Page 6 of Tempting Max

“Fuck you,” he bites and angrily tosses his spoon into his empty bowl. “God I can’t wait until we make enough to live separately.”

“You and me both, kid,” I answer.

Liam nods emphatically.

“Speaking of making money,” Liam adds, joining us at the table with his grown-ass breakfast and an honest-to-God glass of orange juice. When he sets it all down, it looks like a damn magazine spread. “I spent the morning going over the social media responses.”

“Of course, you did,” Elliot mutters.

Liam doesn’t acknowledge him. “Not a single person we invited to the soft opening has declined. We will have a full house, possibly more than we expected with plus ones. I think we’ll do well provided there aren't any unforeseen hiccups.”

“Shouldn’t be,” I answer. Liam’s training has been, in a word—comprehensive—down to running drills in cases of emergency. There isn’t a staff on the planet that could be more prepared to serve beer than ours.

My mind slips back to Gus again, to the way her mouth forms the names of the beers I created, the way she steps in and helps everyone else when they’re faltering, and I rocket out of my chair when my cock twitches for the first time in a very,verylong time.

“Everything okay, big guy?” Elliot asks.

Both he and Liam are looking at me like I’ve just announced I’m an alien living in a human suit. I scrape the bottom of the barrel for excuses. “Just remembered I didn’t tweak the temp on the next month’s shandy. I’m going to head down and check on it.”

My brothers share a look. They both know I’m meticulous with my brews and would never make such a stupid mistake, but they let me off the hook. Probably because they know I’m not going to tell the truth anyway.

It’s easier this way.

“See you guys later,” I tell them, grabbing another protein shake and heading out the door.

The moment the early summer mountain air fills my lungs, I feel a little better and the three block walk to get to Redpoint is enough to clear my head.

I take the first full breath of the day and relax a tiny, infinitesimal amount. I’m sure my reaction to Gus was just a fluke brought on by stress. It won’t happen again.

Itcan’thappen again.

5

GUS

Itake a deep breath and try to contain my fluttering heart as the doors to Redpoint Brewery open for the first time. It may be only the soft opening, but it feels like everything is on the line.

I’m not the only one feeling the pressure. Trace and his buddy Colin are oddly quiet, Stella and George—the older hires—aren’t trying to one-up each other with bartending nightmare stories. Liam’s face has developed a twitch, and even the seemingly carefree and often absent youngest brother Elliot, seems subdued.

Max is nowhere to be seen, but I feel his presence. Like a looming thunderstorm. I hate that I’m disappointed he’s not out here with us. It’s stupid. When heisaround, he’s grumpy and mono-syllabic, and always in the way. Colin and Trace get nervous when he’s around and he generally brings the mood down about five notches.

Still, he’s hella easy on the eyes. Even if he looks like he’d rather drop kick me off the peak than have a conversation, it doesn’t keep that yummy, addictive little zip in my stomach from happening whenever his cold blue eyes meet mine.

And those climbable shoulders…

“Here we go,” Liam announces, unlocking the door to the waiting crowd at exactly five o’clock, and shocking me out of my mountain-man climbing fantasy. “Do your thing.”

From that moment until nearly nine that evening, there isn’t even a moment to think. The huge, appreciative, and noisy crowd makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt since before I met Ethan. I love it.

“I thought this was a soft opening,” Trace comments as we replace yet another keg. It’s the fifth one of the night and the crowd shows no signs of stopping.

I laugh as the keg falls into place and I tear off the plastic cap. “Well, it was supposed to be an open house kind of thing, but no one is leaving.”

“That’s because the beer here is fire,” Trace comments as he hooks the hose up. “There isn’t anything better, even in Denver.”

I grin as we shut the cabinet and clear the line. “Agreed. I think this is a good sign of how it’s going to be for a while.”

Trace nods toward the overflowing tip jar, “With tips like that, I’ll never complain about being busy.”

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