Page 7 of Brewing Up Christmas

Nolan was behind the bar, wiping down a set of pint glasses. He looked up as Eli entered, a questioning look on his face. “You’re back early. Thought you were off until closing?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got another mission,” Eli muttered, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a nearby chair.

“Another mission, huh?” Nolan raised an eyebrow, setting the glass down. “Let me guess... more Christmas spirit nonsense?”

“Something like that,” Eli grumbled. “Angelina wants this place decked out like some sort of holiday wonderland. Lights around the beams, a Christmas book display... maybe even a tree by the jukebox.”

Nolan chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve been meaning to put up the decorations, but it’s been a hell of a week. Could use the help.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Eli shot back, though there was a small crack of amusement in his voice. “Let’s just get this over with.”

An hour later, the two of them were up on ladders, wrapping strands of twinkling lights around the longwooden beams that stretched across the ceiling of the bar and bookstore. Nolan worked efficiently, occasionally humming along to the Christmas music playing softly in the background, while Eli focused on not getting tangled in the lights.

“This isn’t so bad,” Nolan said after a while, stepping down from the ladder to admire their work. “Looks pretty good, actually.”

Eli shrugged, though he couldn’t deny that the space was starting to feel more festive. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, golden hue over the wooden shelves, the twinkle reflecting off the glass mugs behind the bar. It was... cozy. Not that Eli would admit it out loud.

“All right, let’s get that tree,” Nolan said, clapping Eli on the shoulder. “Boy Scouts still have that stand set up down the block?”

“Yeah,” Eli grunted. “Let’s go.”

They made their way to the Boy Scout tree stand, where a few scouts, bundled up against the cold, were helping customers pick out the perfect tree. After a brief discussion, Nolan and Eli settled on a tree that wasn’t too tall but was wide enough to make a statement. They hoisted it up and carried it back to Harbor Craft, setting it up beside the old jukebox in the corner.

“Perfect,” Nolan said, stepping back to admire their handiwork. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a real Christmas scene in here.”

Eli crossed his arms, eyeing the now-familiar Christmas spirit meter that had appeared just above the tree. The red liquid inside bubbled and jumped, shooting up 100 points in an instant. Eli let out a slow breath, his arms still crossed, as he glanced at the meter, feeling both resigned and slightly amused.

“Well, that’s done,” Eli said, brushing pine needles off his hands. “I’ll leave the finishing touches to you.”

Nolan chuckled, waving him off. “I can handle it from here. Thanks for the help.”

After finishing up, Eli made his way out the back door of the brewery, the cold night air hitting him full force as he stepped outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets, ready to call it a night, when a familiar figure appeared in the shadows near the alley.

Angelina.

She leaned against the brick wall, her coat wrapped tightly around her, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips as she watched him approach. The wind pickedup, swirling her dark hair around her face, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“You’ve been busy,” she said, her voice low and smooth, her eyes glinting in the dim light.

Eli stopped in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat as he met her gaze. There was something about the way she looked at him—like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Your little meter thing jumped another 100 points,” Eli muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

Angelina’s smile widened. “I noticed. You’ve done well.”

Eli stood there, unsure of what to say. He felt a strange pull toward her, something deeper than just the magic that had bound them together. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly on the pavement as she closed the distance between them.

“I’m staying at the Gingerbread Cottage,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. “Why don’t you come with me?”

Eli swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to keep his distance, to stay focused on the mission, but the rest of him—the part that had been drawn to her from the moment she walked into the brewery—couldn’t resist.

Without a word, he followed her through the quiet streets, the wind howling around them as they made their way to the bed and breakfast next to Seaside Café. The Gingerbread Cottage was charming, with its old-fashioned charm and twinkling holiday lights, but Eli barely noticed as they slipped inside.

That night, in the quiet warmth of Angelina’s room at the Gingerbread Cottage, the air was thick with anticipation. The glow of soft, twinkling Christmas lights outside filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns across the walls. It felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them, everything else fading into the background.

Angelina’s touch was electric, her fingers grazing Eli’s skin with a mix of tenderness and urgency that sent shivers down his spine. She guided him toward the bed, her eyes never leaving his, that playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Every movement felt deliberate, like she was savoring each moment, drawing out the tension between them.

Eli could hardly think straight, his mind fogged by the intensity of her presence. She pulled him down onto the bed with her, laughter bubbling up between them as they stumbled together, their bodies tangling in the sheets. The sound of their laughter filled the room, mixing withthe rhythmic creak of the bed as they moved together, lost in the passion of the moment.

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