Any Luck at All: Asheville Brewing #1

by Denise Grover Swank

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “You might want to go through them yourself to make sure there’s nothing you want in there. One of them had a bunch of burst bottles of shampoo or something inside, so I didn’t poke around too much.”

  “I’m feeling impulsive,” she said. “Let’s throw them away. Boston is done.”

  The finality with which she said it surprised him, and it rubbed him the wrong way a little. Like someday she might say that about Asheville and her chapter at Buchanan Brewery. About him.

  But his mind was running away from him again, and the excitement shining in her eyes was infectious, so he opened the back seat and pulled out one of the bags, the green one, its plastic corpse jutting out in jagged angles.

  “Let’s do it,” he said.

  She grabbed the other bag, and they hauled them to the dumpster, which smelled like hot garbage always smelled, except maybe riper. Like it had been left to ferment. Of course, River wasn’t sure he smelled a whole lot better. Smoke and sickly sweet punch did not make for a good combination, but it hadn’t repulsed Georgie yet.

  “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” she said, laughing a little as they came to a stop in front of it. “That smell is wilting my sails.”

  “No,” he said as he set down the green bag on a clean patch of concrete. “We have to do it now. We’ve come too far.” Scrunching his nose dramatically, he lifted the lid of the dumpster and flipped it open.

  The smell instantly became ten times worse.

  Georgie shoved the bag in her hands at him. “I think you should do the gentlemanly thing.”

  “I opened the dumpster, didn’t I?” he said, but he took it from her anyway, hefting it up and in. It landed with a squishing sound, sending up another waft of stink.

  “Hurry,” Georgie said, lifting the green bag and handing it to him, “here’s the other.”

  He hefted that one in too, and it landed on the first. But before he could close the lid of the dumpster, a foot-long rat scurried out of the opening, almost running across his hand.

  He jumped back, making a sound of alarm—his ego prevented him from thinking of it as a scream—and Georgie did the same. They hurried toward his building without shutting the dumpster, running as fast as if the rat were chasing them, and when they got to his doorstep they exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

  “Did that feel as inspirational to you as it did to me?” he asked.

  “You bet,” she said as he got out his key, glancing back to make sure the rat hadn’t actually followed them, “but we’re both going to need to wash our hands at least twenty times before I let you touch me.”

  “Deal.” He turned the key in the lock, his mouth ticking up at the thought that surfaced. “Good thing I don’t need to touch you to kiss you.”

  Opening the door, he leaned in to do just that, his lips finding Georgie’s as they stumbled into the loft together. He instantly felt the energy, the connection he always felt with her.

  Except Maisie was sitting at the table with a couple of takeout bags, and Hops ran up to him with a frantically wagging tail and started to sniff his pants in an overly interested way that confirmed he very much needed a shower. As soon as possible.

  He pulled away from Georgie, mood deflated by Maisie’s sour, disapproving expression as much as by the fact that she had clearly ignored his message. What was it with his friends today? Why did everyone but his aunt want to stand in his way?

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Maisie said in an airy tone that probably didn’t convince Georgie and certainly didn’t convince River.

  “Didn’t you get my message?” he asked. He studiously ignored Hops, who had started licking his shoe.

  “Well, yes, plus about ten texts from Finn. And Beau’s neighbors have started a group on Nextdoor for citizens concerned about Jezebel’s escape.”

  Which was exactly why he’d made a point of turning off his phone earlier. He didn’t want to deal with any of that tonight, or ever really.

  He shot an apologetic look at Georgie. She smiled at him, but this wasn’t her natural, warm smile. She was struggling for this one. Plus, she was clearly embarrassed they’d been caught. Again.

  “I told you I’d go into all of the gory details tomorrow, Maisie. Georgie and I have had a long night, and we’re both tired.”

  Maisie gave him a look that said she knew exactly what tired was code for. “I know, which is why I brought you takeout. Surely you’re both hungry after your ordeal.”

  He glanced at Georgie again. “Hey,” he said, “you want to go wash your hands in the bathroom? I’ll use the sink out here.”

  He could have invited her to take a shower, but he still hoped to do that with her. And he also didn’t want to embarrass her in front of Maisie.

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” she said. “Nice to see you again, Maisie.” Then she took off almost as fast as they’d retreated from that rat. It wouldn’t take her long to wash her hands, but from the look in her eyes she knew what he really wanted—a moment to convince Maisie to leave, or to shove her out the door if she wouldn’t go peacefully. She’d give him the time he needed.

  River headed to the kitchen sink and washed his hands thoroughly before stooping to pick up Hops—still going at his shoes—and carrying him over to the table.

  “What gives?” he asked. “I get that you and Finn don’t approve, but I’m not some lost puppy or project. Not anymore. You guys don’t get to decide for me. I’ve finally met someone I like—really like—and it feels like everyone keeps thinking of reasons I shouldn’t be happy.”

  Her stubborn expression slipped, and a stricken look took its place. Almost as if she was on the verge of crying, and Maisie hardly ever cried. Even after she lost her parents. Shit, maybe he’d been too harsh.

  He softened his tone and said, “Look, I’m sorry about the computer, and if you’re up for it, we can go computer shopping at lunch tomorrow, and I’ll tell you the whole sordid story. But I need to be alone with Georgie tonight. I’m asking you to understand.”

  “River,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm, “I do understand. I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re clearly in this, but is she?”

  He smiled, looking down at Hops because he didn’t want Maisie to see his eyes. He felt the vulnerability there. The doubt. “I guess I aim to find out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Georgie washed her hands for long enough that she likely would have been clean enough to perform surgery, yet she still wasn’t ready to leave the bathroom. Not while River was dealing with his friend.

  Other than Dottie, it seemed like everyone in his life hated her. Or at least the important people. First Finn, now Maisie. Except she supposed Maisie had shown her disapproval first. Georgie couldn’t help thinking Maisie disliked her because she herself was in love with River. But even so…

  Josie would have taken it for a bad sign, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something to that. It didn’t help matters any to know that at least two of her three siblings would have a coronary if they knew what she was up to.

  Georgie sat down on the toilet lid, surprised when tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t much of a crier—her father had made sure of that—but damned if this didn’t sting. The connection she felt with River was so much stronger, so much more alive than anything she’d experienced with another man. Her body flushed just thinking about the electricity in his touch. Had she ever blushed more than in the last few days? But with so many people against them…

  One night. Just one night. You owe it to yourself.

  She was a logical person, though, most of the time, and she knew it would be so much harder to resist him if they slept together. Once she walked through that door, could she really walk back out?

  Would she want to?

  But Georgie Buchanan had a resolve of steel when the situation required it. She knew she could resist him. Was the same true for him?

  She got u
p and opened the bathroom door, deciding that while the discussion between River and Maisie was very much between them, it would be cowardly for her to keep hanging out in the bathroom. Steeling her back, she headed down the hall to the living room, prepared for Maisie’s icy glare, but all she found was River holding Hops in the middle of the room, staring at the closed front door.

  He turned to look at her, his eyes troubled, and guilt quickly slid into her head. The last thing she wanted to do was come between him and his friends, even though she had a pretty strong suspicion he and Maisie were not on the same page. It wasn’t her place to say so.

  “River…”

  He set the puppy down and walked toward her. “Georgie. If you changed your mind, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. After Maisie and Finn, I can’t say I would blame you.”

  “They’re your friends. They’re worried about you.”

  A wry grin twisted his mouth. “They like to butt themselves into my business.”

  “Because they care about you.” Her heart tightened, and she found herself saying, “I wish I had friends like yours.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Are you drunk? Did Lurch’s Pee Brew take an hour to kick in?”

  She smiled up at him, lifting her hands to rest on his shoulders, and flutters filled her stomach. “My friends in high school weren’t the lifelong type, you know? And my college friends too. Let’s just say that I became so focused on Moon Goddess, I let a lot of my friendships die. The few I have aren’t that close.”

  Why was she telling him this? She was making herself sound like a driven asshole, but then again, maybe it was good he knew the truth. Maybe it would help him realize they really could only press pause on reality for so long. He had commitment issues, apparently, and she was too committed to work. A nonstarter.

  “I didn’t make Moon Goddess what it was without personal sacrifice,” she continued. “Buchanan Brewery will likely be the same way.”

  He studied her for a moment. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me. That after tonight you’re going to be so driven you won’t have time to see me?” His eyes twinkled a little. “I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other—in a professional capacity—but I understand the rules, Georgie, and I respect them. What happens tonight won’t have anything to do with our working relationship. We’re both grown-ups. We can set boundaries.”

  “I’m a fair boss, but sometimes I’m—”

  He kissed her lightly. “No work talk.”

  “But I just want—”

  He kissed her again, letting it linger this time, sending shivers all the way to her toes. “We’ll compartmentalize. Tomorrow you’ll be the boss and I’ll be the employee, but tonight…” He kissed her again, slowly slipping his arm around her back and pulling her closer so her body was flush with his. This kiss wasn’t as fiery as the one behind the house, but it was full of seduction and promise. “Tonight, it’s just the two of us, River and Georgie, two people who find each other irresistible.”

  The puppy yipped at Georgie’s foot, tugging on her shoelace.

  She laughed. “You mean the three of us.”

  River made a face as she glanced down at the interloper.

  “Do you need to take him out?” she asked.

  “No, Maisie did before we got home. Let me put him in his kennel with a chew stick and his sandal, and he’ll be sufficiently entertained.”

  “Okay,” she said, bending down to pick up the fluffball. “Good thing he’s so cute.”

  She glanced at him and caught him looking at the two of them as if he wanted to memorize the image.

  He took the puppy from her and headed into the kitchen. Georgie suddenly felt awkward. Should she wait for him here? She still needed a shower. Would it be best to take one now? Or maybe wait and ask him to join her?

  Her past relationships had been different, more perfunctory. Men who had required little from her yet failed to hold her interest. Men her father and brother would have approved of—if they could be bothered to meet any of them.

  Was that why she was so attracted to River? Because he was everything her father and Lee would object to? Was this an act of rebellion?

  But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true.

  He returned and frowned when he glanced at her face. “Having second thoughts?”

  Was she? Her head was starting to protest again, but her heart—and her body—needed this. She needed to know that there could be heat and passion. That she could feel.

  She slowly shook her head.

  “It just occurred to me that you never ate,” he said. “Are you hungry? Maisie got—”

  It was her turn to quiet him, closing the distance between them and placing the tip of her finger on his lips.

  “The only thing I’m hungry for is you,” she whispered.

  River’s dark eyes turned even darker. He lightly kissed her fingertip, and then his tongue darted out, barely touching her skin, sending a bolt of heat down to her core.

  Releasing a soft moan, she slid her hand down his neck to his chest.

  He wove his hand into her hair and kissed her deeply.

  She melted into him, needing to be closer, needing more. Her fingers spread across his chest, feeling the hard muscles she’d gaped at when he’d changed his shirt on Friday, and now that she had that image in her head, she wanted to see them again. She wanted to know the feel of him without any barrier between their skin.

  Reaching for the hem of his shirt, she tugged up, and River quickly caught on, taking a moment to pull it over his head and toss it onto the floor.

  He leaned over to kiss her again, but she backed up a step, giving him a sexy grin. “Let me look first. I’ve been thinking about your chest since you ripped your shirt off in the tasting room. I might or might not have peeked earlier too.”

  His eyes hooded as his breath hitched. “And I’ve been thinking about those sexy bras and panties spread all over Flint Street.” Then he added with a shake of his head, “About them on you. Not on the street.”

  She laughed, loving that she knew he wouldn’t be offended, that he was laughing with her…and she stripped off her own shirt to reveal the lacy navy-blue bra underneath.

  “God, Georgie. You’re even more beautiful than I’d imagined.”

  Her own breath caught, realizing that no man had ever told her that before and meant it. She could tell he did. Would she really be able to walk away from him and go back to business as usual? She wasn’t sure, but she had two options: stop things right now or see this through, and now that she’d had a taste of this, she wasn’t stopping.

  “Let’s shower together,” she said. The thought of him wet and naked, his skin slick against hers, made her knees shake.

  He grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because I intend on learning every inch of your body.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The first thing River did when he woke up was reach for her. He could still taste her, could still feel her moving against him. It had never been like this with anyone else—it was almost as if they’d anticipated each other’s movements, as if they were perfectly in sync. They’d moved seamlessly from the shower to the bed, and there’d been no first-time awkwardness (or second or third time). He hoped to hell she would consider a quick round four since it was still sort of, kind of dark outside.

  But he didn’t feel the curve of her next to him anymore, didn’t hear her soft breathing or smell the shampoo she’d used in the shower. That meant she’d been gone a while.

  A hollowness formed in his chest, a familiar ache that made it no less painful. The pain of being left.

  You idiot. You knew the deal.

  Yes, and he’d known it would feel like this, but he’d decided it was worth it. And it was—or rather it had been—but knowing her in that way had made him want her more. Of course it had.

  He turned to look at the empty pillow next to him and saw a crisply folded note.


  His mouth ticked upward just a little as he opened the paper and saw the embossed monogram.

  I’m sorry I left, River, but I thought it would be easier this way. Last night was—

  The pen trailed a little, as if she’d thought about writing something different but had changed her mind.

  —amazing. But it’s time to put it in that box we talked about. We didn’t discuss your usual hours yet, given it certainly qualifies as work talk, but I’d appreciate it if you’d come at 9. We have a lot to discuss.

  As a love letter, it left a little to be desired, but he found himself smiling. Because it was so Georgie, and because he hadn’t totally given up, not really. He hoped they’d find a way. Because two people who fit like this?

  It was kismet. And that didn’t come along more than once in a lifetime.

  When River turned on his phone, twenty notifications instantly popped up.

  He took a fortifying sip of coffee before he started scrolling through them. The majority were from unknown numbers, but he’d received a text from Maisie at 5:30 a.m.

  Either puke bugs are transferable between dogs and humans, or you should consider this a retroactive warning about the food I brought over tonight. I won’t be able to do lunch. You’ll have to give me the crazy story later, although the accounts on Nextdoor really do paint a picture. ;-)

  Huh. Maisie sounded like herself, not like she was pissed or anything, but what was the likelihood she’d come down with a bug the same night he threw her out of his apartment? He and Georgie had eaten the takeout Chinese sometime around midnight, and his stomach still felt fine.

  He couldn’t shake the thought that Maisie was upset he hadn’t followed her advice about Georgie. But he didn’t want to make assumptions.

  I’ll check in later, he responded. See if you need some soup.

  Her only response was the yacking emoji.

  Sorry you’re sick, he added, and sorry about last night. I hate that we don’t see eye to eye on this.