  “I know.”

  “How come? You don’t like me anymore?” I said jokingly, but it came out flat.

  “I was just so exhausted yesterday.”

  She barely met my eyes when she said that, and I didn’t like it. Whatever was bothering her had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. The eerie feeling from earlier while talking with my mom came back.

  I wanted to comfort her, but something was off between us. “So tell me what happened with Bob.”

  She took her time capping off the cask as she replayed the phone call. But she wasn’t as excited as I’d thought she’d be, and I didn’t understand why until she told me what he wanted—an equal partnership in the company.

  “Oh, wow.” It wasn’t unheard of or unreasonable to make this kind of deal. If Bob was backing this company, he’d want a stake in it. It made sense, but it also made me cringe. Out of the Bottle was Piper’s. Even though this would be a huge break, it would mean Piper giving up a piece of her dream. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling.

  “I know,” she said, correctly reading the tone of my reaction as she turned off the propane burner. “I told him I needed a few days to think about it.”

  “And that’s what you’ve been doing since yesterday?”

  She turned to me slowly, a heaviness to her face even though a smile peeked out. “Pretty much.”

  I had no words to make this decision any easier, and I didn’t want to flood her with any more apprehension, so I offered her my open arms. “Come here.”

  She walked into me, resting her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my waist. I held her tightly, kissed her head, and rubbed at the tension between her shoulder blades. We stood like that, breathing together, for a few moments.

  “Want to Netflix and chill?”

  “Yes, please,” she murmured against me.

  “Order in?”

  “Yeah, but first I have to shower. I’m all sweaty.”

  She didn’t tell me to follow her inside, but I did anyway, stalking behind just out of reach. She took the elastic band out of her hair, and her hair fell down her back as she reached the bathroom. She knew I was there, but acted as if I wasn’t, and suddenly I was the guest to a private show.

  I sat on the closed toilet lid, openly observing everything she did. She turned the water nozzle on and held her hand under the spout for a few seconds, testing the temperature.

  She took off her sneakers and tossed them to the side before removing her socks, all the while offering me the view of her ass. Next, she dragged her jeans off, revealing every inch of the creamy skin of her legs, and dropped them in the laundry basket. Then came the best part, because I loved it when she crossed her arms over her abdomen to leisure
ly pull her shirt over her head in the most provocative movement of all time.

  With a flick of her fingers, her bra was off, and in one quick swoop, her underwear hit the floor. I scarcely got a good look at her body as she carefully stepped into the bathtub with one hand on the wall before stepping behind the transparent plastic shower curtain.

  With a restraint I didn’t know I had, I tore my eyes away and cleared my head of all lewd thoughts. “So, I talked to my mom today.”

  “Yeah?” The snap of a bottle echoed in the room, followed by the sweet scent of her sun-ripened strawberry shampoo.

  “I have dinner with my parents on Sunday, and they want you to come.”

  “They do?”

  The surprise in her voice had me regretting my decision to not introduce her earlier. I didn’t want her to think they hadn’t wanted to meet her. “Yeah. My mom said she’s really interested to meet my girlfriend.”

  A few long seconds passed where I thought maybe she’d say no.

  The water turned off and the curtain flicked open to reveal my beautiful Piper in all of her naked glory. She gathered her hair up over her right shoulder and wrung it out as rivulets of water flowed down her arms, over her breasts, down her stomach.

  “Blake?”

  I lifted my eyes up to her face. “Huh? What?”

  “I said could you give me that towel, please?”

  “Oh. Yeah, yeah.” I handed her the green-and-pink towel. “I couldn’t . . .” I shook my head, refocusing, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she wrapped the plush cotton around her body, hiding all the good stuff from me.

  “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

  “I can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.”

  She grabbed a smaller towel from the rack and did some kind of magic trick to keep it on top of her head, and then treated me to the Piper Lotions Her Legs show.

  She rubbed the white lotion into her thighs and calves in circular motions, and I hummed, gaining a new appreciation for Bath & Body Works cucumber melon. “Do you want to go on Sunday? Dinner’s at six.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to finally meet the infamous Senator and Mrs. Reed.”

  I let out a relieved breath and followed her into her bedroom.

  “What am I supposed to wear?”

  Just as I was about to answer, she dropped her towel.

  “You look pretty outstanding naked.”

  She barked out a laugh, and finally began to look like herself. Her eyes sparked with trouble as color bloomed in her cheeks. She deliberately sashayed to me, entrancing me. I fell backwards onto the bed and reached out to her.

  “You smell so good,” I said, bringing my lips to her neck when she lay down next to me. I skimmed my hands up and down her body, feeling how tense she was. Knowing what was on her mind, I wanted her to relax.

  I nipped and licked at her until she moaned, and I was fully assured she was thinking of nothing else but this moment. I moved over her pink skin and bright eyes. I needed more of her.

  We slowly and tenderly kissed until we pushed the sheets from the bed and my clothes were off. On our sides, I caressed her leg, lifting it over my hip, aligning our bodies.

  Piper had gone on birth control, but we still always used condoms to be safe.

  “Piper.” I curved my palm around her jaw, sucking on her bottom lip. “We haven’t talked about it, but can we . . . ?

  “I need to feel you,” I said, skimming my hand from her jaw down her neck, over the slight curve of her breast, to her waist.

  She nodded. “I need to feel you, too.”

  She hitched her leg higher on my hip, opening herself up to me as I guided myself into her. I needed a moment to soak it all in. The way she felt, the way we moved together, how she looked—I wanted to remember all of it. There was nothing sweeter than her warm breath against my cheek, her heat pulsing around me, and her eyes staring into mine. This was everything. My past, my present, and my future. All in this woman.

  She closed her eyes and kissed me with a sigh. I did the same, losing myself in her body. I pressed my forehead to hers, rolling my hips slowly. Moving together and apart, we found this intimate, unhurried rhythm that was as torturous as it was heavenly. This was making love.

  When she kissed me, it was like she tried to breathe in my air. She stared into my eyes, serious and sort of sad. It felt a little like she was trying to take it all in, like it was our last time.

  But I could never give her up, not after this. Not ever.

  We found our high together, my body buzzing like an electrical current passed through me to her and back. By the time we came back down, we were both breathing hard, and I managed to peel myself away from her to look in her eyes.

  I wanted to say a million things, not the least of which was I love you, please don’t go, but I didn’t think it was right to ask her not to follow her dreams, or appropriate to bring it up now, just after we’d had sex. Quite possibly the best sex we’d ever had. The best sex anyone had ever had.

  I kissed her nose, grinning down at her. We were both flushed and sweaty and a bit of a mess. “Want another shower?”

  “Sure.” She propped herself up on her elbows, a tired smile twisting her lips. “But no funny business.”

  I stood, holding my hands up in innocence. “I make no promises.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Piper

  The following Sunday, I fretted for an hour over what to wear, changing into almost every outfit I owned before finally deciding on a funky purple-and-pink flowered dress that flared at my waist. It had a little bit of frill on the neckline and gave off an I’m-a-sweetheart vibe, which I thought was the goal when meeting the parents.

  I slipped on black flats and swiped on lip gloss before I headed downstairs to where Blake was laid out on the couch, one arm behind his head, the other draped over Leo.

  “Is this okay?” I asked him, twirling in a circle.

  “You look perfect.”

  “And look.” I shoved my hands into the dress. “It has pockets.”

  He playfully rolled his eyes at me. “Congratulations.”

  I tossed my light pink cardigan over my shoulder, because even though we were well on our way into summer, I wasn’t sure if spaghetti straps were appropriate for the Reed family dinner.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” I asked, looking down at my outfit.

  He stood up. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said with a kiss to my cheek. “My parents are . . .”

  He trailed off as he opened the front door, and I stepped outside before turning to him. “You parents are what?”

  “Assholes, I told you before. I know you’re nervous about meeting them, but I’d be surprised if they said more than a few sentences to you. I’m the black sheep, remember? I’m sure all of their attention will be on why I’m wearing shoes without laces.”

  I dragged my eyes down Blake’s long body, covered in a fitted button-down rolled to his elbows, slim light blue pants, and tan boat shoes, looking every bit the preppy boy he tended to cover up, and I laughed.

  He always knew exactly what to say to calm me down, and I rose up to kiss him.

  Blake kept his hand on my leg as we drove, only periodically removing it to change lanes on the highway or fix the air vents. We didn’t talk much, and the Iowa offer had a lot to do with it. I didn’t know if our reasons for avoiding it were the same, but I was thankful he didn’t press me on the issue. I needed to make this decision on my own. For right now, though, I was focused on making a good impression on his parents.

  I hadn’t grown up in the Twin Cities area, but I was aware of the St. Paul neighborhood Blake grew up in. It was where all the elite lived, in these grand old houses. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as we cruised down Summit Avenue.

  “Oh my God, look at that one.” I stretched my arm out of the window to point to the Old English–looking mansion
. “And that one.” The one with the balconies. “I want that one.” The gray stone house was a beauty.

  He laughed beside me. “How many millions do you have in savings?”

  “Think they’d take a down payment in beer?”

  “Doubt it.” We pulled into the breezeway of a grandiose redbrick mansion that seemed more suited for Victorian New England with its wraparound porch and peaked roof.

  My nerves ratcheted up. Blake’s family came from serious money, and I was suddenly more unsure of myself than I’d ever been. Would there be a lot of forks to choose from at dinner? Should I have worn a longer dress? What did I do when I met his family? Handshake? Kiss the ring?

  He took my hand as we walked up the forever-long sidewalk. The front door had one of those heavy knockers, and I was a teensy bit disappointed at its plain oval shape. A lion or some other ostentatious decoration would have suited the rest of the place. “Looks a bit like Richard and Emily’s house in Gilmore Girls, doesn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “I guess.”

  He rang the doorbell and a woman in a plain navy dress answered. She introduced herself as Sandra, and I was caught off-guard it wasn’t one of Blake’s parents ushering us inside. But then again with all this money, I should’ve expected they’d have someone working in their house.

  Gleaming hardwood floors and a Persian rug greeted me in the foyer, along with a tall grandfather clock and an exotic plant of a kind I’d never seen before.

  There were too many opulent decorations to look at all at once, but a marble table caught my attention. It had a little gold antique trinket on it, next to a framed black-and-white photo of a couple, I assumed from a few generations ago. Old money, for sure.

  There were more corridors than in a Scooby Doo cartoon, and I wondered if maybe a ghost or two had made a home here. There had to be at least thirty different rooms in this house if the number of doors in this wing was any indication.

  Sandra led us to a room with a chimney and elegant picture windows. It smelled like citrus furniture polish, exactly what I assumed a picture from a design magazine would smell like in real life.