Page 11 of Something’s Brewing

“We’re opening in a few weeks,” he said. “Check social media for updates and be sure to stop by and see us.”

He nodded and flashed the crowd a smile. Women whistled and screamed. For some reason, the crowd of lonely women waved dollar bills in the air. Maybe he could get used to this. How bad could it be? He hadn’t been on a date since he moved back to town almost a year ago, his sole focus and energy concentrated on the brewery.

“Alright, dinner at the Blue Ox with Garrett. Let’s start the bid at one hundred dollars!”

“One hundred!” Ruth hollered.

What was his mom doing bidding on him? How humiliating. He scowled at her to let her know it wasn’t okay.

Then the bidding started. “Two hundred!” The bids increased by fifty dollars each time a paddle raised.

Garrett winked at his mom. Leave it to her to start a bidding war.

“Nine hundred!”

“Twelve hundred!”

“Fifteen hundred!”

“Come on, ladies, you can do better than that!” Elsie said as she called out the numbers on the paddles.

“Three thousand dollars!”

The crowd gasped all at once, searching for the mystery person with deep pockets. Garrett shifted his weight to try and find the woman who’d doubled the bid, but could only see the paddle.

Elsie squeezed his hand. “Going once, going twice. SOLD to number forty-one!”

He tried to get a look at the winning bid slip in Elsie’s hand while she maintained a firm grip on his uninjured arm, but she shielded it from him.

Someone he couldn’t see had bid three thousand dollars. Hopefully it wasn’t a rich tourist looking to take home a trophy. He shuddered at the thought.

He had survived the bidding process, barely, by channeling his happy-go-lucky brother, Cole, as much as he could while the town hollered like they were at an auction for prime cattle. He should’ve known better than to let Cole talk him into filling in. But Cole was in Hawaii, and Garrett had been too distracted to put up a real fight when he had asked for the favor. Plus, being happy for his brother made it worth the humiliation.

“And the winner of a date with Garrett Reid is . . . Madison Mitchell!”

For a full three seconds, his brain rejected reality.

Madison? Madison’s here?

His gaze snapped to the crowd, searching, scanning. He had told Mason not to send her to help with the brewery opening, because he was afraid if she came, he wouldn’t be able to maintain a business relationship. Then he saw her, which cemented his initial thought.

Holy hell.

Madison made her way to the front, that troublemaking grin firmly in place, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

And worse—she looked . . . good.

No, not just good.

Distraction-level beautiful.

The kind of beautiful that made his thoughts scatter like spilled grains on a brewery floor.

Madison’s calves were wrapped in some kind of strappy satin that led to her wedge sandals, which made her long, tanned legs look even longer. The soft blue dress she wore flowed around her like she belonged on a sun-drenched vineyard, not standing in the middle of a small-town charity auction.

Her sun-kissed brown hair curled over her shoulders, loose waves that made it impossible not to think about running his fingers through them. She had on just enough makeup to make her eyes pop, but not so much that it made her look overly polished.

Not meaning to, he licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry.