Whiskey (Brewed Book 2)

by Molly McAdams

  His jaw hardened, the muscle there twitching.

  I wasn’t even sure what had happened with Madison. One day she was here, planning out her future with Hunter and sneaking out of his room before the town woke, the way she’d done forever. The next, she was gone, chasing bigger cities and opportunities.

  I’d known Hunter had tried to bring her back. Known he’d gone after her a couple times before enlisting—not that he’d ever said where she went. He’d also never spoken about how his attempts had gone when he’d come back.

  This was the most he’d talked about her—with me, at least—since she’d left.

  “Then when it came time to choose between coming back for the family or staying in the military, what made me hesitate the most was the fact that leaving the military would destroy my relationship with Piper.” A sound between a scoff and a sneer left him when he glanced my way. “Decision came easier when I found out there was only one reason she was with me.”

  “I already told you I’m going back, Hunter.”

  “But you’re hesitating.” The words were full of meaning, knowing, as if he were positive I would follow in his footsteps. “If I’d never tried to change my life and my dream for Madison, I might’ve been able to prevent Dad from doing most of the shit he did to the business. I would’ve already been here. The fact that I almost let Piper stop me from coming back when I knew this ranch and the family were most important?” His head slanted in the beginnings of a shake. “She wouldn’t have been worth it—clearly. Leaving the ranch in the first place to try to get Madison back wasn’t worth it.”

  “You’re so fucking bitter, man,” I said quietly. A huff fell past my lips. “I thought I was the bitter one.”

  “Before Rae came along, pretty sure that title belonged to Sawyer.”

  The next breath that left me bordered on a dejected laugh. “Our family is so fucked up.”

  “Yep.”

  “Funny how no one else seems to realize it.”

  A grunt rumbled in Hunter’s throat. “Saw’s more than aware of it. Bet the ranch that Beau is too.”

  “I meant the town,” I said soberly. “Came back and was immediately flooded with date and marriage requests like they didn’t have a clue what kinda bullshit they were trying to attach themselves to.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth as he slipped his hands into his pockets again, looking more at ease than he had in the past minutes. “That would be why I only go into town when I need to.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’m surprised they don’t just show up here though.”

  “They do,” he said with a hint of amusement and irritation. “I hide.”

  A shocked laugh burst from me as I pictured him hiding from over-eager women. But my own pain and bitterness stirred, grabbing my attention and reminding me why we were out here.

  Why we were talking about this at all.

  “I’m going back,” I repeated, head shaking a bit as I did. “I’m going back because I have to. But the only people there I can trust anymore are my crew. Gabriela’s living in our house with him, and I’m not gonna force her to find a new place when she’s pregnant. And Beaumont just feels . . . I don’t know.”

  “Like it isn’t home anymore,” he offered in understanding.

  “Yeah.” The word was a relieved breath. As if being able to understand what I’d been feeling helped ease some of the frustration and unknowns for the future. “Emberly . . . it’s killing me. And for a hundred reasons revolving around her, I don’t want to leave. But even if I knew I was never going to speak to her again, I still wouldn’t want to go because Beaumont isn’t the same as it was just two weeks ago.”

  He nodded for a while before saying, “Been there. So, when do you leave?”

  “Jesus.” I rubbed at the back of my neck as the corner of my mouth quirked up in frustration. “Been here a little over a day, and you’re hinting real hard that I’ve already overstayed.”

  “Not.” He held up his hands in apology before folding his arms over his chest. “Just wondering if you’re gonna help me with Amber Fest before heading out, or if you’re sticking around for a while.”

  I went still at the mention of Amber Fest.

  At the possibility of seeing Emberly.

  As white-hot pain slashed through my chest. Stealing my breath and giving me a taste of the agony I’d endured when Emberly had torn out my heart, leaving an aching void in its place.

  As far as everyone else knew, I’d left. This was one of the only Saturdays in the year that Mom and Sawyer—and I guess Rae now—didn’t come to the ranch to spend the morning with Hunter. They were all too busy helping out the town with Amber Fest.

  I’d been thankful.

  Because Sawyer and Rae knowing I was here meant Emberly would know. And I didn’t think I could handle her continued silence and rejection if she knew I was still in Amber.

  “Uh, I . . .” I swallowed past the barbed knot in my throat. “I was thinking of heading down a few days before I’m due on the rig. Get the rest of my stuff out of the house. Take Gabriela to the bank so we can start the process of getting my name off the loan. But I don’t know about Amber Fest. I can’t . . . I just can’t see her and pretend I’m fine.”

  He grunted. “Where are you gonna live in Beaumont?”

  “I don’t know.” That weight I thought had eased now seemed heavier than before as I thought about finding somewhere to live.

  Not just a new place, but a new place there.

  A city without my mentor. A city where most of my “friends” had no reservations about hiding that the person I was sharing my life with was doing the same with someone else. A city where I was no longer going to be raising my daughter.

  “I can leave earlier, or I’ll start searching for a place while I’m still here,” I finally said.

  Another grunt before he pushed from the pillar. “Here’s the deal: Beaumont’s, what, three-and-a-half hours away? Four?”

  “Yeah, about,” I answered hesitantly, unsure of where he was going with this. “I didn’t come directly here, I just drove for a while.”

  “Not the worst drive,” he said with a little shrug. “You make it through Amber Fest . . . make it through seeing Emberly . . . you can live here the weeks you’re not on the rig.”

  A bemused breath fled from me. “Here—where, at the ranch?” When he just continued watching me, I asked, “What the hell do Amber Fest and Emberly have to do with living here?”

  “You aren’t gonna be able to live here and hide from her, even if you do hide away on the property most of the time. She would know you were here. Eventually, you would go into town. And if you can’t get through Amber Fest when everything is still fresh and you’re hurting . . .” His stare fell to the side and everything about his demeanor fell with it. “Well, you won’t be able to handle when she moves on.”

  Madison . . .

  I wanted to ask what had happened, what he had seen, but he cleared his throat and continued.

  “And I’m not gonna be the one who lets you come back only to let you bolt again.”

  “Understood.”

  “Unless you think something’s gonna change, unless you think you’re gonna get back south and realize you are home,” he said cautiously. “If not, you’re welcome here. If you get through—”

  “Amber Fest,” I said over him, nodding. “I got it.”

  He clapped my shoulder on his way back into the house, stopping when he got to the screen door to say, “I gotta start loading up in an hour and a half. If you’re in the kitchen then, I’ll take that as your agreement to help and stay.”

  “Why do you want me to?” I asked before he could leave, and turned to see him already in the house, holding the door open. “You told me she wouldn’t be worth it, but you’re telling me to stay.”

  “I’m not going back on any of that. I’m telling you to keep your job. I’m giving you a place to stay because I know what it’s like to no longer know the place y
ou’re living in or the people you’re living with.”

  “You also won’t let Sawyer in on the ranch, but you’re—”

  “Because he doesn’t know,” he said, stopping me. “You know better than I do that he wouldn’t understand. I don’t have to try to make you understand when you lived it.”

  After a few seconds, I nodded.

  “Be in the kitchen, or don’t.”

  It seemed so easy, taking him up on his offer.

  Not having to find a new place in Beaumont. Not having to deal with a city I didn’t know how to be in anymore. Working with my crew and then coming straight here from Port Arthur.

  Easy.

  But then I thought about that girl . . . and the way I couldn’t seem to find my breath made it anything but easy.

  “Emberly.”

  I sucked in a shuddering breath and tried to steel my features before I turned to face the man that came with that voice.

  When I responded, my voice was polite and causal enough, but had an underlying bite to it, warning him not to mess with me today. “Hi, Brady.”

  From his slow nod and the lift of his brows, I was pretty sure he got the message.

  “How was your birthday?”

  Miserable.

  Worst ever.

  I’d spent nearly the entire day crying while clutching precious balloons with the Dixie Chicks blasting loud enough to be heard on the street until Sawyer and Rae came over. Forcing me to shower and be sociable.

  Taking me to my favorite hidden gem of a restaurant in the next town over where a bunch of our friends had been waiting.

  When we’d finally gotten back to my house, Rae had sat on the bedroom floor with me. Letting me talk about every one of the balloons before popping them so I wouldn’t turn into a crazy balloon lady.

  But it was: “Fine.”

  Brady’s forehead creased with concern. “You sure about that?”

  “Of course I am.”

  He lifted a hand in what looked like apology and defense. “It’s just . . . you usually go on an excited, bubbly rant about your birthday.” His expression fell, his lips forming a thin line. “Look, if this is because of what I did, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it at all,” I snapped and tried to find some thread of peace before continuing. “Whether or not this has anything to do with what happened doesn’t matter. I don’t owe you, or anyone, details of my life.”

  “So, you’re just gonna stop talking to me? Shut me out?”

  “Right now, I kinda want to shut the world out, but I can’t.” I took a breath. And then another. “Let me get through this festival so I can do that.”

  He leaned closer, the plea practically dripping from him when he asked, “What happened?”

  “Brady,” I said in warning as I turned, heading for more of what was needed for our Amber Fest booths.

  “This isn’t you, Emberly, this isn’t us.”

  “There is no us,” I ground out and whirled on him, stepping close so I could lower my voice. “I’m sorry, Brady. I’m sorry that you somehow deluded yourself into thinking that there was or would be. But the way you explained me? That’s how I am with everyone, and you should’ve known that. You should’ve seen that. And it isn’t my fault that you didn’t.”

  “Emberly—”

  “No, I’m still talking!” I cried out when his expression and tone screamed that he was about to explain again why he thought we were supposed to be together. “Every extra shift I gave you, and every closing shift we worked together, was because you asked for them.” I pressed a hand against my chest, a frustrated laugh bubbling up from me. “I’m always here, I’ll close with anyone.”

  His mouth had formed that firm line again, his eyes hardening as he watched me. As he silently begged me not to continue.

  But he needed to hear this, even if it hurt.

  “I also try to split my time equally between the sides of the shop. Considering the bar opens seven hours after the café, most of my time there is when you’re behind the bar. But I think you know that because you chose your shifts. I’m not choosing to be there simply because you are.”

  He glanced away, his embarrassment and pain and frustration a living thing between us when he met my stare again.

  “Brady, you are a good guy and you are a fantastic employee. But if you’re working for me to be with me, then you’re here for the wrong reason. If you want to stay here, you need to get past this whole we-have-a-deeper-connection thing, because we don’t and we won’t. And working together is only going to get more uncomfortable.”

  His silence continued as he watched me, seeming to wait to see if I would continue. When he realized I wouldn’t, he gave a hard nod and stepped around me, heading toward the remaining cases of liquor for the festival.

  Grabbing one, he turned and started outside without a word.

  As soon as he was gone, I sagged against the wall and dropped my head back. The weighted breath had barely escaped my lungs when Jennifer’s voice had me pushing away and straightening.

  “Whew! Did you see that?” she called out, eyes bright with the promise of gossip. “Brady looked pissed.”

  “Oh. Yeah, he’ll be fine. We’re all just busy.”

  “Right,” she said brightly, mind jumping tracks in a heartbeat as she handed over my binder. “I just finished checking the café’s booth, and I’m pretty sure this is the best booth we’ve ever had. Espresso machines, portable refrigerators, and ice keepers are running flawlessly.”

  “Fully stocked?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What did you think about the placement of the chalkboard sign?” I asked uncertainly. “And the one on the bar’s booth?”

  “Perfect,” she assured. “I actually mentioned that when I was out there.”

  I made an acknowledging sound in my throat as I opened up the binder again to scan the checklist for both booths.

  If Jennifer said it, I believed her. If she’d hated it, she would’ve changed it herself before telling me she hadn’t liked it.

  “The beer garden’s been checked. I just took out all the specialty ingredients for the bar,” I mumbled mostly to myself as I looked at what remained. “We just have these last two cases of liquor, and then we’re ready to go.”

  “Let’s do it, boss,” she said, all kinds of energetic as she practically bounced past me to grab one.

  I wondered if that was how people normally saw me.

  Today, in the wake of my greatest heartbreak—even if self-inflicted—I wondered how anyone could be that happy.

  With the last case in hand, I led the way out of Brewed. Not really sure what I was doing or what I was seeing or why I was here until my gaze caught on the illusion across the street and down a few shops.

  Even hallucinating, seeing him slayed me.

  Stole my breath.

  Made me want to curl into a ball and hide away.

  I stumbled forward when Jennifer bumped into me from behind, mumbling curses and apologies I struggled to understand when all I could see was him.

  “Oh,” she said in a playful, knowing voice, drawing out the word as she nudged my hip. “There’s your man.”

  My stomach dropped. Just dropped.

  Everything snapped with such vivid clarity at the exact moment I realized she was speaking to me about him . . . that Cayson was really there.

  “What?” It came out on a breath. A pained denial.

  Because he’d left.

  Sawyer and Rae had confirmed it.

  And then he turned, just a glance of his surroundings before catching sight of me. His body tensed. The agony and anger that burst from him reached me in a second and nearly knocked me to my knees.

  Oh God.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

  I fumbled for the case as it slipped from my fingers, a strangled curse escaping me just as someone appeared in front of me in time to catch it.

 
I shakily looked up at Brady, at the worry and hurt painted across his features, before my attention snapped back to Cayson in time to see him turn away.

  Hunter appeared beside him for a second before vanishing, and it was then I realized where he was standing. The Dixon’s booth.

  “I got it,” Brady said gently. “Emberly, I’ve got it.”

  I forced myself to look at the man in front of me, confusion swirling until I felt the slightest tug on the box I was awkwardly attempting to hold onto.

  Some kind of embarrassed apology fell from my tongue as I released my hold. Even though I could feel his and Jennifer’s questioning stares, I couldn’t stop from looking across the street again.

  Wondering if Cayson had left at all or if he’d gone straight to Hunter’s. If Gabriela had asked him to come back yet. If he was okay . . .

  If he was wrecked.

  Shattered.

  Or if I’d given him the out he hadn’t realized he needed.

  “Em?”

  The worry and alarm in Jennifer’s voice had my gaze searching out hers, where she’d moved in front of me. “Yeah?”

  She glanced at Brady, looking all kinds of nervous and unsure even though he didn’t take his eyes off me. When she spoke again, her voice was so, so soft. “Emberly, you’re crying.”

  I dropped my head to stare at the concrete beneath me, stumbling a little in my attempt to get away from their watchful eyes. “Um . . .” I shook my head a little too quickly. “Um, I’m—I’ll be back.”

  “Emberly,” she called out when I hurried into Brewed, but I didn’t stop until I was in my office and bent over my desk.

  Chest heaving with broken breaths as if I’d just finished a race.

  My eyelids shut on a curse and my shoulders caved when footsteps sounded in the hall not long after.

  I didn’t have the strength to go through this again.

  “Not the time, Brady,” I groaned when they neared.

  “Try again.”

  My head snapped up at his voice, a handful of emotions building and clashing within me when he rounded the door and stepped into my office.

  Every one of them negative.