Page 52 of Best Kind of Trouble
I don’t use this word lightly, but the barrel room looks fucking magical.
“Mostly,” Otis says excitedly. “Sophie says she’s ‘got a good eye.’ Briar’s pretty great, right? You’re so lucky you’re working with her. God, you must get to spend, like, all day with her, right? That’s the dream.”
I give him a sidelong look. “You’ve got it bad for her, huh?”
He pulls off his knit cap, revealing a mass of messy dark hair. Wringing the hat between his hands, he says, “I know she’s never going to go for me. Sophie tells me that all the time, but I was hoping I could at least change the way she looks at me. You know. So she doesn’t think I’m, like, a little brother. I was kind of hoping you could help me with that.”
“Me?” I point to my chest in bemusement. This is the first time anyone has ever asked me to play cupid. I hope to hell it will be the last.
“Hannah mentioned you go to this boxing gym.” He wrings his hat in his hands. “I thought maybe if I could get swole, she’d see me as more of a man.”
“You shouldn’t get fit for someone else, kid. You do it for yourself.” Or, in my case, because you need it. Because nothing else burns off the bad feelings.
“Then I’d like to do it for myself. Can you train me?”
“How do you know I’m any good at boxing?” I ask with a laugh.
“Look at you!” He gestures with the hat and nearly drops it. “You look like you could carry a house.”
“Depends on how big it is.”
“There you go.” He slings the hat up again. “I couldn’t even carry a henhouse.”
“Sure, I’ll bring you,” I say, making a split-second decision. This kid’s all right, but he needs confidence. Either boxing will help him, or he’ll take one blow to the face and retreat to hissmartphone. Might as well bring him once, introduce him to some of the guys. Maybe he’ll surprise both of us. “But first you’ve got to help me with something. We’re doing a beer tasting this afternoon to figure out what to make next. Let’s set it up down here. Give Briar a real thrill.”
She’ll need it, because I have to tell her that the brewery isn’t actually organic, and probably hasn’t been since it earned its certification.
The kidand I park ourselves at a table in the tasting room, waiting for Briar to arrive. He blathers on about some video game I’ve never heard about and couldn’t care less about; I stew over how to solve this latest problem.
It’s a pretty big blow, on top of the beer’s failure to ferment quickly enough.
Another half hour passes before Briar arrives at the front door with Dottie and a dark-haired woman. Briar’s hair is blowing in the wind, moving like a sinuous golden scarf.
It takes me a second to look away from her and identify her companion as Nora. Interesting. She didn’t mention they were meeting, but Hannah’s been all hot on the topic of Nora, so I’m not surprised.
“They’re here,” Otis exclaims unnecessarily as he leaps to his feet and bounds toward the door, opening it even as Briar pulls out her key.
“Otis,” she says, surprised. Her gaze strays to me. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “He’s joining us for the tasting.”
“Oh, lovely,” Dottie says. “We’ll have representatives from three generations. That’s just as it should be.”
Otis seems disgruntled at the reminder that he’s a decade younger than Briar, but he accepts a hug from Dottie as all three women hurry into the tasting room, Nora shutting the cold out behind her.
“Nora, this is Otis,” Briar says, gesturing to the kid. Her lips firm into a line as she flings a hand at me. “And Liam, our head brewer.”
“Is that the royal we?” I ask.
Briar doesn’t crack a smile, not that I’d expected differently.
Nora greets both Otis and me before telling me, “I tried your home brew at the last Brewfest. It was fantastic.”
I nod, and give credit where it’s due. “I like what you’re doing down at The Ginger Station too. But I hear you ruined my buddy Cormac’s science experiment.”
She stares at me, obviously baffled.
“Cormac Peebles,” I add. Lifting a hand up to his approximate height—six-two or maybe six-three—I say, “About yay high. Curly hair. Glasses. Talks like he was unpopular as a child.”
