Page 15 of Pitcher Perfect

“I moved here a few weeks ago.”

“You live here now?” Austin’s eyes went wide.

I smiled. “Hardly makes sense to commute every day from Portland.”

Austin chuckled and shook his head. “My cousin was teasing me for not getting out enough. If I left the brewery once in a while, I might have found you sooner.” His cheeks turned crimson. “I mean saw you. Tried your food.”

I wished he would have found me earlier too. If we’d seen each other before the whole Portland Pairing thing, we might not have to worry about mixing business with pleasure. Though, Portland Pairing was really the only guaranteed way to spend time with him for the foreseeable future.

“My food truck pod disbanded when the landowner decided to develop it.”

Austin’s lips pinched, and he shook his head. “Infuriating. There was a small pod near my place before I moved, and the same thing happened there.”

I appreciated his understanding. Not everyone got that it wasn’t as easy as just parking somewhere else.

Austin’s mouth shifted into a teasing smile. “So instead of finding another pod, you decided to move to a small town toward the coast? Bold.”

Laughing, I rubbed the back of my neck. “My mom was born here, and we came back to visit a few times when I was a kid, so it holds a special place in my heart.”

Austin’s smile softened. “That’s awesome.” His expression grew more serious. “You’re not passing through?”

“Nope. I’m all in and taking this seriously. I’m not going to flake on you.”

It was like the entire town thought I was already packing my bags. I hoped he could see the sincerity on my face. It was asking a lot for us to trust each other. Most businesses that paired up to enter the competition had long-standing relationships.

There were probably easier ways to go about endearing myself to a town and convincing a local landlord to take a chance on me. But if I could position myself as someone to help bring notoriety to their town and a local brewery, surely they would not only want me to start a restaurant but welcome me with open arms.

I desperately wanted to be a part of a community that didn’t know me as one of those sad Larsen kids with the sick mom and the dad who was gone all the time. Pity had defined my childhood back home in Idaho, but in Dahlia Springs, I wanted to be known as a great cook, a nice guy, and a valued member of the community.

For a moment, I could have sworn I saw relief flash on his face.

Austin’s expression grew earnest. “I’m taking this seriously too. We all are.” He took a wistful look around the brewery. “This place is our future, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it succeed. Even if that means entering Portland Pairing.” His jaw flexed.

I wanted to ask what the deal was. When I first talked about it with Ethan and Tyler, they had mentioned something about having to convince Austin. It wasn’t my place to pry, but I hoped he would feel comfortable telling me someday.

I looked around the brewery. He should be damn proud of it. The space was a mix of wood and copper that felt modern and welcoming. A mix of about a dozen tall and short tables and a long bar with stools occupied the room. My favorite part was the evenly spaced row of colorful LGBTQ+ flags above the taps behind the bar.

“This is where the four of us want to end up.” Austin leaned back in his chair. “We used to joke about opening a brewery when we were in college together, but the dream somehow became real over the years.”

Friends since college?I was barely Facebook friends with most of my college friends. We’d scattered like birdshot after graduation.

I held out my hand. Probably a bit too formal, but there was a seriousness to Austin’s words that called for it. He took it. As our hands clasped, sparks shot up my arm like I’d accidentally jolted myself in my food truck again.

There wassomethingthere. I could work with something.Do I want to?Before showing up at the brewery, I would’ve said I didn’t have time to mess with anyone. Minutes ago I was talking myself into trying to squeeze my way into their friend group and leaving it at that. But with Austin sitting in front of me, smiling, pulling me in, I wasn’t so sure.

I didn’t know much about the man other than he was sexy, funny, passionate about his business, and cared about his friends. Hell, I knew less about most men before sucking them off in a club. Ours was at least a good foundation to work together, and if something more came from it as I settled in Dahlia Springs and after the competition ended, all the better.

I cleared my throat. “We’ve got two months to pull this off. Unless I need super specialty ingredients, my timeline is flexible. I imagine the beer production is going to dictate the timeline.” I waited for Austin to confirm. When he nodded, I continued. “Can you talk me through the process? We could establish milestone deadlines.”

“Milestone deadlines?” Austin fanned himself. “I’m impressed.”

“Didn’t expect me to be organized? Did you forget about my notebook addiction?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Owning notebooks does not make someone organized. There are tons of people who have collections growing dust.”

I laughed. “Fair enough.”

He rhythmically tapped his fingertips on the table. “I’m used to being the most organized person and getting teased for it.” Austin rolled his shoulders and leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him, making his forearm muscles flex.

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