Page 39 of Single All the Way

“You just wish you could get paid to market beer too,” Chance said. He ripped the gift wrap off and tossed it aside. He leaned forward and put the box on the floor, then lifted out a growler. “Beer?”

“Hard cider,” Luke said. “Because apples are better than hops any day.”

In addition to Christmas trees, Luke grew apples and strawberries on his land. Chance was the marketing manager for Rusty Anchor Brewing and lived and breathed beer.

“Did you start brewing the hard stuff?” Chance asked.

“It’s not mine. I got it from a cidery on the west side of the state. I’m looking into the possibility. We might be in competition soon, my man,” Luke said.

“Eh, not direct though. Bring it on. We might even be willing to carry a local cider at the Anchor for the nonbeer folks.” He twisted the lid off and sniffed. “That’s nice…for apples.”

Luke told him the four different varieties in the box.

“Hey, this is actually cool,” Chance said. “My mind is open to multiple kinds of alcohol. Thanks, Luke.”

“You might have to share,” Knox said, reading the label on one of the growlers.

“After gifts, we’ll do a taste test,” Chance said. “Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” Max said, then delivered a bag to West.

West sat forward and pulled out a large water tumbler perfect for his construction job. “Jesus. I love it,” he said. He turned it so we could read it.

It had a hard hat on it and said,Always use protection, eliciting more laughs all around.

“Use protection for sure,” West said, shaking his head. “Unfortunately not much opportunity for that these days.”

“I feel you,” Luke said.

“There’s something else in there,” Max said to West.

Like a kid, West’s eyes lit up, his lonely bachelor state forgotten. He pulled out something bright yellow. “Socks?” He unfolded them and read, “‘Want to hear a joke about construction?’” He flipped them so he could read the rest. “‘I’m still working on it.’ Ha. Funny guy. Sadly one hundred percent true.” He laughed. “Thanks, Max. I’ll wear them to work and flash them at appropriate moments when we’re behind schedule.”

“What does it say that we all went the gag route?” Knox asked.

“That we’re funny fuckers,” West said. As he stood to get the present he’d brought, he chuckled to himself in a way that made me nervous. Max and I were the only ones who hadn’t gotten anything yet.

West carried a box past Max and held it out to me. I met his eyes, and the spark in them did nothing to put me at ease.

As he sat back down, I unwrapped the box and opened it. Nestled in straw was a bottle of white wine. I puzzled over that as I dug deeper. Next up I pulled out two taper candles. I shot a look at West.

“You fixin’ to wine and dine me?” I asked in a fake deep drawl.

“Keep digging,” he said.

Next I pulled out two small silver items. “Candle holders?”

“You got it, Romeo,” West said. “One more thing in there.”

I lowered my brows at him as I dug. I hit cardboard and pulled it out to discover a box of condoms, thirty-six count.

Before I could put two thoughts together, West said, “Since you got a live-in lady now, I thought you could use some help with the romance—and the protection.”

“Always use protection,” Chance bellowed, laughing.

“Fuck.” I closed my eyes, trying to smile, but I was already in such a state over Emerson that this was hitting flat for me.

“Come on,” Luke said beside me, punching my arm. “You’ve gotta admit that’s funny.”

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