Authors: Avery Flynn
Enemies on Tap (19 page)
“We Sweets have that effect.” She whipped her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor.
His hands went to work on his belt. “Nope. Only the woman I love does that to me.”
Her fingers slipped from her bra closure as her brain tried to process the word. “Love, huh?”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He tossed his shirt into a corner. “Not yet anyway, but yeah, love.”
A sense of rightness filled her. This was how everything was supposed to happen. Maybe it didn’t happen on her schedule or according to her expectations, but being with Logan was the plan from here on out. “I love you, too.”
He grinned. “Good, because otherwise this conversation was going to get very awkward.” Logan’s pants dropped to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. “Now, where were we?”
He kicked the bedroom door closed, shutting out the rest of the world, and proceeded to keep his promise.
Chapter Twenty
-One
A hint of fresh paint hung in the air at the redesigned Sweet Salvation Brewery tasting room, but none of the thirty people who’d just finished a brewery tour complained. If anything, the inaugural tour crowd was a relaxed, chatty bunch. Miranda had been hesitant to start the tours only
a few months after the dust up with Tyrell and the county council, but in the end she had followed Natalie’s advice.
Now her sister had turned her focus on Sean and getting him to agree to change the brewery’s organizational flow. The whole thing was like watching two stubborn donkeys bray at each other.
Miranda grabbed a short glass of beer from the tasting room bar and stepped onto the stage where a local band had just finished setting up.
“If I could have your attention.” Her voice boomed through the speakers, and she took a step back. “Sorry about that.”
The glass shook in her hand, the liquid sloshing around as she tried to calm her nerves. God, she hated public speaking. At least this audience was more receptive then the first talk she’d given at the brewery.
Ruby Sue held court by the bar. Natalie and Sean wove through the room, making sure everyone had a glass of their latest batch. Logan sat at a corner booth with his dad and Hud. Larry and Hud were laughing about something, but Logan looked straight at her and mouthed:
Love you, Sweetling
.
Her nerves melted into a gooey warmth that heated her better than a sauna in July. She sucked in a deep breath and her hands stopped trembling.
“Uncle Julian used to tease me all the time about my penchant to map out everything. He’d warned me that life was what happened when you were making other plans. It turns out, he was right.” Miranda glanced over at Logan, and her heart shimmied in her chest. “And I couldn’t be happier.” She raised her glass. “To Sweet Salvation Brewery’s first new ale in a decade and, hopefully, your new favorite beer: Sweet Enemies.”
The pale ale went down smooth, its fruity maltiness contrasting with the fresh, floral characteristics of the hops they’d had to beg, borrow, and practically steal. “Now please, enjoy yourselves, and if you like the beer, consider taking a growler home with you to share.”
Olivia hadn’t been able to make it home yet, but her stamp was on the brewery in the form of the customized Sweet Salvation Brewery growlers. The distinctive hot pink glass jug held 64 ounces of beer and kept it fresh for a week, if not a bit longer. And at thirty dollars a jug, it had a great profit margin.
She walked down the three steps from the stage. Logan was by her side before her foot hit the floor, and her stomach did that swerve and dip it did every time he was within arm’s reach.
He clinked his glass against hers. “I have an idea for the name of your next specialty beer.”
“Oh, really? What’s that?”
He pulled a small blue box out of his shirt pocket and dropped to one knee.
Everyone in the tasting room turned to gawk. Her heart whacked against her rib cage, and she held her breath as she looked down at the man she loved.
“How about ‘One Sweet Proposal’?” He flipped open the box, revealing a diamond ring that glittered in the tasting room’s soft light.
“Yes.” The word rushed out.
Logan sprung up from the floor and slipped the ring on her finger. The crowd erupted in cheers and well-wishers pulling them apart to offer their congratulations before they even got a chance to kiss.
“This is so exciting.” Natalie enveloped her in a hug.
As she stepped out of her sister’s embrace, her gaze caught Logan’s. He winked and pointed toward her, hooked a thumb toward himself, and then nodded toward her office.
Bet you I’m faster
, he mouthed before disappearing down the hallway.
Excitement tingled across her skin, and she sucked in her bottom lip. She couldn’t wait to get him behind her office’s locked door. Images flashed in her mind involving her desk and him on his knees between her thighs. A shiver worked its way up her spine until every nerve in her body quivered.
“We need to get started on arrangements right away.” Natalie whipped out her cell phone. “I have a flow chart that would be perfect for a wedding.”
Miranda shook her head at her sister and backed toward the hallway. “Let’s figure it out next week.”
Right now, she had an important bet to win.
THE END
Acknowledgments
There are so many people who work together to keep me from looking like a total idiot. I’m telling you, it takes a village. :) A huge thank you to my editors Stephen Morgan and Alethea Spiridon-Hopson who fell in love with the Sweets just like I did. I never realized I had a subconscious hatred of commas. However, thanks to copy editor extraordinaire Patricia Krecklow, I now see the error of my ways. How she managed not to put a hit out on me when I wrote that Miranda’s butt was wishing for Tums, I have no clue. There are so many people at Entangled, some I know by name (Yo! David Murphy!) and others who work their magic far away from me (smart cookies those folks) who’ve helped bring the Sweets to life—thank you! Giant hugs going out to my street team, The Flynnbots, for keeping me in giggles and man candy. And, of course, I can’t go without thanking my protons Kimberly Kincaid and Robin Covington, who talk me down every time I freak out during chapter seventeen and convinced me that I could write a book without a dead body in it. I love you crazies.
xoxo, Avery
About the Author
Avery Flynn
has three slightly wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband, and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. Find out more about Avery on her
Website
(www.averyflynn.com), follow her on
Twitter
(@AveryFlynn), like her on her
Facebook page
, or friend her on her
Facebook profile
. Join her street team,
The Flynnbots
, on Facebook. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the Internet, she’ll be your best friend for life.
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