Page 78 of A Secret Chance
“It does look like snow,” he agreed. The air was full of the swirling petals and he brushed one off his shoulder. “It smells a lot nicer though,” he added.
Tabitha buried her nose in the petals, nodded, then tossed them into the air and slid her hand back into Brock’s. They turned onto Main Street and Tabitha started to skip, jostling Brock’s hand. Never in a million years did he think he’d find such joy in the small things. The feel of a little palm holding onto his, the smell of spring, and the sense of belonging to a community. He had only lived in Chance Rapids for six months, but he’d never felt more at home.
“Brock,” Charlie shouted as he and Tabitha stepped onto the construction site. “Back here.”
“Careful, Tabby,” Brock said. He plunked a pink hard hat, one that he’d special ordered, onto her head. They made their way to the back of the soon-to-be brewery, stepping around piles of sawdust and electrical supplies.
There had been some growing pains when Brock first moved into Lauren’s house. The biggest challenge had been explaining why he’d been absent from Tabitha’s life for the first nine years. They had decided to go with the truth. He didn’t know and he couldn’t be found. He worried that she might be angry with him, but the girl didn’t have a resentful bone in her body. Maybe if they had waited until she was a teenager, she would’ve been dramatic about the whole thing, but all Tabitha wanted was a father in her life and he was happy to step into that role.
A loud miter saw screamed at the same time as a drill started up and Brock handed Tabitha an ear protection headset. “Really, Dad?” She rolled her eyes. He grabbed a second pair from the hook on the wall and put them on his own ears; teaching by example. Freddie was pulling wire through the steel studs and waved to the duo as they walked by.
Charlie was in the back office, a makeshift space with a folding table and a couple of worn leather chairs. “We made the news.” He slid a copy of the newspaper across the table showing Lauren, Brock, and Charlie’s photograph while at the ground-breaking ceremony last month; Lauren’s foot on the shovel as the rest of them posed with their thumbs up.
From the first taste of Charlie’s brew, Brock knew that it was a winner, and their first small batch collaboration, A Snowball’s Chance, had won the state Brewmaster award. From there they decided to become partners; Charlie would handle the beermaking and Brock would take care of the business side. Thus, the Chance Rapids Brewhouse was born.
Brock jumped as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see the beautiful smile of his fiancée. “Hi, baby.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. He didn’t think there would ever be a day that he would tire of kissing Lauren.
“Ewww.” Tabitha wrinkled her nose and ran off to tour the brewhouse with Charlie.
Lauren and Brock were both early risers, and with a kid in the house, had adapted to making love sweetly and quietly in the hours before dawn. This morning he had been having an amazing dream about sky diving, something he’d always wanted to do. The adrenaline had been surging through his body, and sky diving felt like the most amazing thing he’d ever done. He had slowly been roused from his dream to realize that his fiancée’s lips around his cock had provided the sensation for his dream, and the excitement of sky diving paled in comparison to the reality of coming hard and fast with Lauren’s green eyes staring up at him. He had practically ripped the post of her bed in half holding in his groan as his cock twitched between her lips. She had kissed him and left him panting in bed.
“Thanks for this morning,” he whispered in her ear.
She smacked him on the arm and pulled one of the earmuffs from his head, “You’re yelling.” Her face was flushed red. Lauren presented as a prude, and Brock loved the fact that only he knew what a wildcat she was in the bedroom. He pulled her back in tightly and nipped her ear. “I’ll get you back later.” He looked around and then slapped her ass. She shot him a look, but he knew that she loved it. He let his hand rest on the curve of her lower back. “Did you see the article?”
“I did,” she said. She took the paper from his hand and folded it in half.
“Wait, I didn’t get the chance to read it,” he said.
“No need. It just said the usual stuff.” She shoved the paper into her overflowing leather briefcase and bit her lower lip. That’s when Brock knew that she was hiding something from him. He snatched the paper out of her bag. The front page featured the article about the brewery, no big deal there. He opened the paper and saw his name in the headline of a story on the second page:Caldwell fights back. His eyes scanned the article, it wasn’t about him. It was about his father. Caldwell International’s application had been defeated, but somehow his father had managed to escape the racketeering charges.
“Do you think he’ll try again?” Lauren asked.
Brock shook his head. “I don’t know. But if that son a bitch tries anything, he’ll have to go through me.”
Since severing ties with Caldwell International, Brock had only communicated with his father through his solicitor, Barry Birkner. He had been prepared to walk away from everything for Lauren, and she was willing to take his sorry broke ass, just the way he was. They had both been shocked when they found out that Brock’s mom had out-savvied his dad, and that half of Caldwell’s billion-dollar fortune was Brock’s. That week the Conservation Authority received an anonymous million-dollar donation and the idea for the craft brewery and restaurant was born.
Lauren took the paper from his hands and reached around to grab his ass in both of her hands, pulling his hips to hers. Instant hard-on. She squeezed. Raging hard-on. She winked at him, “You know it gets me turned on when you talk like that.” She slapped his ass and then stepped away. “Got to get to work,” she grinned.
“You...” He adjusted himself in his pants and rubbed the stinging spot on his butt. He pursed his lips at the little tease.
She started to walk away but turned as if she’d forgotten something. “Did you see that they’ve started renovating the shop next door?”
“I saw that there was paper on the windows. Do you know what’s going in there?” he asked.
Charlie and Tabitha returned to the office. “Going in where?” Charlie asked.
“The space next door. Lauren said that they’ve started renovations.”
“Better not be a brewery,” Charlie muttered.
The drilling paused. “Flower shop,” Freddie yelled.
“Come on, really?” Charlie laughed. “A flower shop? That will last five minutes.”
“Hopefully, at least ten,” a soft voice said. Everyone turned to look at the front door. A petite blond woman had opened the door and stood halfway inside the building. “I was just coming to introduce myself.”
Charlie sucked in his breath next to Brock. The man was his business partner and Brock had never seen him be anything but calm and collected.
