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“I’m really sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until the glass of beer hit me. I’m not usually so rude.”
He smiled in a way that told her he hadn’t taken offense. “I’m glad you didn’t mind coming to the party with me. Faron and I have been friends for years. I didn’t want to miss it. And I figured you knew her, too.”
“Yes, we have mutual friends.” The party wasn’t the problem. Or the guest of honor. The problem was that Beth had had no idea the party would be at Donovan Brothers Brewery. Not until her date had pulled into the parking lot, and Beth’s heart had sunk to her toes.
It wasn’t his fault that the party he’d decided to take her to just happened to be at Donovan Brothers.
She’d spent the forty-five minutes since scanning the line of customers and servers at the bar, but Jamie wasn’t there. It was pure luck on her part. Jamie Donovan was an owner of the brewery, but he was also a notoriously friendly bartender. Or so she’d heard. When she’d spent time with him, he’d struck her as serious and intense.
She didn’t want to see him again like this. Didn’t want him to think she’d bring another man to his brewery. She kept expecting Jamie to walk by at any moment, and she couldn’t think past the torture of that.
“I’m going to run to the restroom,” she blurted out. She watched as her date took a beer from the waitress, giving her a warm, open smile as he said thank-you.
“Do you want me to order you another beer while you’re gone?” he asked Beth.
“No, thank you....” Her mouth hung open for a moment. Oh, God, she’d forgotten his name. Yes, it was their first date, but he’d been so nice. “No, thank you,” she repeated, grabbing her clutch purse and sliding out of her chair so quickly that she nearly stumbled. “I’ll be right back.”
Unfortunately, she had to walk past the bar to get to the restroom, and her knees felt as if they wanted to buckle under her weight. She scanned the bar, noting that the guy behind the tap was the same slender young man she’d spotted before. Then her eyes raced over the whole room again, her heart drumming a terrified beat.
He wasn’t here, thank God. When she reached the short hallway that led to the bathrooms, she nearly broke into a run. She pushed open the door, said a quick prayer of thanks that the bathroom was empty and pressed her hand over her eyes.
“He’s not even here,” she told herself.
Once her heart had stopped its mad gallop, she set her purse on the counter and washed her hands in cold water. The icy shock made her feel better. “It’s going to be fine,” she whispered, trying to convince herself that she was ready to go back out. But when Beth met her own wide eyes in the mirror and saw just how pale her face was, she knew she’d need a few more minutes.
She put her hands on the sink and leaned closer. “It’s going to be fine,” she repeated.
Two minutes, and then she’d walk out with her head high and her heart back in the right place. And she wouldn’t think about Jamie Donovan again tonight.
* * *
GOD SAVE HIM FROM THE sexually liberated.
Eric Donovan crossed his arms and frowned at his shoes, trying to process what he’d just heard from his brewmaster. “Wallace, I don’t understand. Faron is here with her husband. Her husband. How can you be upset about that? She’s married to the man.”
“He’s a philandering scoundrel!” Wallace yelled, shaking his fist toward the front room of the brewery as his face flooded red with rage.
A scoundrel? Eric ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. They have an open marriage. As a matter of fact, you’re dating Faron, so how can her husband be cheating on her?”
Wallace Hood, a bearded giant of a man who looked like he went home to a log cabin every night, gave Eric a look of prim horror. “I’m not dating her, man. I’m in love with her. And of course her husband can cheat on her. Don’t be an idiot.”
Eric probably should’ve felt irritated at being called an idiot, but he was too confused by the conversation. He glanced around the tank room of the brewery as if someone else could help. But they were alone amongst the brewing tanks and mash tuns. Eric shrugged and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t get it.”
The brewmaster sighed and ran an impatient hand over his thick beard. “There are ground rules in open marriages, and her bastard of a husband has stopped even pretending to follow them. He cheats on her. He lies about it. And then he vetoes all the men she wants to see, claiming that he doesn’t like them. That’s what he did to me, despite that I’ve known them both for years. And then tonight he brought her here on purpose.”
“Why?” Eric asked carefully.
“He’s taunting me, because he knows I see him for what he is. I tried to tell her a few months ago. Faron is a queen, and he’s not worthy to even kiss her feet. But she’s loyal and sees the best in people. She wants to give him a chance.”
“She seems really sweet.” And she had, the one time that Eric had met her. In fact, he’d been startled by her quiet voice and shy smile. The tiny girl with gentle brown eyes hadn’t fit Eric’s assumptions about that lifestyle at all.
“She is sweet.” Wallace sighed. “And she was falling for me. And now that bastard is taking her away to California, and he purposefully arranged this farewell party for her friends at my brewery.”
Technically, it was Eric’s brewery, but Wallace was as possessive and passionate as any owner, so Eric just rolled his eyes. “You can’t leave right now, Wallace. I need—”
“Well, I can’t stay here, can I?”
What was Eric supposed to say to that? He gazed into the kitchen through the glass wall of the tank room. Despite the late hour, there were still workmen out there, laboring overtime to cut a ventilation hole in his wall. Eric grimaced.
