Page 41 of Some Like It Hops

“No,” I practically shout. “Sorry. No, um, just pull around the back. We can park back there.”

His brow furrows as he watches me in the mirror, but he follows my directions, pulling to the back of the brewery. “Hang on.” He turns quickly and leaves the parking lot without even looking for a spot, then drives down a long road through neighboring industrial plazas, and pulls into an empty lot. He parks under the shade of a large oak tree, throws the car into park, and opens the door. He climbs out, pulls the seat forward, and reaches a hand in.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here,” he says.

I place my hand in his and allow him to pull me from the car, tugging me flush against his body and turning so I’m leaning against the car again.

He searches my gaze, his thumb rubbing back and forth over my jaw. “What’s wrong?”

I sigh, my shoulders relaxing a bit. “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Everything’s perfect.”

“But…”

My eyes start to tingle. Then embarrassment tightens my cheeks. I can’t believe I’m about to cry over this. What kind of person gets everything they want and then cries about it?

“Charlie, look at me.”

I look up at him and a tear spills from my eye. I laugh awkwardly and swipe at it. “I can’t believe I’m crying.”

“You’re scared.”

I nod.

“Did you see all those cars? It’s a packed house.”

“Exactly.” I snort. Super attractive.

“When I opened my first brewery, I was scared to death.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Really. I was just this punk MX kid who couldn’t stay out of trouble, who sucked at just about everything, dropped out of high school, never bothered with college…”

My eyes widen. Safe to say I knewnoneof this about him.

“But you know, by some freak of nature or an act of god, or whatever, I was really damn good at this one thing.”

I tilt my head. “Beer?”

Griffin nods.

“I didn’t know any of that about you. The motocross, school…”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He smooths my hair away from my face, then rubs his thumb under my eye, wicking away the moisture there.

“You’re a closed book.” The internet is chockfull of too much information. Just not where Griffin’s concerned. Rumors and tabloids in abundance, but who knows what’s real and what’s not where that’s concerned?

“Guilty.” His lips quirk up to one side. “I don’t want to be. Not with you.”

I push up onto my toes to kiss him gently. When I pull back, he smiles.

“What would make tonight better?”

I search his gaze, considering. Pops whines from inside the car, reminding me that I not only have this beautiful man in front of me, but the dog who started the whole thing, the best friend inside waiting for me, and the most supportive family a girl could ever ask for.

“Nothing,” I finally say. And it’s the truth.

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