Page 13 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

"Excellent beer."

I snort a laugh. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"That a promise?"

Before I can formulate a response that isn't embarrassingly needy, he pulls out a small notebook. It's worn leather, pages crowded with notes.

"What are you doing?"

"Occupational hazard." He jots something down, and I lean over to peek. His handwriting is surprisingly elegant, describing flavor notes and possible brewing techniques. "Been keeping journals like this since I was eighteen."

"A good brewer learns from every pint," we say together.

His grin is devastating up close. This near, his scent overwhelms me and makes my Omega hindbrain whispermate. I straighten quickly, heart pounding.

"Another?" I gesture to his nearly empty glass, proud my voice remains steady.

"Actually..." His eyes intensify with a challenge. "I've heard interesting things about your Midnight Pine. Word is it's the best porter in three counties."

My stomach drops. "Ah."

"Something wrong?"

"We might be temporarily out." I glance at the tap that was running low earlier. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

"There might be some in the basement. We keep extra supplies down there, but..." I bite my lip, remembering Ash mentioning a delivery.

"But?"

"But I'd have to check. Give me two secs." I round the bar and head over to his side of the bar as he's sitting right next to the door into the basement.

He stands, and suddenly, he's so close I can feel his body heat.

All I sense is that damned anticipation again. Like every cell in my body is pulling toward him. I reach for the door, wrestling to yank the stubborn thing open.

"That door sticks," I murmur.

He reaches past me, arm brushing mine, and the contact sends electricity shooting through my veins.

"Allow me."

The door opens easily under his strength. The stairs descend into warm darkness, and as I take the first step, his scent curls around me like a promise.

Or a warning.

The basement's warm darkness embraces me when I look back and notice he's joining me.

Warning bells should be ringing. An Alpha, alone in my basement? Instead, my body buzzes with wild abandonment.

Garrett's hand brushes the small of my back, steadying me on the narrow stairs, and that simple touch sends sparks through my entire body. The scent of aged wood and stored beer mingles with his increasingly intoxicating Alpha presence.

"Watch your step," he murmurs.

"Are you going to catch me again?" I tease. "Though I am fully capable of looking after myself."

"I know you are," he answers.

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