Page 69 of Best Kind of Trouble
“I underestimated how good your beer was.”
His smile grows wider, and although neither of us moves, we seem to get closer anyway. “So the beer is my only attraction, huh?”
“I’m not the one who said it.”
His lips curl in a way that makes my chest tight. But he quickly sobers, his smile fading. “We should probably avoid being alone together.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Feel free to add it to the rules.”
The smile ghosts over his lips again. He turns toward the door, signaling that our conversation is over, which is probably for the best, but then he turns back around.
His mass seems to alter the gravitational pull in the room. Everything is leaning in toward him, including me. For a long moment, he just watches me, his eyes as hot and unavoidable as the sun. Then he says, “It’s not only the way you look.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful, Briar. Everyone knows that. But that’s far from the only thing you have to offer. And even though that shouldn’t have happened last night, I don’t regret it. I’ll remember it. I’ll always fucking remember it. So itwasworth it for me.”
I stare at the door for a long time after he leaves through it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LIAM
Briar and Liam’s Rules for Success
Don’t be alone with your boss. You might just kiss her.
Don’t allude to kissing your boss.
Don’t let Ann get you alone in the storage room. She might pinch your butt.
Text conversation with Briar
OMG did she really pinch your butt? I’ll have a talk with her.
I think the Tinder girls put her up to it. I saw one of them giving her a scratch-off ticket.
Definite payoff.
That’s sexualharassment.
I enjoyed every second. Feel free to pinch my butt anytime.
New rule: don’t encourage your boss to pinch your butt.
You’re no fun.
It’s a Thursday evening at Silver Star, and I’m singing to my pale ale.
Yes, that’s right. I’m serenading a beer.
This coming Monday is Christmas Day. That means the New Year’s Eve party is next Saturday.
If this beer is going to be ready on time, I have to carbonate on Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest.
I’m not usually a superstitious man, but I will buy rabbits’ feet by the bag and knock on every piece of wood I come across if it means this beer will be ready even a few minutes sooner.
I care about making Silver Star a success. I need it to happen for myself, because it feels good to make my own beer. I also need it for Briar, who’s been working her cute butt off all week. Once we have a few of our new beers out, she’ll be able to start booking high-dollar guests in that cozy little room we decked out.
