Page 7 of Love Is Ale You Need

Shit. This went sideways, fast. I swear herding cats would be easier than keeping these guys on track.

Trey

Thursday. Porter’s. See everyone then.

I mute the group text to let them finish playing Betty Crocker and tuck my phone into my pocket. Since my original mission was a failure, let’s try Plan B. I swivel my stool around and take in the crowd. There is a plethora of women here and I’m sure I could have my pick of any of them. No reason to waste my effort in coming here tonight. I make a sweeping glance over one face and then another. Soon enough, I’ve scanned the entire bar, twice over, and nothing. They’re all just faceless women. None of them are the feisty brunette that seems to have embedded herself into my thoughts. I huff out a deep breath. Spinning around, I guzzle the rest of my beer, throw some cash under my glass, and push it toward the rail. I guess I’ll be cuddling with myself tonight.

FOUR

EIGHTY-FIVE-FIFTEEN

Rylee

“Son of a bitch!” Jake’s booming voice sounds from his office, almost rattling the liquor bottles off the shelves.

Nora and I glance at each other. Her eyes are wide, but this isn’t anything new from Jake, especially since he passed on some of his responsibilities to Chad.

“Don’t worry about him. He may seem big and scary, but he’s more like a giant teddy bear... mostly.” An alive, feral teddy bear. I keep that to myself though, so I don’t scare off the new hire. I pull two beer bottles from a cardboard case and set them in a cooler. “Finish stocking these. I’ll see what the problem is.” I dry my hands on a towel before spinning around and strolling down the length of the bar until I reach the hallway. Low grumbles and the slamming of a fist into a file cabinet flows through the open doorway. I peek my head through the opening to ensure the coast is clear before fully committing myself. Jake’s sitting behind his desk. Stacks of papers are scattered in front of him as he rubs his temples.

Moving a step inside, I lean against the doorframe. “I would ask if everything was alright, but the raging Hulk sounds coming out of your office tells me otherwise. So, what’s up?”

Jake’s hardened eyes meet mine as deep frown lines etch into his forehead. “How hard is it to count? One. Two. Three. Four. Write it on a piece of fucking paper.”

I slink through the doorway now that it's evident the anger isn’t directed toward me and take a seat in the pleather armchair across from him. “Let me guess, Chad messed up the ordering again.”

“For the third week in a row. I can't explain it. He was a model employee, then after I gave him a promotion, that he asked for, everything goes to shit. I can’t keep double checking his work because I might as well just do it myself.” He scrubs his hand down his face. “Wait. Didn’t you say you went to college for business?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t graduate.” I was in my third year and then life threw me into a tailspin, and I’ve never been able to fully recover. Before he can ask any more questions, I hold out my hand. “Here, let me see.”

He passes me the paperwork of what was ordered and what was delivered. From a quick glance everything between the two papers appears correct, so that’s not the issue. Then I see it. I don’t even need to go look. “He’s over ordering all the bar garnishes. We don’t go through two cases of limes in a week. Over half of this is getting thrown out.” With the papers in hand, I storm out of his office and into the storage room. By the brief inspection, I can tell he’s not even paying attention to anything he’s ordering.

Jake steps up next to me and I pass him the papers. “There are already eight bottles of this brand of vodka. Why is he ordering more? Rail vodka, sure, but not the top shelf stuff.”

“More importantly, where is he putting it?”

Both of us dig through the entire shelf to count all the bottles until we find the extra sitting on the whiskey shelf, which threw off the count for the entire second shelf. After some rearranging, Jake and I were able to gather the accurate tally of everything.

“Thanks Rylee. I was five seconds away from losing my shit.”

“Lose it? Based on the yelling earlier, it’s long gone.” I flash him a smile. He gives me a half nod, half shrug, which is practically a smile in Jake’s book. “I’m surprised Nora didn’t hightail it out the front door. I’m going to see if they’re finished stocking up front.”

I exit the storage room and as soon as I’m behind the bar, a familiar face is staring back at me. His smile is somewhat charming. Okay, a lot charming. Half devilish. Half boyish. It’s devoyish. I stride toward him. His piercing gaze locks onto mine. The way he’s looking at me right now sends a bolt of lightning straight between my thighs. I can’t control it. And I can’t deny it. But he can’t know it either.

I come to a stop in front of him and rest my palms on the bar top. “Another boy scout meeting today?”

A hearty laugh escapes him, but then he leans in and whispers, “I assure you, there’s nothing boy about me.”

“So, man scouts?” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

He lets out another boisterous laugh. “Actually, it’s our weekly Single Bros. Life meeting.” He leans back, resting an elbow on the backrest.

“Oh. Well then. Does the bro need a beer?”

“Yes, please.”

“At least you have manners.”

He flashes me a dimpled grin and there goes the lightning bolt to the lady bits again. I shake the thought away and reach next to me to grab a glass. While pouring his beer, I glance at him from the corner of my eye and our gazes connect. Quickly, I look away, warmth spreading over my cheeks as I pray he didn’t catch me. When the beer reaches the rim, I set it down. Reaching over, I snatch a straw, drop it in the pint glass, and push it toward him. “I’m fresh out of sippy cups.”

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