Page 93 of Unstoppable Love

“I didn’t mean dancing videos, but we could film you working, zoom in on the drinks being poured, kids at the zoo, again with parent permission, or just take clips of guys playing cornhole, that kind of thing. People don’t want to only see pictures, they like feeling the energy of a place. Set to trending sounds with the right wording, it could really help.”

“How about I think about that, but in the meantime, you start with pictures?”

“I can do that.”

“I… uh…” He scratched the side of his head and frowned. “Probably should have asked first, but how much do you charge for this?”

“Nothing.” There was no way I’d take money from Bryce.

From what I knew, Dalton had been massively opposed to Bryce’s plan, but their sister Meredith had convinced him to let Bryce do what he needed to do to find his own way. Reluctantly, Dalton handed over ten acres to Bryce, and he’d spent the last year getting the brewery up and running. Besides, to me, he was the youngest Kelley and a part of Cameron’s family. I wouldn’t charge him anything.

“I have a marketing budget,” he said. “I just haven’t used it.”

“You let me help get you more traffic and customers, and then we can talk. But honestly, Bryce, this is way more fun for me than it is work. And I don’t mind doing this for free if you let me use the work I do in my portfolio if I ever decide I might be able to do this kind of stuff full-time.”

“Deal.” He reached out and shook my hand. “Sounds good.”

“Great. So you… go do whatever it is you do, and I’ll wander out and snap some pictures. Mind if I take some of you, though? As you’re working? Not planned or posed or anything like that.”

“Seriously?”

He shoved a hand through his longer, thicker hair, much like Caleb’s, and probably three months past needing a haircut. The waves flopped back down. He was wearing a forest green skintight T-shirt that showed his body well, with the words Kelley Brews and a KB logo on his left pec.

Girls would turn frazzled over the image of him doing something simple like wiping down tables.

“For better or worse, you’re the face of the company. It’s all yours, and you’ve done well with it so far. Be proud of that.”

That faint blush popped on his cheeks, and he shook his head like he was attempting to shake off the compliment. “Fine. Do whatever you need. I trust you.”

“You won’t be sorry.” I lifted my phone and snapped a picture of him smiling at me and flipped it around. “See? You’re so cute…”

He tossed a towel at me. “Don’t bully me just because I’m the baby. Get to work.”

“Man. You are one tough boss.”

He went back to drying glasses. I wandered out to the brew room first. It was clean, showing off not only Bryce’s pride in his restaurant but also his meticulousness and talent. I spent another half an hour taking pictures of the indoor, the high-top tables with glistening wood-stained tops and black metal barstools. The entire interior of the place was rustic meets industrial, with pipes showing but dark stained wood that still left it feeling warm and cozy inside. The doors to the back were open, so I took more pictures of the outdoor patio and the games available, ignoring the larger portion still under construction, and then spent the rest of the time playing with the goats and taking pictures. The chickens were in their run, so I snuck into the chicken coop and took pictures that few who visited would ever get to see. Like the inside of the brewery, the chicken coop was cleaned with fresh hay and feed for them. No eggs, which meant Bryce would have collected them that morning.

Once I had everything I needed to at least get started, I went back inside and found Bryce working at the brew tanks. I snapped a few pictures of them, but only a couple.

I’d work up to getting him comfortable with his picture taken.

“Do the chickens lay eggs?” I asked once he was wiping his hands off on a towel he flung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. I gathered them this morning. Why, want some?”

“I’d never say no to that, I was wondering what you do with them.”

“Use them here when I can, take them to Mom. A few of the workers have started helping Mom with her gardens and going to the farmers’ market on the weekends so they get what’s leftover.”

“Oh. That’s cool. Ever think of getting your own tent there?”

Bryce grinned and gave us a nervous chuckle. “I’ve got a gazillion ideas, Ava. But I’m trying not to overextend too fast. Long term, though. Yeah. And once we can produce our own brews, I plan to do off-site sales.”

While I liked him not overextending himself, the farmers’ market was a golden opportunity for relatively little cost.

“You should look into that. It’s the entire county, and who knows who comes from outside of it. A tent is what, one hundred dollars?”

“Something like that.”

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