His expression softens to an almost smile. He rolls out of bed, and it instantly feels cold and empty without him. He gathers his plate then rounds the bed to collect mine and all the tissues.
“Oh, gross.” Embarrassment flames through my cheeks. “You don’t have to get those.”
He leans over me, pushing me back until my head hits the pillow. “Your body fluids don’t scare me away, rosy.” His gaze strokes over my lips. “Rest up.”
On his way out, he dips his head to Sawyer, murmurs his thanks, and is gone. She turns her wide gaze to me. Opening her mouth, she pauses and peers down the hallway before closing us in the bedroom.
“Who the hell was that? Sweats? Your bed? His brothers are working at the brewery? When he texted me, it took me ten minutes to figure out who it was. I was afraid for seven of those minutes that you were back with Tanner, then I had to convince myself it was Calder asking me for a favor. What happened?”
So much, yet not a lot. I tell her about what I overheard in the brewery office as anger plays over her features with sadness and regret.
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asks, her hurt loud and clear.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
She shakes her head and stretches out cockeyed on the bed, her boots hanging off. “Even if you were, you wouldn’t have called.”
“I came to you when I found out they were selling.”
She rolls her eyes. “Only because you didn’t want to face them here alone.”
Chagrin stirs up the calzone in my belly. “I don’t want to bother you. You have a stressful job.”
“So do you, and you don’t always have to protect me. I’ve been handling Bowen and his salty attitude just fine.”
I’ve been so wrapped up in funeral planning and the fallout of the trust that I forgot she’s been helping Carlos more since Ransom died. Calder and Bowen have been doing chores too. Their paths are crossing more. “Has he been bad?”
She lets out a gusty sigh. “I wish I could say he’s been a huge asshole, but we don’t talk much, and he doesn’t argue at all when it comes to anything vet related. It’s kind of refreshing, actually. He looks grumpy, though.”
“He’s been closing the taproom and still gets up for chores. Calder too.” They get less rest than I do, but I’m the one who crashed.
“Landry’s going to start joining them, I’m sure.” She pushes at my shoulder and gives me a hopeful smile. “Maybe they’ll realize they love all this and won’t fight you about selling.”
“Right.” I smile only to make her feel like she cheered me up.
They’re going to see how far things have fallen, how much money they’d have to put in, and they’ll double down until, eventually, my only option will be to agree to sell. Then I’ll have no reason to be in Calder’s life, and he’ll leave once again.
THIRTY-ONE
CALDER
Landry wipes a hand across his brow. “I forgot how much cleaning is involved in this shit.”
He’s actually in jeans today. They’re more pristine than mine were before I started working in them. As for shirts, he didn’t pull any of his old clothing out of the boxes downstairs at the house. His polo is infinitely better quality than the ones purchased for the Jules Creek logo. Its charcoal-gray color is nicer, but there’s a small hole in the side where he caught it on a valve.
When I arrived for lunch, the guys had already tipped a delivery driver a couple hundred dollars to bring lunch from Williston. Now I’m playing catch-up. “Did one of you get the original gravity on the wort?”
Landry drops his arm. “Of course, boss.”
“It’s McBossy.”
Bowen rounds the stills from where he was securing the pallets for tomorrow’s shipment. “Who’s McBossy?”
“Me.” I grin. “I’ll let you figure out which of you is McNerdy and McModel.”
“McModel?” Landry screws his face up and leans against the edge of the mash tank. “I haven’t modeled in years.”
“You’re doing it right now.” Bowen shoots him a shit-eating grin.
