Page 57 of Pitcher Perfect

Understandable, given he’d basically been pawned off on his extended family as a kid, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud.

Before the mood tanked, I offered a redirection. “Could you use the competition beer for your winter ale? It fits winter flavors. If we happen to do well, couldn’t that be the double promo? Selling the beer that was in the competition that’s also only available for a limited time as a seasonal drink?”

Austin’s eyes widened. For several long moments, it looked like the computer in his brain had the spinning wheel of death. “Yeah. That makes so much sense.” He cupped my cheeks and brought me in for a quick, hard kiss. “You’re brilliant.”

“I like to think so.” I smirked and kissed him again.

I bet if he’d talked to the other guys about it, one of them would have suggested the same thing. It was becoming clear that Austin didn’t like to rely on other people or go to them with his problems. I made it my mission to be someone he could count on.

CHAPTER18

AUSTIN

Team Tap That Group Text

Austin:okay. Who am I murdering? [photo of Austin in the beer costume taped under a toilet seat lid]

Ethan:[gif of man touching a finger to his nose]

Dom:do you really have to ask? Not it

Ty:[grinning demon emoji]

Austin:I NEARLY SHAT MYSELF

Ty:if you’re gonna shit yourself anywhere, by a toilet seems like the best place

Austin:I hate you and payback’s a bitch, Tyler

Dom:oooh using the full name

* * *

“Didyou pick this week’s dinner theme just so you could throw some frozen meatballs in a Crock-Pot with barbecue sauce?” Dom lifted the slow cooker lid and somehow managed to both glower at its contents and glare at Ty simultaneously.

“No,” Ty said indignantly.

“Yes,” Ethan and I replied in unison.

“I’m not complaining. I love barbecue meatballs,” I said.

“When you said our meeting dinner would be our favorite appetizers, I’d hoped forsomeeffort. Pinwheels, at least.” Dom pulled his bajillion-layer dip from the fridge.

I drooled at the sight. Dom made a killer dip.

“What are pinwheels?” Ty looked between us.

“The rolled things with cream cheese and deli meat on tortillas.” Ethan lifted the top off a fluffy, round loaf of sourdough, hollowed it, and dropped a container of spinach dip inside.

Ty pulled a face. “I hate cream cheese unless it’s in cheesecake.”

“Now I wish I would’ve made pinwheels,” Dom said in a deadpan tone.

“You wound me.” Ty clutched at his heart.

We dished up the random assortment of appetizers and grabbed beer from the fridge, then moved to the meeting room for the work part of the evening. We chatted about Mabel’s latest attempts to get us more involved in the chamber and some scandal with Wendy allegedly pissing off the Dahlia Springs Downtown Association chair with a complaint about the lack of foliage along Main Street. Small towns were never boring.

While Dom and Ty debated details for a Labor Day promotion, I texted Caleb.

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