Page 66 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

An alarm buzzed on his watch, and he knew he had to leave to get to the tavern, but he didn’t want to. Everything felt off. His fault. Again. Was he ever going to do things right with her? Would anything be easy when it came to Poppy? Or was he always going to be on the back foot with her?

“I’ll see you later. Probably in about thirty minutes or so. I want a shower,” she said.

“I want one with you,” he said. All he could see was her naked, water sliding down her body. He knew how she tipped her head back and let the water run down her face before she started washing. That she uttered her thanks for clean, cool water. He’d watched her too many times for his body not to react to imagining showering with her.

“Maybe after work,” she said, pushing him toward the door.

After they talked. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to let this get swept under the rug. He didn’t want to either. Things had been so good between them for the past few weeks. He kept trying to tell himself that he was ready for this life.

But there were parts of his past that didn’t involve her. Things she still didn’t know that he felt she deserved to.

Their divorce had stripped away the mask of civility he’d always hidden behind. It had taken a few months for him to become the monster he’d always felt he was at his core. That man who was nothing but a servant to his hormones and emotions. The ones that he’d never learned to really deal with.

He had to get out of here now, or he was going to confess it all, and then, depending on how she reacted...he had no idea what would happen.

At first, he kissed her hard because of the turmoil inside of him, and then more gently, because this was Poppy. His moon fairy. Her magic had wrapped itself around him and wasn’t letting up, making it easier to be the man he wanted to be.

But when she learned how far he’d fallen, would she still want him?

“See ya later.” He forced himself to calmly leave her house.

He’d jogged over earlier, but a full run now would do him good. He took the shortest route back to the tavern, even though his mind was desperate for a longer run. There was no time.

Ironic that, in the past, he would have just blown off his shift at the tavern. But he’d given his word to Owen, a man who was probably his first true friend, and Ali wasn’t going to break it. That guy was in the past. As was the man who let anger take everything he’d worked his entire life for.

That guy was gone.

He got to the tavern with five minutes to spare. He hurried upstairs to use the shower in Lily’s old apartment and changed into the jeans and Bootless Soldier T-shirt that served as the tavern’s uniform.

When he entered the bar, it was noisy and busy. Crowded. Just what he needed. No time to think or dwell on whatever would happen later when he talked to Poppy.

He spotted Lars behind the bar. “Alright?”

“Yeah it’s good,” Lars said. “I’m going to grab dinner, and then I’ll be back, so you won’t have to cover the whole night. Thanks again for helping out.”

“It’s what mates do.”

Lars just smiled and left.

Alistair was kept busy with drink orders and keeping an eye on the rest of the seasonal staff, who sometimes had questions about the curated ales in the summer festival range.

He was busy, but not so much so that he missed the moment that Poppy entered the tavern wearing a sundress, her hair in a braid. Their eyes met, his heart raced, and that fear that he’d been trying to control since she asked why he left Lancaster-Spencer snaked its way into his stomach.

As if nothing was wrong and things were the exact same as yesterday, he smiled over at her and gestured to the table he’d saved for her.

Poppy’s eyes had drifted to Alistair so many times, she finally just sighed and turned her attention back to her e-reader. She was meant to be reading a book on traditional kombucha brewing.

“I need a large glass of wine,” Sera said as she plopped down next to her.

“I’ll get you one. What’s up?” Poppy said.

“Liberty’s parking the car. I promised I wouldn’t spill until she was here. She wants a large as well.”

“Should I get a bottle of rosé?”

“Definitely,” Sera said.

Sera was never like this. Standing, Poppy hugged her friend and then went to order a bottle of wine and three glasses from Von, one of the summer staff that worked at the tavern.

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