Page 29 of Harvest Brew With the Mountain Man
“So, I’ve been told,” he grins. “But, come on. Daniella, I provided an excellent carved liquor glass last year.” There’s that West charm.
“One could call it a glass,” she teases, scrunching up her face.
“You wound me. That’s it. Gauntlet’s been set. Bring it on, Lane,” he faces me, pushing up his sleeves.
“Oh, you want to bruise your precious ego, Hero?” I face Daniella. “Point us to Jenkins’ booth. I need supplies before we pick out a pumpkin.”
Daniella is enjoying this too much. “Right this way, you two.” She heads north, and we follow.
The aromas from booth to booth bring up a myriad of childhood memories of cider, pumpkins, sweet potato, and pecan pies. To think I wanted to get away from this small town. Only, when I finally did, all those years away made me miss it more.
“This is where Nora has you assigned, West. Anything you need, just let me know,” Daniella says, marking the tent on her tablet.
“Thanks, Daniella.” He leans in to faux whisper. “Watch my back, okay. Nora has it out for me, threatening porta-potty adjacency.”
She laughs. “All talk. Nora grumbles your name while speaking nothing but good things. You’re safe,” she winks. “Alright. Jenkins is on the other end. He already delivered a truckful of pumpkins into the patch behind his booth. So, hurry before the good ones are gone.”
With that, she dismisses herself and runs to continue her and Nora’s Autumn empire. Smiling, I face West, wanting so bad to hug him.
“I’m so excited. What’s your plan for the booth?” I ask, surveying the table and space. We can totally utilize leftoverelements to decorate here as a teaser to what the bar will look like.
“Your mind is going a mile a minute already. I can see it,” West chuckles. “For the last three years, I’ve worked with Nash and Ezra on creating a new seasonal brew to reveal. With that, we feature Hunter family whiskey reserves and some local brewery IP sponsors.”
“We should upgrade your glorious whiskey glass pumpkin design, really lure in tourists.”
“Are you knocking my pumpkin, Nyx? You weren’t even here to see it. For all you know, it was spectacular.”
“Oh, Hero, you’ve seen nothing yet,” I grin, then watch in awe as the nickname has an instant effect, softening his features, tempting me to kiss that haunting bottom lip.
“Let’s go, Nyx, before I do something that’ll get tongues wagging.” West reaches instinctively for my hand but stops himself before contact. Sighing, he tips his head toward Jenkins, and we head over.
I hate this. I don’t want to overthink or hold back from touching West. I want to lean a hundred percent into exploring this dynamic, rare connection. Some may thrive on the forbidden thrill of keeping up appearances in public. Nope. Can’t be me. I want to pounce and rub my scent all over this man. Especially with the looks some of the women in town are giving him.
They’re closer to his age. None of them is related to anyone close to him. It would be so much easier for him.
His lips brush my ear. “What’s with the scowl, Little Pixie?”
Was I? I hit him with wide, innocent eyes. “Me? You must be mistaken. Sun’s in your eyes.” I keep walking, holding my head high.
That deep rumble from his chest when he laughs is addictive. The tingles down my back tempt my core.
“Hi, West,” Jackie waves, sending a flirty smile.
“Afternoon,” he waves with his charismatic smile. “Grandmother’s chili?” he points to her table.
“You know it! Coming for a taste later?”
That. Bitch.
“He can’t,” I answer automatically, a green monster on my shoulder taking over my vocal cords.
I pat his stomach. “Poor guy here’s been having tummy issues. Not that your chili’s that spicy, but it’s heavy on the beans.”
Jackie’s eyes narrow at the multiple veiled insults before batting her eyes back up to West. “Poor guy, indeed. I’ll stop by and bring you a soup broth. Get you right as rain in no time.”
West stands fighting a smirk as he relaxes with his hands in his pockets. “That’s kind of you, Jackie. Perhaps another time. Got a busy day getting this beautiful woman here to carve me an assload of pumpkins.” His arm rests over my shoulders, pulling me in closer.
Jackie’s brown eyes bounce between us. “Offer stands if you’re still feeling ill tonight. Good to see you, Camille. Say hello to your brother for me.”
