Who Rescued Who

by Victoria Schade

  “Whoa!” Elizabeth said. “Look who’s boss!”

  “Yeah, that’s happened a few times. Total role reversal. Porter is acting like a lovesick dope, and she’s acting like the grown-up. Let’s get them outside for a potty trip and then go. I’m starving.”

  “Wait, you mean we’re not going to stay here and play with them all night?”

  “We’ll have plenty of time for that.” He paused. “Well, for a few weeks at least.”

  It was his first long-distance wisecrack of the evening. Elizabeth wondered how many times it would come up throughout their date.

  “Besides, she’s exhausted. Porter and I ran her ragged. Look,” James said, trying to change the subject.

  Amber was splayed on her side, pawing Porter’s nose as he tried to entice her to play.

  “Let’s have a quick dinner and finish the night here,” Elizabeth said before she realized what she was implying.

  The Blue Boar gastropub was nearly empty when James and Elizabeth arrived. The two men sitting at a table turned to stare at them when they walked in, then went back to ignoring one another in favor of the television.

  “I’m sorry that we’re mixing business and pleasure,” James said as he led her in. “I promise the food here is amazing. It’ll be a good night.”

  Elizabeth didn’t mind that James was piggybacking a customer service visit on their evening. The Blue Boar had finally taken on two of Lost Dog’s beers after months of James’s wooing, and he was checking in to see how they were performing on what was sure to be a busy night. She was eager to see him in action.

  The gastropub wasn’t ancient and quaint like the Three Tups. It had a soaring tin ceiling, chalkboards with impressive lettering describing the day’s specials, and a showstopping rough-hewn wooden bar that ran the length of the room.

  “I’m afraid we have to sit at the bar,” he said quietly. “I can pick up more that way. And I’ll need your eyes and ears as well.”

  The flat-capped bartender smiled widely when he spotted James and reached out his hand. “Welcome back, good to see you, mate! Checking up on us, eh?”

  “Not at all, just a friendly visit for a bite. Rory, this is Bess.”

  Rory gave her a once-over, his eyes lingering on her short floral skirt. “So nice to meet James’s lady. I can tell already you’re far too good for him.”

  “Oh, I’m not . . . we’re just . . .” Elizabeth wasn’t sure exactly what they were.

  “Bess has relatives in Fargrove, but she lives in the States. She’s heading back soon.”

  Two mentions.

  “Well, I hope you’ll have fun while you’re here.” Rory winked at her. “Now, what are you having?”

  She squinted at the tap handles down the bar. “Do I see the new saison on tap? I’ll have that, please.”

  “A fine Lost Dog Sealyham Saison for the lady. And for you, sir?”

  “The same.” James turned to her with a huge smile. “You remembered. I mentioned the saison to you at the Tups and you remembered.”

  “That’s basically all I remember. So about that night . . .”

  “Yes, that night. All in good time.” He winked at her.

  Rory pulled their beers and chatted with James, and as they talked Elizabeth began to understand just how important the social aspect was to his job. The deal was officially closed—the Blue Boar already had his beers on tap—but to keep the orders coming he had to make the staff like him and the liquids he represented, so that when someone asked them to suggest an ale, a Lost Dog would be the first to come to mind.

  She didn’t mind letting him work. She understood a strong work ethic far better than most. James was driven and proud of his product, and after watching him finesse Rory and his cohort behind the bar, it was clear he was very good at what he did. Too good, as Rory wouldn’t leave them alone. But when the bar started to fill, Rory had to get to work and they were finally able to focus on each other.

  “Do you do events for the brewery?” Elizabeth asked him.

  “Sure, we do, loads of them. Trivia nights are popular, of course. Sometimes we’ll do tap takeovers at new accounts to introduce our stuff. Support local band launches, that sort of thing.”

  “Have you done any at the brewery?”

  “Never. Why do you ask?”

  “I was just brainstorming while you guys were talking. The most popular events at my old job were the ones held on campus, because people loved seeing behind the curtain. I just thought it could be cool for you guys to do the same thing. Invite your fans and favorite clients so they can see the heart that goes into the Lost Dog label.”

  “We’re not really set up for that sort of thing. We’ve got a tidy spot, but it’s not consumer ready. Where would everyone pee?” He was staring into space with a frown as if envisioning hordes of people urinating in front of him.

  “Outdoor loos for hire, like at Rowan’s party. You could try it once and see how it goes. If it’s terrible, then don’t do it again. But I think it would be a great way to build loyalty, James. Tours, tastings, sell a bunch of T-shirts. Create your own hashtag for social media stuff.” She shrugged and sipped her beer.

  “Hm. I’ll bring it up with the team. But I promise we’re done with beer talk for the night, okay? It’s bad enough I dragged you here on a work call. You must think I’m the most boring person in the world.”

  “Business is never boring. I love it. I live for it.”

  He grimaced. “That’s sort of sad, Bess. Business? There’s got to be something else that you love and live for. What are you going home to? What do you miss about San Francisco?” He traced the condensation on the side of the glass. “Or should I say, who do you miss?”

  The weight of the question after talk of firkins and casks and a brewer’s true vision caught her off guard. Then the realization that she didn’t know how to answer it made her tongue-tied.

  “Well, obviously I’m excited to get back to work. I’ve been working while I was here, of course, but it wasn’t exactly in my area of expertise.”

  James nodded thoughtfully, still manipulating the glass in front of him. “So that’s all you’re excited for? Work? No friends, family, pets, boyfriends?”

  She started to switch into spin mode, but for the first time ever she opted for honesty. “My work didn’t really give me much time for friends,” she said softly. “Or boyfriends.” She gave him a meaningful look and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as if gauging her truthfulness. “And as for family . . . well, all that’s left is what’s here. My mother died when I was twelve, and my father died six months ago. No siblings.”

  He turned to her, sympathy etched into his face. “I’m so sorry, Bess. You must still be grieving. Losing a parent . . . losing both parents . . .” He trailed off and shook his head, then reached over and rubbed her back. It was so comforting, so genuine. Elizabeth couldn’t remember anyone touching her that way as she dealt with losing her parents.

  “My mom passing, yeah, it was awful. Right when I needed her, right when all that adolescent girl stuff started happening. I was so mad at her.” She smiled and tried to play it off but couldn’t control the telltale prickle in her nose. She focused on the two barmen stacking glasses.

  “And your father? How’s . . . that going? I mean, how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered quickly. “We weren’t close. Not at all. He never even told me about Fargrove. I didn’t know Rowan and Trudy existed, so that should give you some idea as to what I was dealing with. But I’ve learned more about him while I’ve been here. It’s given me a new perspective on him, I guess.”

  “That sounds like . . . what’s that word? Closure?”

  “Sort of, yes. I see him differently now.” She didn’t mention that she still couldn’t quite forgive him.

  James nodded, took a long gulp of
his beer, and seemed unsure how to proceed.

  “Your turn,” Elizabeth said overly cheerfully. “Now let’s talk about your painful stuff.”

  “What pain?” He looked baffled. “Nothing to complain about here. I’ve got a great job, amazing mates, two perfect dogs . . .”

  “One word: Paris.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned away from her. “Oh, that. Or should I say, her.”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Marion was here for six months. She worked for a wind turbine manufacturer and was here setting up a remote office. We were together almost the whole time, and we planned to stay together after she went home.” He glared at his beer. “Reid was the one who told me what was going on. She kept posting pictures on her social media and there was always this . . . guy in the background. Obviously, I was clueless. I literally just upgraded from a flip phone.” He pointed to his iPhone peeking out of his breast pocket. “She posted a video thing of her kissing the guy, and I guess it was supposed to disappear after a certain amount of time, but Reid snagged it and showed it to me. So that was it.”

  “I’m so sorry, James. What an awful way to find out.” His hatred of social media took on a new dimension.

  “It was.” He took another swallow of beer and avoided looking at her. “Live and learn.”

  The words hung between them, the weight of what they meant casting a shadow over what had started off as a perfect night. But the pub filled, their meals appeared, and they managed to keep the conversation focused on the dogs, avoiding too-serious topics like dead parents, cheating exes, and looming departure dates. James scooted his chair closer to Elizabeth as people lined up for drinks. Even though the room was buzzing with activity, the air around them seemed soundproofed.

  Rory appeared in front of them. “Another?” He pointed at their nearly empty pints.

  “We’re taking it slow tonight, we’re good for now, mate. Thanks.”

  There would be no alcohol to blame for whatever happened between them.

  Elizabeth scraped up the last of her butternut squash curry. The night was going quickly, and she needed answers.

  “Can we talk about the Tups now? What did I do? Harriet said she didn’t see me dancing on tables, so what was it?”

  They were locked in on each other, leaning in close with their shoulders touching and staring so intently that neither one noticed Rory quietly trying to get James’s attention.

  “I’m sorry to disturb,” he said, clearing his throat. “James, could you try this? Someone said it tastes off.” He held out a quarter-filled pint glass.

  “My bitter? That’s unlikely, it was just delivered yesterday.” James took the glass and drank the amber liquid in a single swig, then made a face. “Oh. Well. That’s not right at all, is it? I’ll sort it out. May I go down to the cellar?”

  “We’d appreciate it, thanks.”

  James looked like he was already working through the possible scenarios before he’d even stood up, then seemed to remember that Elizabeth was there with him.

  “Would you like to join me in the cellar?”

  “I don’t know, would I? It sounds ominous.”

  “It’s actually quite interesting. Come, it’s the heart of the pub, and not everyone gets to see it.” He grabbed the empty pint glass off the bar and took her hand.

  She followed him down a narrow flight of stairs, down a brightly lit hallway to a cramped room with a low ceiling filled with silver kegs and octopus tubing that threaded into the ceiling.

  “This is where the magic happens,” he said gesturing around them.

  “It’s freezing in here,” Elizabeth said, hugging her arms close to her chest.

  “That’s how they like it,” James said, patting one of the silver bullets.

  “How can you tell which keg is yours?” she asked.

  “They’re casks, and trust me, I could find ours with my eyes closed even if I hadn’t been here for the install.”

  Elizabeth walked around the room and followed the lines up through the ceiling. “That’s the bar above us?”

  “Indeed it is. Taste this.” He handed her the pint glass, which he’d filled directly from the cask. He watched her intently.

  “It’s fine, right?” he asked.

  “Delicious.”

  “So, the problem is not with Lost Dog, but with the Blue Boar’s dirty lines. If they don’t regularly flush the lines that carry the beer to the taps, they end up with dodgy brew. Now I have to tell Rory to step up his housekeeping.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Awkward.”

  “He seems to like you, and I’m sure you’ll approach it gently.” Elizabeth hugged herself to ward off the chill.

  “I’m quite good at being gentle,” James said, half to himself and half to her. He was staring at the floor, deep in thought.

  “Brrr,” Elizabeth said quietly. She didn’t mean for it to be audible. Though she was freezing, she didn’t want to leave the cramped little room. She liked being alone with James with the clueless crowd just a few feet above their heads.

  “You’re cold! I’m so sorry,” James said, snapping back into the present. He walked over to her and rubbed her arms from her shoulders to her elbows, setting off trails of sparklers on her skin. “Better?” He didn’t suggest leaving to warm up.

  “Not really,” she replied as a series of images flip-carded through her mind.

  The red door.

  James sitting on the planter.

  His hands on her arms.

  “Oh my God, I threw myself at you at the Tups!”

  James laughed. “You remembered!”

  “I’m mortified. I never drink that much.” She could feel her cheeks getting hot. “Did I actually kiss you?”

  “You tried. It landed here.” He pointed to his chin.

  “I can’t believe you still want to talk to me.” She shook her head. “Wow. Sorry.”

  “Now why would you be sorry? What man doesn’t want a beautiful woman begging for a kiss?”

  “I begged?”

  “You did.” James nodded, his warm hands still wrapped around her arms. “Now it’s my turn. And I’m going to quote you.” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Let’s just kiss. Let’s just try it.”

  He stood close, his green eyes locked on hers. She searched his face for any sign of teasing, but he looked like he wanted to devour her. He didn’t move.

  Elizabeth stood up on her tiptoes, grabbed the edges of his collar, and pulled him closer. If he wouldn’t make the official first move, she would.

  “Please, please, please,” she whispered with a little smile.

  They paused for a second as if sharing a joke, then touched their lips together. Elizabeth shuddered, partly from the chill in the air and partly from the jolt of his soft lips finally settling on top of hers.

  Within a second she was no longer cold. Locked in his arms, Elizabeth felt like she was surrounded by sunlight. She pressed her body even closer to his and he locked his arms tightly around her waist as they kissed. She nipped his bottom lip and he responded by kissing her harder, like it was a contest that he needed to win. James wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged gently so that her neck was exposed, then nibbled, licked, and kissed his way from the hollow at her throat to the secret spot behind her ear. Her knees almost gave out.

  “I waited too long for this, but it was worth it,” he whispered, sending a fresh wave of heat through her body.

  He ran a hand down her back, detouring to the curve of her hip. His fingers teased the hem of her skirt, slipping underneath as they kissed and skimming along the bare skin of her thighs. She pushed her hips against him, signaling that he was welcome to explore. James traced slow circles on her leg, each one moving slightly higher, until his fingers hit lace. She silently begged him not to stop.

&
nbsp; “James?” A loud voice echoed down the hallway. “All okay down there? How’s the Mad Dog?”

  Elizabeth leapt away from James and slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

  “It’s all good down here, Rory,” James called back, bending over at the waist and breathing heavily. “We’re coming.” He mouthed, No, we’re not, and Elizabeth laughed.

  “Nice timing, Rory,” she whispered to James. “But we should go up. I don’t want to get a reputation as the whore of the Blue Boar. Not that I want to stop . . .”

  “Your honor is at stake, I understand,” he replied. “Let me just grab a taste of Mad Dog for Rory so I can make my case.” He pulled her into a final embrace, locking his lips over hers for a moment, then pushed her away as Elizabeth’s hand started exploring his waistband.

  They walked through the narrow halls in the cellar and right before they got to the bottom of the steps, Elizabeth grabbed James into another melting kiss.

  “Shall we settle up and leave?” she asked.

  “Definitely.”

  Rory was waiting for them at the top of the stairs, and Elizabeth hoped that her flushed cheeks and messy hair didn’t give away what they’d been doing. She went back to her seat at the bar to allow James privacy as he dealt with the dirty-line issue.

  “He tried to get us to stay for another as a thank-you, but I can’t wait another minute,” James whispered to her once he was done. “Besides, I want a clear head for what I’m about to do to you. Let’s go.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in mock shock. “What are you going to do to me?”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her off her bar stool.

  “Let’s just say I might get you to beg again.”

  chapter thirty

  What’s the latest with you and James?” Reid asked from behind the counter. “He popped in this morning before you got here and turned scarlet when I asked about you. Are you officially a thing?”

  Elizabeth was trying to concentrate on the last round of edits on Reid’s updated website but found her mind wandering to the night before with James. Tangled in his sheets all night doing things that made her sweat and moan. His morning stubble tickling parts of her body that she was still blushing about hours later. She’d evened up the begging score, making James plead with her not to stop.