All throughout the day, he’d see a clock and wonder what Blue was doing. Was she at her studio? Was she excited for her date?
Last night, while Blue was probably out on her date, Lee had held another contest at a large bar. The stakes had been high. The owner had promised Lee he’d walk away with a big order if he managed to get the crowd excited and engaged.
The contest was wildly successful, and Lee had not only walked out with a large order but a commitment to make Home Sweet Home, the winning brew, a featured tap once it was finally released in March. One very persistent woman had also done her best to leave with him after paying him attention all night. When Lee returned from the owner’s office to tear down his display, he found her waiting for him.
She pressed her body into his and walked her fingertips over his chest. “You had a big night,” she said in a Southern drawl while looking up at him through thick lashes. “I think you need to celebrate.”
She was a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and blue-gray eyes, but he couldn’t help thinking she was a poor imitation of Blue. It was close to midnight. Had Blue gone home with Dr. Wonderful? Worse, had she taken him home to meet Buford? Were they sitting on her sofa right now, drinking wine and kissing? Oh God, were they in her bed, twisted up in her sheets?
He’d shuddered, refusing to let his mind go there. How much easier would sex be with this woman who wasn’t part of a club for down-on-their-luck people that had ridiculous rules and a love for theatrics?
But he didn’t want meaningless sex. He wanted Blue.
So he’d told the woman at the bar no, something she apparently hadn’t heard a lot of given her shocked expression, and went back to the motel alone.
Now, he was with Blue. And she’d kissed him and agreed to drive to the brewery with him rather than Harry. Did that mean she wanted him too?
Take this slow. Don’t scare her off.
“I’m sorry I was late,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove slowly down the long, wooded road to the gate. “But Addy had an emergency with Tyrion.”
“Oh, no!” Blue exclaimed. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Lee said, rolling his eyes. “He got into a batch of muffins that Iris made and threw up all over the first floor. She was so worried about him I couldn’t leave her. We called Maisie, who said he’d be fine, but then I stayed and helped Addy clean up.”
Blue reached over and took his hand again. “That was sweet.”
He scowled. “If I hadn’t helped her clean it up, it might have stained the rugs, becauseof coursehe threw up on all the rugs.”
She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe a word of it. “You’re wearing a T-shirt.”
His scowl deepened, and it took everything in him not to squirm. “Like I said, I cleaned up dog vomit and Tyrion is abigdog.”
He shot her a glance.
“I know,” she said with a grin. “I’ve seen him.”
“Well, you can imagine…or not… In any case…” Why was he getting so flustered? Lee Buchanan didn’t get flustered, or at least he didn’t show it.
“So what you’re saying is that your previous shirt got dirty, and this was the only thing in your house you had to change into?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her tone.
Well, crap. He should have thought of a better reason, but then he’d made the decision to wear it at the very last minute. The idea had popped into his head while he and Adalia were still cleaning up. He’d found himself thinking about Blue, wondering how she’d look at him if he showed up in a graphic T-shirt. Would it help her forget about Dr. Wonderful?
“Say,” he’d said to his sister, trying not to cringe. “Has Finn left any graphic T-shirts over here?”
She was on her knees, bent over the living room rug with a scrub brush in one hand, a bowl of soapy water next to her. Her hands were covered in oversized yellow rubber gloves.
“What in the hell did Iris bake into those muffins?” she groaned. “This is disgusting.”
“Well,” Lee had prodded. “Did he?”
She glanced up at him in confusion. “Why? Did you find one in the basement between the washer and the dryer? This ismost assuredlynot the time to be harping on me about loose laundry lying around.”
He could always tell when he’d stepped on her last nerve—she started sounding like one of the actresses in those movies she loved based on books written in the 1800s.
“No,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. “I didn’t find one.”
He was tempted to let it go, but all he could think about was Blue and the look he wanted to see on her face. She’d admitted that she didn’t expect him to wear a T-shirt, which made him want to surprise her. To please her. It seemed so stupid to compare wearing a T-shirt to saving children’s lives, but it was all he had in his arsenal right now, and it would prove he’d listened to her. Really listened to what she needed, and it wasn’t necessarily an important man—thank God, or he’d be out of the running. Besides, she’d had that with Remy. What she wanted was a man who took her feelings and desires into consideration. Wearing a T-shirt seemed like such a stupid thing, but it was the one thing she’d asked of him—other than going to the club itself—and it was one thing he could give her. A lot of things were shit in his life right now, but hedidhave control over this one small thing, and frankly, he needed a win in the personal growth department.