Page 13 of OctoBEARfest

"…bear the lion in its den?" Gwen's eyebrows went higher. "You know, I don't even know what that phrase means, exactly. Or I know what itmeans, obviously, but why beard?" She took her phone out, looking it up, and made a cheerful sound. "Oh! Kind of a combination of, like, grabbing you by the scruff to make you face the music," which she actually did, lifting her hand to curl it in the coarse hairs of Bill's short beard. He swallowed and covered her hand with his, making her noticewhat she'd done, and she was suddenly gazing up at him with those pale eyes swallowed by the darkness of her pupils. She wet her lips, and he had the incredible urge to bend and kiss her.

Before he could, Gwen said, "I'm so sorry," faintly, and tried to uncurl her fingers. He let her go immediately, his heart hammering at the missed opportunity, and she ducked her head, color staining her cheeks before she glanced back up again. "I really amsosorry," she mumbled again. "I'm a pretty touchy-feely person but not usually with people I don't know well. I've had my hands all over you all day and it's really rude. I'mverysorry and I'll try not to do it anymore."

"It's okay," Bill said in a rush over the last words of her apology. "I really don't mind. I'm not used to it. I'm big and people usually try to avoid me. But I don't mind."

"Still." Her smile was embarrassed. "Still, I'll try not to be so weird. Anyway, it's partly 'beard' because grabbing you—grabbingsomeone—by the beard is a way to draw their attention, and partly because I guess people maybe used to use 'beard' to mean 'face' so it's kind of a pun, face the lion in its den. I never heard 'bear the lion in its den' before, though. Oh, you probably meant beard the bear in its den." She laughed, letting her embarrassment drain away. "I'm not sure about that, though. Bearding the bear in his den sort of sounds like being the fake girlfriend for the big gay guy when he goes home." Her eyes suddenly went round. "Oh. Do you need that kind of beard?"

"No!" Bill's voice rose so fast it nearly broke on the single, short syllable. "No, no! God, of all the various problems with my family, that's not one of them. I'm straight, but they wouldn't care if I brought home a boyfriend. I mean, they'd be really confused, because I'm straight, but…"

Maybe, his bear suggested,you should stop talking now.

That, Bill thought, was averygood idea.

Gwen was grinning up at him, all her own embarrassment clearly forgotten. "Good."

"Which part?"

Her grin got wider. "All of it. Especially that you're straight, though." As Bill's heart soared, she added, "Look, I gotta go back to the pub to get my guitar, if nothing else. If youdoneed to talk to your family and need backup, I'm happy to help."

"I just want them to know it's all under control."

Gwen reached for his hand, then, clearly remembering her promise to stop touching him so much, pulled hers back again, much to Bill's disappointment. "And it is. C'mon, big man. Let's go prove it to them."

CHAPTER 9

Gwen hadn't really thought Bill was gay, although there'd been a moment there where she'd been shocked at the crushing dismay she'd felt at the idea he might be. He had kind of a weird thing about bears—the comment about bearding a bear in his den had been the second one he'd made about them in the few hours she'd known him—butfond of wildlifedidn't even rank in the list of strange things her exes had been into. Maybe there was a bear rescue or sanctuary near Renaissance. That would make sense, with it being at the foot of the Colorado mountains, and Bill seemed like the kind of guy who might volunteer somewhere like that.

He kept saying thank you as they drove back to the pub, until Gwen had to put her hands up, palm out, like she was creating a physical wall. "Look, you don't have to thank me. I want this weekend to go well, too. It doesn't do either of us any good if it's a bust, so if it helps, you can think of me doing this gig at the Harlequin as covering my own ass, okay? Trust me, I've played for audiences who didn't want me there before, and it's no fun."

"Okay. It's just…" Bill shook his head, then nodded, and more firmly, said, "Okay. No more apologizing. Sorry."

There was a pause, and, at the stoplight, Bill briefly put his forehead against the steering wheel. Gwen started laughing, and when Bill lifted his head, he said, wryly, "I guess I'm bad at stopping apologizing. S?—"

Gwen hooted laughter again as Bill clamped his mouth shut on another apology. She was still grinning as they pulled into the pub's parking lot, finding a space markedstaffto park in. "You said your parents were driving up from Arizona? That's a long drive."

"Twelve hours or so, but Mom doesn't like flying. They got an EV as soon as they came on the market and they've driven pretty much everywhere since. I just have to…" Bill killed the engine and sat there a moment, staring at the pub's log-cabin walls. "I haven't really told them that things aren't going so well. They entrusted the business to me, and I'm just running it into the ground."

"Are you really?" Gwen asked quietly. "Is it that bad, or is it just not as good as it used to be?"

He wobbled a hand, still gazing at the building. "The brewery is doing really well. My younger brother Steve, the one who moved out to New York a few years ago, he's actually helped us expand across the upstate area there. People've really gone for our IPAs. And we reached market saturation in Colorado a while back so we've been expanding into the Pacific Northwest and starting to reach toward the east, too, and—" He broke off abruptly. "I'm good at that. I like that. The pub…I'm not good at running it. I thought I would be. How different could it be?"

Gwen laughed, hoping it didn't sound mean. "How different could running a pub be from running a brewery? I think they sound likecompletelydifferent skills, Bill."

He gave her a startled look, blinked, and managed to look more surprised than he had before the blink. "I…I guess I hadn't thought of it that way? It's all our beer, after all."

"And your other brothers? The one I met, Laurie, and…Jon, did you say his name was? What are they good at?"

"They run the pub at the Faire every year. Not just here in Renaissance, but all over. It's part of how we've expanded into other states. They're great at it, but they want to do it at Faire, not here, stuck in one place day in and day out."

Gwen pursed her lips. "Well, something's going to have to change, isn't it? Either they have to step up or you have to find somebody else to run the pub so you can do the thing you're good at."

"But that's just it, that's where I'm failing my folks." Bill gave his head a big hard shake. "Look, though, you don't need to get caught up in all of this. I'm going to drag you down, and you've got shows to do all weekend."

"I have this strange desire to be caught up in all of it," Gwen admitted with a smile. "I don't have much family, so maybe I find it all weirdly compelling." Or maybe she found Bill Torben compelling, although not at all weirdly. The big man with his dramatic pompadour hair justdelightedher, and she wanted him to be happy even if she'd only known him a few hours. "Think your parents will be here before I have to be back at the Harlequin?"

"Maybe." Bill eyed her. "God, you're not proposing to meet my parents already, are you?"

Gwen laughed. "I guess I am. Don't worry, I'll try not to embarrass you."

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