Page 100 of Best Kind of Trouble
“You did?” I ask, glancing around. Otis is close enough to overhear us.
“Oh, yes.” Dottie pats my arm. “He was in quite a state. It was obvious he’d lost sleep over something. But hedidgive me some excellent news at the end of our talk. The pale ale will be ready in time for our celebration.”
Thatisgood news, but I don’t care the way I should.
Liam’s not here. He’s upset because of me. It suggests he cares more than I thought he did last night…
“He went home?” I ask.
“Yes. I could tell he needed the sleep.”
The brewery’s closed tomorrow and on Christmas, so the earliest I’ll see him is on Tuesday.
Again, that should be a relief. A few days might be long enough for us to remember our list of rules. We can reset and be friends again—friends with an inconvenient attraction that will hopefully fade over time.
But the tight feeling in my chest is more like panic than relief.
“You’re still having Christmas dinner with Nora, aren’t you?” Dottie asks.
“Yeah,” I say distractedly, running my fingers over my lips.
“Liam was very concerned about making sure you had plans.”
I smile despite the pain ribboning through my chest. “Of course he asked you.”
“I didn’t tell him where you were going, of course.” She hesitates before adding, “Will you come to my Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night, dear? I’d like it if you would. You’ll fit right in, and my granddaughter will talk your ear off about running a brewery.”
“I’d like nothing better,” I say honestly, feeling a rush of heat behind my eyes. I mean it, of course. Dottie is the sweetest person I know, and the rebranding of Buchanan Brewery after the younger generation took over from the older was a runaway success. I’d love to talk the Buchanans’ ears off, but that’s not why I’m so grateful for the invitation. Dottie is accepting me as family. Treating me like I matter in a way my own family never has.
My mind tilts toward Liam.
He’s alone, and his only plan is to stay that way. That makes me sad down to my bones.
The day passes slowly,and all of it feels dull.
Is Liam drinking already? Will he spend the next two days drinking? Will he go to the gym and break another heavy bag?
I’d like to think he’s upset because of what happened between us, but it seems just as likely this is something he goes through every year because of her, whoever she is.
I want to go to him, but I won’t.
Liam said he couldn’t be with me, and I should take him at his word.
I’ve always been the one to give people second and third and fourth chances. I gave Jonah the benefit of the doubt when he told me he was really busy with work. And I bought my business partner, Theresa, new accounting software when she insisted her outdated software was the cause for our “missing” money.
But no more. I’m not going to run toward more rejection with my arms open wide, hoping the void will hug me back.
It’s probably better this way, anyway. While there’s obviously a spark between us, there’s Hannah to think of, plus the good of the brewery.
Before I leave for the night, I gather the staff together and hand out scratch-off tickets as bonuses, telling everyone we’ll have real bonuses next year.
If we’re still here, it goes without saying.
“I think it’s gonna be my lucky day,” Ann says, laughing as she flips through her stack of tickets.
“Miss Ann, there are terrible odds of winning,” Otis tells her.
“Someone’s gotta win, honey. Someday it’s gonna be me.”
