Page 13 of Off Limits
Chapter Seven
Brady
Brady unlocked the brewery door and shuffled into the building. He should have taken the day off. Fatigue settled over him. Late night, minimum sleep, and relatively early morning had caught up with him. He should be wrapped up in bed with Jane enjoying the first morning of the year. Instead, he’d snuck out of her house and now brooded like a child who had his candy snatched.
He stalked behind the bar and poured himself a pint of the IPA. Hair of the dog and all. Yeah, he’d had a few drinks last night but his hangover wasn’t from alcohol.
It washer.
The memory of Jane, the things they’d done, played on a loop in his head like a film he couldn’t shut off. Heat flared through his body, but his chest clenched tight.
She was a god damned seductress and he fell for her hook, line and sinker. The tension between them had finally snapped, and he’d leapt off the edge like a man with nothing to lose. Minimal hesitation. Very little thought of the fallout.
She brought out a version of him he hadn’t known existed. His past with women was simple: one night, maybe two. He made sure it was good for them—better than good—but that was it. No strings. No addiction.
But Jane? She was different. She unraveled him. She made him want more. Need more.
For the first time in his life, walking away didn’t feel like an option. And this—this—was the one situation where walking away was the only choice he had.
He carried his pint into the office and started in on some work. Crunching some numbers might be the only thing that cleared his head. Either that or going for a run. But after last night’s workout with Jane, he didn’t think his legs would support him for more than a half of a mile.
“How long have you been here?” Taylor said, peeking into the office.
He startled. The jerk of his hand on the keyboard knocked the empty pint glass to the floor and it shattered. “Motherfucker.” He leaned back in the chair and huffed out an exaggerated breath. Then he glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. The brewery would be opening soon. Work had accomplished what he’d hoped and taken his mind off Jane. “Almost an hour.” He sputtered.
“Whoa! How did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed to start the year off?” Taylor chuckled. He left the doorway and reappeared with a broom and dustpan. He swept the shards of glass into a pile.
“You scared the shit of out of me.” Brady said. He stood and took the dustpan before bending to have Taylor push the glass into it.
“It’s not like I was quiet on my entrance. I think I was even singing—rather loudly, I might add—some Ozzy Osbourne on the way in.” Taylor held up the trash bin and Brady poured the contents of the dustpan into the trash. “Plus, you look like hell.”
“Thanks.” He slid his fingers through his already unruly hair. “I love you too.” He collapsed back in his chair and rested his head against the back.
“Did something happen?” Taylor sat in the leather pub chair in front of the desk.
He wanted to tell Taylor about Jane. He needed to tell someone. But telling Taylor would put him in a bad spot because he’d have to keep it a secret from Rex and he’d hate that.
“Nah. Just rough night.”
“When I left last night, you didn’t seem in bad spirits.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Did something happen with Jane?”
His breath lodged and he glanced wide-eyed at Taylor. “What makes you say that?”
