Page 11 of Tempting Max

He waits another awkward second before letting out a sigh that I feel in my soul. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

I nod again and watch as he hurries—full sasquatch stride—all the way to the brewhouse as if I am the cryptid.

All the tension that built inside me during the encounter rushes out in a sigh and I have to lean against the bar for a few moments before I can think straight.

One conversation, one interaction, and I feel like I’ve run an emotional marathon. I still can’t tell if he likes me or despises me, and I hate that I hope it falls on the like side.

Let it go, Gus. I straighten up and get back to work, trying to convince myself that it doesn’t matter when I know deep on the inside, it might be the only thing that does.

8

MAX

Icheck my watch after close on Sunday and deem it safe enough to leave the brewhouse. I’ve checked temperatures and seals on all the vats and did a thorough cleaning on all our equipment. Like I did last night and the night before. Our brewery is probably the cleanest in the state, maybe even the country. All to avoid Gus.

Since our conversation on Friday about her promotion to manager, my fantasies have gone from simple visions of her smiling to full-on, X-rated scenarios that make me want to kick my own ass. And when I saw her come in tonight in her tight jeans and little heeled boots, I thought my head was going to burst like a Looney Toon.

Those hips, that ass, the little flash of her full cleavage behind her gauzy black button-up sent me packing so fast she didn’t even get her full greeting out of her perfect little mouth.

I heard Trace ask her what was up with me. I didn’t hear her reply, the slam of the brewhouse door covered it up.

It’s just further proof that I’m losing my mind. No sane man would even dream of touching another employee after the last one burnt his entire life down. No sane man would think a woman twenty years his junior would want anything to do with his old ass. But it seems like the harder I try to shake her from my brain, the more I think about her.

At least I’m not crazy enough to touch her. At least there is still a line I won’t cross. No one needs to know about my little crush.

Waiting another five minutes just to make doubly sure I’m alone, I shut off the lights and head into the bar to make sure everything is shut down properly.

I let out a breath of relief. No one is here. Another day successfully completed without having done something stupid. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.

I wander behind the bar to flip off the remaining light and freeze.

There on her knees, her ass in the air, reorganizing the beer cooler at three in the morning, is Gus.

My cock twitches at the sight of her and I’m desperate to trace the bare patch of skin between her jeans and shirt with my tongue. Instead, I clear my throat gently, hoping not to scare the living shit out of her.

Her head whips toward me and she lets out a yelp, dropping the cans she had in her hands. “Oh my God,” she says, resting back on her haunches and pressing her hand to her heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

My jaw clenches and I rake a hand through my hair because I need to touch something, and I know it shouldn’t be her. “Sorry, I was tryingnotto scare you. I didn’t know you were here.” I drum my fingers on the bar top. “Whatareyou doing here so late? The day crew will do this.”

“I know,” she answers, grabbing the cans she dropped and putting them away. “But I had an idea for organizing the beer based on sales so that our best sellers are closer to register, making things a little faster. I didn’t want to make anyone else do it, especially if it doesn’t pan out.”

Of course, she’s doing something brilliant, and awesome for the bar without anyone asking. Just like every time she’s here. “That’s a great idea.”

She pushes up off the floor and flips the beer cooler closed. “Well, I hope so. At any rate, it’s a done deal for now.”

We stand there for a moment, facing each other, not quite making eye contact. I look everywhere but at her. I can’t, she’s too beautiful, too mouth-wateringly tempting.

“Anyway, I should probably get ho—” she starts to say, but she’s interrupted by a flash of lightning and a blast of thunder that shakes every piece of glass in the restaurant. “Holy shit,” she startles, her hand flying to her heart.

I open my mouth to speak but the weather warning on both of our phones slices through the quiet space. I grab mine from my back pocket and pull up the weather app. “Severe thunderstorm warning, large hail,” I read even though I know she’s looking at her own phone.

She turns her phone so I can see the radar image. The entire map is red with severe-level weather—an oddity at this elevation. So far this season, the storms have been quick—a few flashes of lightning, some tiny hail, a heavy dose of rain—and it’s gone. This one looks as if it’s going to set up camp on top of us.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here anytime soon.” Gus’ voice is soft, and she looks up at me like she’s afraid I’ll be mad at this thing she has absolutely no control over.

I hate that my grumpy ass makes her so unsure around me, but it needed to be that way. I’ve been avoiding her, avoidingthis, because I don’t think I’m strong enough to behave. I want to tell her I can make it home in the storm—and I should probably try. But I don’t, not when the hail starts beating against the glass.

Instead, every cell in my body seems to relax with the thought that there’s nothing I can do about this situation. That for once, it isn’t in my power to run away or change the playing field. “Want a beer?” I ask. My voice is gruff, full of tension. “On the house.”

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