Page 53 of Something’s Brewing

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Chloe answered the knock with a puzzled look. “You’re lucky I don’t go to bed at grandma o’clock like Paige.”

Garrett held up a six-pack. “Peace offering.”

She stepped aside, waving him in. “Either you need something or you’re hiding from your fans after Madison wiped the floor with you at Brewfest.”

He chuckled and dropped onto her couch. “I wouldn’t say wiped the floor.”

“She jumped into your arms,” Chloe said, retrieving two glasses from the kitchen. “You two could’ve sold out a rom-com premiere right then and there.”

Garrett didn’t answer. He flipped on the Twins game, and for a while they watched, commented on a questionable strike call, a diving catch, and Chloe’s prediction that the bullpen would blow the lead.

Chloe glanced at him. “Okay,” she said. “You didn’t come over to critique the Twins. What’s really going on?”

They watched another batter work a full count before Garrett finally broke the silence.

“Do you like her?” he asked.

“Is this a trick question?”

“No,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “You never liked Gabriella.”

“Because Gabriella sucked. Madison doesn’t. She’s funny, smart, and a total badass. She doesn’t put up with your crap, but she also doesn’t ask you to be anyone else. That’s rare, G.”

He exhaled slowly, staring at the bubbles rising in his glass. “It’s been a long time since I wanted something real. And I didn’t expect it to sneak up on me like this.”

Chloe sat beside him, nudging his shoulder. “You two are good together. Don’t let that fear voice in your head make the decisions. The only thing stopping you is you.”

He shook his head with a crooked grin. “You’re not the only one to give me that kind of advice.”

“Maybe you should start listening then.”

“She named the cider after us.”

Chloe grinned. “Oh, she definitely did.”

“I need to stop being a stubborn ass and go get her.”

“Best thing you’ve said yet. Now get out of here and let me get some sleep.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Determined, Garrett pushed open the door to Turner Books, the familiar bell chiming overhead. He spotted Lily across the store helping a customer locate a book. She called out a cheerful welcome, and he lifted a hand in acknowledgment before drifting toward the thriller section to wait.

He pulled a book from the shelf and turned it over to read the synopsis, but the words blurred together. His mind wasn’t on plots or detectives, but on Madison—the way she laughed with her whole body, how she’d admitted egg rolls were her kryptonite like she was confessing a secret, and the way her hand had brushed against his earlier at the brewery—an electric touch that had sent him straight back to the crowded ballroom, blue satin, and the night he’d never forget.

He slid the book back into place as Lily approached.

“Hey, Garrett. What can I help you find today?”

“Actually . . .” He cleared his throat. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

Her brows lifted with interest. “Oh yeah?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. “I’m not sure how to ask you this without sounding . . . I don’t know. Offensive.”

Lily gave him an encouraging smile. “Just ask. I promise I won’t take offense.”