Page 54 of Golden Hour

Do I want to be a dad? Is that something still in the cards for me?

I didn’t really think about it until now.

Frankly, since I started spending time with Shiloh.

When we discuss Christmas gifts, Reid and I tell our family that we have Shiloh’s present taken care of. Reid confirms, since we’ve discussed it.

My entire family’s heads snap to me. Reid nods at me, and we steer the conversation away, far away, that I have an idea for one employee only.

Reid and I discussed it last week over some Macallan. Since then, Reid’s been deep in research mode, his favorite mode. I found money in the budget, and we’re doing it. Shiloh hasn’t been clear on how long she’s staying; however, I’m hoping to change the brewery in honor of her.

My mother makes an off-handed comment later in the meeting, when Shiloh’s name comes up and I smile at the mention of her name.

“You’re smiling. Is there something going on?” she asks, and the corners of my mouth drop.

I love my mother, but her memory is as short as a goldfish’s.

“Is this meeting over?” I ask.

“I think so.” They all look at me as I nod once and leave the table.

Storming off, I clench my fists, walking inside the brewery. The brewery is empty; it’s hours until we open. My first instinct is to grab a beer to calm my nerves, but that won’t fix anything. All I need is a couple breaths, and I will be fine.

I walk to my office, my sanctuary, and close the door. I look at the Post-it note Shiloh left yesterday.

Thank you so much for the cookie, Wally! You’re the best. Sunny

She wrote the words in black ink and drew a tiny heart by her nickname in red. It’s adorable, and I put it on my shelf without thinking, even securing it with tape.

I stick the note back where I put it, smoothing it against the shelf so it will stick. My pinkie touches the heart and I study it before I take out my to-do list for the day to start pounding out today’s tasks.

I lose myself in work, typing away. Eleven, our opening time, passes, and I know Shiloh is here for her shift. Usually, I would wander out and say hello, say a joke to get a smile. Maybe secure a hug if no one is watching.

Today, I stay put.

I can stay away from her. Friends can go a full day without seeing each other. However, if she comes by my office, I will turn around and talk if she wants to. If she texts me about her lunch break, I will one hundred percent go.

I’m on my last to-do list item for the day when Emily walks in around one-thirty. My stomach growls and my throat is dry, but I’m so focused that my sister has to punch me in the shoulder.

“What?” I say, turning around.

“You might want to come out to the taproom.”

“Why?” I ask.

“There’s this guy here for Shiloh. I think he’s an ex. He won’t leave. I think she needs you.”

I gnash my teeth together. “Is his name Mark?”

“I think so,” Emily says. I push my sleeves up and explode out of my chair.

That motherfucker is going to get a piece of my mind.

She follows me. “Is he bad news?”

“We’ll find out,” I say.

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