Page 37 of OctoBEARfest

"I'd love that. What time do you wake up after a gig?"

"I told you. About three in the afternoon. Oh, all right. I can manage eleven or so. Even ten, if I absolutely have to, but I'd better get to sleep soon if that's going to happen."

"Saturday morning brunches are a thing around here," Bill admitted. "Ten is a lot easier to get a seat at a restaurant than eleven or twelve is."

"We could order room service."

He blinked at her, then, catching her meaning, blushed again. Gwen put her beer bottle down and reached up to scruff his chin, fingers tangled in his short beard. "I don't know if you've always blushed easily or if it's just me?—"

"It'sdefinitelyjust you."

Her smile widened. "But I love it. Is that a yes?"

Bill groaned and leaned in to put his forehead against hers like he'd done earlier. It was so effortlessly intimate it made her sigh, a soft contented sound, and a feeling inside her to match. "I would love to," he said reluctantly. "But there's still some stuff I need to tell you, and I'd rather you were completely sober for it, honestly."

Gwen leaned back, examining him. His dark gaze was soft, but quite certain. "It's that bad? Or is it me? Because don't take this wrong, but men don't usually turn me down twice."

He groaned again, though this one had some amusement in it. "No, I don't imagine they do, and I'm kind of kicking myself for doing it. It's not bad, and it's definitely not you, but I think once I've explained you'll agree sober is better. Even if you're not actually drunk."

She squinted at him, more mock-suspicious than really suspicious. "This isn't some kind of weird overprotective male thing, is it? Because that crap doesn't cut it with me."

"I'm not gonna say I'm not enjoying being the huge security guy at your back, but no, it's not like that. I promise. So can I drive you home, or should I let you go with your band?"

Gwen wrinkled her nose, then sighed. "I think I should go home with the band, because otherwise I'll try to persuade you to make bad choices. I like you," she added, suddenly feeling like it might not be obvious. "And I tend to be a go-after-what-I-like kind of person."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone like you," Bill murmured. "And I'm weak in the face of beautiful, persuasive women, so, all right. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast?"

"Perfect," Gwen said a bit wistfully. Getting laid after a great show would have been the ideal way to end the night. On the other hand, there was something a bit charming about Bill's insistence on talking about things first, whatever those things might be. "I, oh. I was about to give you my keys so you could just drive the Impala over in the morning, but you're nine feet tall and you'd have to move my seat back. You'll just have to bring me here after breakfast. Or, oh, wait! Do you hike?"

"I like to run around in the woods," Bill said in a funny tone.

Gwen beamed. "If we've got time after breakfast, maybe we can go for a little hill walk. It's good for me to get out of my head and move around some before a show. Especially one…" She trailed off, and Bill leaned in to give her a sudden, soft, unexpected kiss that made warmth spill through her whole body.

"Especially one that might be leading up to making some big life decisions. I'll bring canteens and some trail snacks and we'll hit my favorite trail after breakfast."

She felt her smile go as funny as his tone had been. "Are you for real, Bill Torben? Out here being the perfect guy?"

He ducked his head and glanced up again, expression oddly shy. "Would it be too corny if I said I hoped Iwasthe perfect guy for you?"

"No." She'd only known the man a day and a half, but Gwen felt more confident of that answer than she had of anything in her entire life. "No, I think that would be just about right. I don't know why, because that seems ridiculous, but there you have it."

"Maybe we'll figure it out tomorrow."

Breakfast was good;the hike up into the lower part of the mountains was better, with the autumn leaves just starting to go gold, and a brisker crispness to the air than was obvious in the town, only a few hundred feet lower. Bill brought Gwen up to a lookout, where she collapsed into a wooden bench slightly more dramatically than was necessary. But only slightly. A little breathlessly, she said, "I should hike more," and Bill shook his head, smiling.

"I've just watched you bounce around on stage for over two hours, two nights in a row. Your cardio must be amazing."

"Oh, it is, but only for flat surfaces. I don't do hills. You, on the other hand, are not only the size of a mountain, but can apparently just, like, waltz up them effortlessly."

"I have an advantage there." Bill sounded nervous enough that Gwen sat up from her dramatic collapse to smile at him.

"Is it that you live at the base of a mountain range and can go for a hike through the woods any time you want to?"

"No. Although, yes, that too, but…no. There's something I need to tell you about myself that will clarify it. Maybe. I think. Either that or you're going to run away screaming."

Gwen's eyebrows rose. "Wow. That's. Wow. I don't think I've ever had a guy say that to me before, and I've heard a lot of lines. For the record I'm not sure that's a great one."

Bill passed a hand through his hair, messing up his pompadour. "No, I guess it isn't. It's just, I said last night it was something to talk about and you should be sober?"

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