Page 114 of Fall is Brewing

I steal a look at Brooks. Even after a year and a half, and living together for six months, the sight of my boyfriend dressed up in a tux manages to knock the breath from my lungs. Hell, the sight of him knocks the air from my lungs even when he’s in nothing but a flannel and jeans.

But tonight? Wow. His tuxedo fits like it was tailored specifically for him, crisp black lapels framing broad shoulders that somehow seem even broader than they did when he spent his days in flannel and work boots. He'd traded his usual baseball cap for neatly combed hair that refuses to stay entirely tamed, one stubborn lock already falling across his forehead. The bow tie I'd tied for him twenty minutes ago sits ever so slightly crooked.

It shouldn't be attractive, but it really, really is.

He catches me staring. "What?"

I smile innocently. "Nothing."

"Willa,” he teases.

"You clean up surprisingly well, Calder.”

He laughs softly. "Surprisingly?"

"I've mostly seen you covered in cider pulp.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Oh, I'll never forget the day you accidentally exploded a fermentation tank."

His eyebrows lift and he lets out an offended scoff, one hand still resting casually on the steering wheel. "I'd hardly call that an explosion."

I twist in my seat just enough to look at him, lifting an eyebrow. "The ceiling disagrees."

"We cleaned it."

"It smelled like apples in your tasting room for three weeks."

He glances over at me, amusement dancing in those impossible blue eyes. "It always smells like apples."

"It smelled extra appley and you know it."

He laughs, the sound low and warm enough to make me smile wider. Then he reaches across the console and catches my hand, his thumb brushing lazily across my knuckles. Our hands fit together so naturally now that I barely remember when they didn't.

He squeezes my hand before lifting it to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles without ever taking his eyes off the road. "I love you."

The words settle over me as easily as breathing now, no less powerful simply because I've heard them a thousand times.

I pretend to think about it, tapping my finger lightly against my chin. "Hmm."

His eyes flick toward me for half a second. "Hmm?"

"I was just weighing the pros and cons."

"Oh, really?”

"On the one hand..." I gesture vaguely toward him. "You're handsome."

"A promising start."

"On the other hand... you occasionally redecorate buildings with hard cider."

He laughs. "I've only done that once."

"So far."

He shakes his head, smiling despite himself. "I was hoping you'd say it back."