Page 29 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“Chicken tikka masala and a pint.”

“Do they have your IPA here?” she asked.

“They do. Is that what you want?”

It always seemed a bit braggy to order his own beer at the pub. The barrels he’d sent here were from his spring brew, and he’d tried a different way of activating the yeast that Owen had suggested. So it was different than anything he’d tried before. “I guess.”

Poppy sat back down and put her hand on his. “It’s good. I mean, I already tried that sample. I bet it would be nice with your tikka. Why are you hesitating?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. Years of conditioning from being around his father made him hesitate. If it wasn’t his best, then it wasn’t worth anything in Howard Miller’s eyes. “You sampled a different batch. The one here...I tried something different with the yeast, and it has a good flavor, but it’s not as smooth on the tongue as I want it to be,” he admitted. “Not saying it’s crap.”

Poppy leaned in closer, looking him in the eyes. “I find those types of brews teach me the most. The tea bags I brought with me are my third version of Magic Courage.”

“I bet the other two were good.”

“They were, but not perfect, so I get it. You can get whatever you want to drink. I’m going to try it. I bet you’re being too harsh,” she said. “The pub owners bought it and are selling it, so that has to count for something.”

“They like it. It’s light and perfect for a warm day, according to their customers.”

“Stop letting your dad dictate your life,” she said.

Uh.

He wanted to say,I’m not.But that was a lie. Even on his leave of absence. Even away from Lancaster-Spencer. Even as he was plotting the old man’s ouster from the company, he still felt the hold of his father. That ridiculous need to get the approval he’d always withheld and was more than likely never going to offer.

“Fair play. I’ll have the Ali’s Brew Spring.”

Poppy went and placed their order and returned a few minutes later with their pints, and the waitress followed with some tap water for them. “The owner told me this was a local ale and that it was very popular. I mentioned I’d heard it wasn’t smooth.”

“Ha. Tell me what you think,” he said, watching her as she took a delicate sip. She let the liquid stay on her tongue before swallowing it.

Staring at her, tension occupying every fiber of his being, he wondered if she’d like it or not.

Her opinion mattered way more to him than his father’s did. He wanted to impress her. Wanted to show her that he was more than what he’d been bred to be.

Drinking with Ali gave her all the feels. Most of them seemed to be centered in the very core of her. Technically, he wasn’t the hottest man she’d ever met. Surely, there had been other men who’d been more attractive. But she couldn’t think of a single one of them right now.

It was like as soon as she’d told her mind that he was off limits, it had started noticing all the little details. Like the way he fiddled with his signet ring just before he said something that made her feel warm and gooey inside.

And the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was getting serious about brewing.

It was so funny to see how much this meant to him. Her bad, but she’d totally thought he joined the Tea Society as a way to get her to come back to him. Turned out, he was really into brewing.

That single fact turned her on way more than him trying to sneak back to her. She liked that he had a legit reason for joining. Like he was sincere about being a member of the society.

“George suggested that if the kombucha turns out well, they’d stock it in the London store,” Alistair said.

“Really? He wouldn’t even consider my new blends for that location,” she said, which really had been the bucket of cold water she’d needed in her life. Everyone had said she was part of the family, but her opinion was never heard at the boardroom table and no one ever backed her.

“Shocker, right? He said that legacy brands were losing traction because they didn’t grow with the market,” Ali said. “He has moments where I sort of realize he’s not mini-dad.”

That was good to hear. Alistair had mentioned that he and George had a plan for when they spoke to his parents. “Is the plan you brought up part of that?”

His hand was in his hair again, then he drained his pint in a long swallow. “Definitely. Want another one?”

Once she nodded he went to order them more drinks.

They’d been at the Cross Keys for almost two hours. The food was nice; the fish and chips were delicious. Her nap earlier meant she wasn’t tired, but she was starting to feel slightly buzzed.

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