Page 80 of Golden Touch
The third time she’s on her back, staring up at me and moaning my name. And no man can resist that. I practically see stars before collapsing in a satisfied heap beside her.
Now we’re cuddling in the bed, bodies loose and tired. The unsettled feeling in my gut has notched down a little bit. Not completely, though.
Livia was going to leave me, because she thought she needed to. I’m still not over it, and it hurts me more than I’ve let on. I wish it weren’t so easy for her to walk away. And I wish she didn’t feel unsafe.
This troubling thought wakes me up a little. And when I open my eyes, I find Livia blinking back at me. “You okay?” I ask immediately.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “We should get some sleep.” She gets up and heads to the bathroom.
A beat later, I follow her for my own round of tooth-brushing. After, I check the security system and tidy the bed. When Livia gets into bed, I’m lying on my back, contemplating the ceiling. It’s tempting to reach over and pull her closer, but I hold myself back. Maybe it’s selfish, but after our argument in her car today, I need to know that she’ll come to me voluntarily.
Whether it’s fair or not, I view her as a constant flight risk.
She pulls the covers primly onto her chest as she rests flat on her back. There’s a beat of silence that feels long to me.
“Fuck it,” she whispers, and then rolls toward me.
But I’m turning, too, and we meet in the middle, her soft arms around me, and I relax against her body. “Good night, beautiful girl,” I whisper.
“Goodnight, guy who’s too sexy for his own good.”
She’s joking. But I still smile.
Luckily, our night is uneventful. The security system never pings.
Early the next morning, my father and I mash in another tank of Goldenpour over the phone. He patiently recites the same recipe, and I go along with it. Nobody needs to know that I’ve written the recipe down and locked it in the safe in his office.
As I stir the batch with the paddle, I let myself enjoy the process. I’m sick of people talking about this brewery as our family legacy, and I’m still annoyed at my father for making it so fucking difficult to care about this place. Nonetheless, I’m having fun.
No other place on earth smells like this. The yeasty air is scented with toasted grains and hoppy topnotes. And I’m wide awake in spite of the hour, because brewing is a physical act. It feels good to make something with my own two hands.
After my father hangs up, I keep at it and mash in an extratank of Goldenpour. It took me a couple weeks, but the brewery is finally back to capacity. My father can think whatever he thinks about me, but this place won’t go to hell on my watch.
By one thirty, I’ve been working for hours. So I text Livia.
Want some lunch? I’m starved.
Her reply is not as food-centric as I’d hoped.
Benito wants to come over at seven. He wants to plan a sting operation.
Christ, I can practically hear her fear.
All right. I’ll clear my schedule, and I’ll pick up some beer in half an hour when I go out to get us burgers.
I could make us something for lunch.
Nah I got this. Your job is to just sit there and take calming breaths.
Stashing my phone, I head for the door, unease settling into my gut. Livia is in danger, and all I want for her is to be free of it.
I just hope I’m right about Benito and that he knows what he’s doing.
CHAPTER 35
LIVIA
With the ugly curtains pushed open, I see light soften the springtime sky. We’re sitting around the little table, beers in hand, while Benito lays out his idea.
