Page 8 of The Marrying Kind
“Yeah. Me and my brothers are building all the vacation cabins CJ told you about too.”
“Impressive. So, that’s what you do for work?”
“That’s just a side hustle,” he said as he leaned back into the cushions. “My main job is running the business side of a brewery I started with Noah a few years ago. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s named after our town.”
4
GETTING COZY
Austen
“Kodiak Canyon Ale?” Ella asked me. “I’ve not only heard of it; it’s one of my favorites. That’s sort of how I found this town, actually.”
“No kidding.” I managed to keep the smile from growing too big on my face as my ego puffed up my chest a few sizes. “Where are you from? We only distribute regionally, so you must be at least sort of local.”
“New Mexico. The southeast part.” She pulled a couch pillow over her stomach as she answered.
“Is it too cold in here?” I asked, realizing my space might be a little colder than she was used to. I’d been given shit for that before from people. I tended to run hot, so I liked to keep my house cool. “I can start a fire.”
“Oh, don’t go to any trouble,” she started to say, but I hopped up anyway.
“It’s no trouble. I’m not used to hosting. Which reminds me, can I get you something to drink?” I asked as I swung open the door to the woodstove and tossed a few logs inside. Thankfully, my mom had just made me a new batch of her amazing fire-starter pellets, so it was no effort to get the fire going.
“If it’s all right, I can grab a water from the kitchen,” Ella said.
“Make yourself at home,” I called back as I flicked the lighter.
I tried to not let myself enjoy the idea too much. Even though I had made a birthday wish not one month ago for a wife ... and then was talking about it at the tavern tonight right before she walked in.
If I were a person who believed in signs, it all might have felt too perfect. Instead, I reminded myself that, even though I’d just turned twenty-nine and was officially counting down the days until I hit thirty, that didn’t mean I could let myself go crazy.
“You want a water?” she called from the kitchen.
She sounded so natural that I might have let my imagination call back, “Thanks, honey.”
“Honey?” she asked, walking back into the living room with two waters in hand.
Shit. Did I say that out loud?
“Oh, uh, I meant I like honey in my water,” I said quickly to recover.
She quirked an eyebrow at me. “That’s ... different.”
“Coming from the girl who wants to ride an ostrich?” I said, meeting her eyes.
“Fair enough.” She smirked as she handed me the glass. “If you tell me where you keep the honey, I can add some to your water.”
I shook my head. “I’ll just have plain old water tonight after all.”
Smooth. Real smooth.
In my defense, it had been a long time since I had a woman come home with me after leaving the bar. It was especially confusing because this one just needed a place to crash. She wasn’t sticking around, wasn’t looking for a man to sweep her off her feet. Unless that happened to be on her bucket list, which somehow I doubted.
“What’s on your list that you wanted to cross off in Kodiak Canyon?” I asked as she snuggled in on my couch.
Ella smoothed her long hair in her hands, setting it across one shoulder. “I want to hike Mount Sneffels.”
“In the winter?” I said doubtfully, not that I wanted to be a dick and question her plans. Maybe she was an experienced mountain climber with a car full of expensive gear.
