Chapter Thirty
BRADEN
The noise was a tangible presence,a living creature made of laughter, the clink of glasses, and the low thrumming backbeat of one of Sutton Vale’s more percussive songs. It pressed in from all sides, a warm hum vibrating up through the soles of my shoes. From my post behind the bar, I had a view of the entire tumult that was Tidal Hops tonight. Every tap handle gleamed, every keg line was chilled to a perfect thirty-eight degrees, and every stool was occupied. Weeks of planning had culminated in this—the first official Tidal Hops fundraiser for the Dove Key Conservation Center. And it was a damn masterpiece.
My hands moved on autopilot, filling a pint of Reef Saver IPA for one of the mayor’s aides and taking an order for a flight from a couple of tourists drawn in by the energy. My mind, however, was on Tessa.
Across the packed patio, she stood talking to a trio of potential donors. The last few weeks since her presentation had transformed her into a new version of herself, built onthe foundation of the woman I’d always known was there. The tight energy she used to carry in her shoulders was gone, replaced by a grounded stillness. She didn’t fidget with her notes anymore. She held her glass with an easy grip, using her free hand to emphasize points, her fingers carving the air with quiet authority. People leaned in when she spoke. She wasn’t just Dr. Donovan, the brilliant scientist. She was Tessa, a leader in our community.
My chest tightened with a fierce, sharp pride. She must have felt my gaze on her. Her eyes, bright under the string lights we’d hung over the patio, lifted and found mine. A silent question passed between us. There was slight tension around her mouth as the man in the center of the group, a pushy real estate developer, gestured emphatically. She gave me the barest shake of her head, a microscopic movement that no one else would have noticed. It was our language, developed over late nights planning this event, shared takeout containers on my office floor, and mornings spent in my bed.
He’s not budging. Send backup.
I caught Maria’s eye as she passed with a tray of empty glasses and gave a slight nod toward the patio. “Mr. Osborne looks like he could use a fresh Reef Saver. On the house.”
Maria, that master of social diplomacy, smiled. “On it, boss.”
She moved through the crowd with practiced grace, arriving at the perfect moment to offer the developer a fresh pint, creating a welcome interruption that allowed Tessa to gracefully extract herself. Tessa glanced back at me with gratitude in her eyes before turning her attention to an older couple who had been waiting patiently to speak with her.
She was a natural.
A few minutes later, after she’d charmed a thousand-dollar pledge out of the snowbirds, she caught my eye again. A genuine, unguarded smile lit up her face. It was a smile meant only for me, a private reward in a public space. I gave her a slow, deliberate wink from behind the bar. It was all I could offer, but it was enough. She knew.
Then the Reef Saver tap sputtered, coughed, and died. The smooth flow of amber liquid choked off into a pathetic stream of foam. Keg blown. On our busiest night, with our most popular charity brew. A groan went up from the small crowd waiting for refills.
“Seriously?” someone grumbled.
Before I could even curse under my breath, a solid presence was at my side. Ben had been huddled with Eli and Austin near the end of the bar, but now he was all business, slipping behind the counter as if he’d been doing it his whole life.
“Reef Saver’s tapped,” I said, already bending down to uncouple the keg.
“I see that.” He grabbed a clean rag and wiped down the spill tray while I wrestled with the coupler. “Got a fresh one in the cold room?”
“You know it.”
We moved in the silent, efficient way only brothers can. There was no need for instruction, no wasted motion. He braced the door for me as I hauled the empty cylinder out. I pointed to the full one waiting, and he rolled it into position while I grabbed the wrench. He steadied the keg, I locked the coupler, and he bled the line. The whole operation took less than sixty seconds.
The first new pint poured perfectly, a cascade of golden effervescence settling under a crisp white head. I handed it to the guy who’d been waiting. He nodded histhanks, oblivious to the small miracle of teamwork he’d just witnessed.
I leaned against the back counter for a second as Ben rinsed the wrench in the sink before placing it back on its hook.
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Nice work.”
“Thanks for the assist.”
A wave of gratitude washed over me. My family was here, scattered throughout the brewpub, supporting Tessa and me. For so long, I’d carried a quiet, gnawing fear that I wasn’t enough. But in that moment, with my brother at my side and the woman I loved holding the entire room captive with her passion, that old fear was a distant echo from another life.
Ben followed my gaze out to the patio, where Tessa was laughing at something Harper had said. “Glad you two worked it out. You’re a good pair together.”
I nodded. He was right. She was everything. “Thanks for giving me the kick in the ass I needed to get her back.”
Ben laughed and poured himself a glass of porter. “Any time you need your ass kicked, you know where to find me.”
The energy of the fundraiser hummed for another hour. The donation thermometer, a giant board we’d set up near the entrance, climbed higher and higher, shattering the goal Tessa had privately confessed she’d feared we wouldn’t meet.
As the crowd thinned out, she slipped out the side door onto the deserted section of the patio that overlooked the pier. Her phone pressed to her ear, her back to the party. She paced a short line, her silhouette framed against the dark water and the distant lights of Big Pine Key. Her shoulders were straight, her posture strong, but the set ofher head was serious. Focused. I tried to discern who could be on the other end.
She stood tall, listening intently. It wasn’t the posture of a woman receiving bad news. It was the posture of a woman absorbing something monumental. A few minutes later, she hung up and stood for a long moment, staring out at the water. When she finally turned and came back inside, her eyes immediately found mine. And they were shining. Not with sadness, but with unshed tears that magnified the bright, overwhelming joy radiating from her.
