Page 48 of Something’s Brewing

Madison batted her lashes. “In honor of two of my favorite men, who refused to carry my cider. I felt it only fair.”

He laughed. A loud, honest, belly-deep laugh.

“I should be offended,” he said, holding up the can.

“You should be flattered,” she replied. “It’s my best seller already.”

“I bet.”

One of the judges—middle-aged, red-faced, and clearly already a few tastings deep—stopped to take a sample from Paige, who winked at him.

Garrett glanced at Madison. “Stacking the deck, are we?”

She shrugged innocently. “I’m just a girl standing in front of a judge with a tray of cider and a winning smile.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, amused. “You want to win that bad?”

“Oh, Garrett,” she said, stepping a little closer until her mouth was within inches of his ear. “You have no idea how bad.”

The air shifted between them.

He was suddenly painfully aware of the space—how close they stood, how the wind caught her hair, how his fingers itched to brush it back. How much he wanted to kiss her right in the middle of Brewfest with cider fans and staff all around. Bold but stupid.

Instead, he gave her a nod, retreating a step before he could do something dumb.

“Good luck, Cider Queen,” he said.

She grinned. “Thanks, Brew King.”

As he walked away, the can still in his hand, he knew one thing with absolute certainty.

He was in trouble.

He spent the day handing out samples, selling Northern Lights’ most popular brews, Loon Lager and Lake Lounger, and advertising both the Minneapolis and the Deer Creek Falls locations.

The announcer’s voice crackled through the loudspeaker, muffled over the crowd’s rising buzz of anticipation.

Garrett leaned against the corner of the Northern Lights booth, a half-drunk sample cup in hand, trying to pretend he wasn’t on edge.

After naming a craft brewery from Wisconsin as the third-place winner, the announcer continued, “In second place, with high marks for crisp balance and smooth finish—Northern Lights Brewery’s Loon Lager!”

Second place wasn’t bad. Not by a long shot. He won first with his chocolate porter, happy with the end results.

Applause broke out, and Garrett gave a modest nod and wave to the people clapping around him. Chloe whistled, and Paige, Maggie, and Lily jumped up and down like cheerleaders.

The announcer continued, “Now for the much-anticipated cider category.”

To anyone else Madison would appear confident, but Garrett noticed how she shifted her weight from one foot to another in anticipation and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear—twice.

“Third place goes to Cedar Ridge Brewing.” Applause rippled through the crowd as the brewers accepted their plaque.

“And second place goes to Pine River Brewing.” More applause echoed beneath the festival tent. Madison applauded with everyone else, convinced the top prize would go to one of the remaining breweries.

Then the announcer grinned. “And first place, by unanimous decision, for originality, flavor, and unforgettable presentation, goes to . . . Stubborn Ass Cider! Northern Lights Brewery!”

The cheer that erupted was deafening. Madison let out a stunned laugh, spun in place—then locked eyes with him across the distance.

Garrett barely had time to brace himself.