Page 8 of Tempting Max

“Saw what?” I ask innocently, sliding my P’arête across the table with greedy grabby hands.

“Those goo-goo eyes you just made at The Grouch.”

“I didnotmake goo-goo eyes. I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” I answer, taking a sip.

Trace snorts. “Right. The Grouch, aka, Max, ourmuch olderboss. You know, the man whose ass you just ogled for a full five seconds.”

I redden but keep my spine straight. I know Trace isn’t making fun of me—he wouldn’t do that, but he did catch me doing something I shouldn’t have. “I didn’t ogle. I perused.”

“Mm-hm.” Trace takes another gulp, clearly amused. “You’ve got some drool on the side of your mouth.”

I whack him on the shoulders, “Shut up.”

He laughs. “All right, I’ll stop.” He clicks his drink against mine. “Nice work tonight. Not sure I would have survived without you being the Zen master all night.”

“Me?”

He raises a shoulder. “Yeah, you kept us all chill and focused. It was great. Without you, I think everything would have fallen apart the second we got slammed.”

The compliment touches me deeper than I expected. I think because for so long I felt like I had nothing to add, nothing to offer anyone else.Take that, Ethan.I smile and for the first time in a long time, I take a compliment. “Thank you for saying that Trace. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” he swipes his bangs off his forehead, “catch you later, G.”

As he wanders off to bug Colin, I look around and smile. I know we’re just getting started here, but it feels like something magical is happening. The people, the place, the brew, it feels…right.Like I’m in the right place at the right time.

It’s about time.

6

MAX

“Nice of you to make it,” I quip at Elliot when he wanders in twenty minutes late looking like he never made it home last night. I’d stake our entire earnings from the week we’ve been open on the fact that he went home with a patron or two. I’d ask him to stop sleeping with our clientele, but that would get me nowhere but laughed at.

He shrugs and slips into the seat across from Liam and I with all the strength of a wet noodle. “Hey, twenty minutes isn’t bad. I feel like it shows growth.”

Liam and I share a look and he flips open his laptop for our weekly meeting without commenting further. “Today begins week two,” he starts. “Opening went better than I’d hoped. After a few small, expected hiccups, I think things are running smoothly.”

Elliot and I both nod. The first week has surpassed all our expectations and proves that the meticulous planning Liam did to find the perfect location for our new start is paying off in spades. Paintbrush has everything—booming tourism, loyal locals, and all the charm to make it a social media must-visit.

“If things continue like this, we’ll be on track financially,” he goes on. “A little ahead, actually. We might be able to pay back our loan early.”

“That’s great news,” I offer, remembering how difficult it was for us to even apply for a loan after everything was stripped from us.

Elliot grunts in agreement, his head falling to the side as if he’s too weak to keep it up. It wouldn’t be the first time he dozed off at a business meeting. Sometimes I envy his ability to switch off the stress and truly enjoy himself, but right now I find it irritating as fuck.

“Did you getanysleep last night?” I ask Elliot, snapping him awake.

He picks his head up with a slow smile that I can only describe as dastardly and answers, “Not. A. Wink. Oh my God, the things she did with her—”

“Please tell me it was a tourist.” Liam’s tone is clipped with disdain as he interrupts Elliot’s X-rated synopsis of his night.

“Yes,” Elliot bites back, “I know the rules, no locals. I’m a player, not an idiot.”

I stifle the urge to say otherwise as I know exactly how the rest of the conversation will pan out. Elliot will try to take a swipe at me, I’ll block it, and then he’ll storm out like a wounded teenager. For the sake of the brewery, I hold my tongue.

Liam clears his throat, clearly wanting to say something similar but choosing not to. It may have taken us twenty-some years, but we are maturing. Albeit at glacial speeds. “That brings us to staffing. I think we have an excellent crew. My only suggestion is to promote Gus to manager. She’s the one that pulls the team together and makes everything run smoothly. She’s a natural.”

My whole body reacts to her name like someone tased me. After our conversation at the soft opening, I’ve done everything in my power to assure I’m not in the same room as her. All I can think of is the way she said my beer was stunningly delicious, the way she moaned when the Kolsch rolled over her tongue. It’s plagued my dreams, my every waking moment since then and I don’t trust myself to be around her.

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