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“No. Just…this kind of night life. You must see it every evening.”
“Sometimes. Watching other people have a good time can get a little monotonous. Particularly in a town like Antero, where most of the people are on vacation. The level of desperation can get pretty stark if they don’t feel like they’re having the optimum amount of fun.”
Her full lips edged up slightly. “I can sort of sympathize. Isn’t that what they call FOMO? Fear of missing out?”
He grinned. “Maybe. These young whippersnappers and their dadburn slang.”
She gave him another of those enigmatic smiles.
A series of stupid come-ons ran through his brain. Are you interested in a good time? I’m a good-time expert. Want to have a good time with me?
What the fuck is wrong with you, Dempsey? Your brain has gone on furlough.
Clearly, he needed to get his head examined.
“How long does this go on?”
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what she meant, but figured she must be talking about the tavern. “We close at two on weekends. I’m off at eleven, though. I worked the afternoon shift, too.”
She looked back at him, those miraculous dark eyes like a rich porter. “You’re off in another fifteen minutes?”
“A little less. Since my relief showed up a half hour ago.” He took a quick breath. “You have any plans for the rest of the evening?”
She glanced at her almost-empty glass of stout. “Not exactly.”
“Want to taste some outstanding red ale?”
“Yours?”
He shrugged. “Bec’s. We just finished bottling it this morning. But there’s still some in the barrel.” Bec had planned on taking that barrel to Wyatt, but Liam didn’t figure the two of them would be drinking enough tonight to cause any problems.
“Sure.” Ruth drained her glass. “Lead on.”
“Let me clock out.” He pulled off the bar apron, heading for the storeroom where the time clock was.
Bec was in Denver with Wyatt. That left an empty brewery with lots of nooks and crannies. Not that they’d end up there, necessarily.
Unless they wanted to.
The evening suddenly seemed full of possibilities, all of them interesting.
…
Ruth stared down at the glass of red ale Liam had just siphoned from one of the barrels on the rack. Just what are you doing here, anyway?
But that was a more or less rhetorical question. She knew exactly what she was doing there, and she was pretty sure Liam did, too. She’d gone to the Black Mountain Tavern because she’d been too bored to stay home. Even though she’d worked a half day at the deli, she wasn’t tired. Just…edgy.
But she hadn’t intended to do much once she got there. Drink a beer, have a dance or two, then head back home. Instead, here she was on a couch in Bec’s dimly lit apartment, waiting for Liam to join her.
You could always leave.
She could. Drink the beer, say something complimentary, and head out the door. No harm, no foul. If she was going to do that, she’d better get on with it ASAP.
The door to the apartment swung open and Liam stepped inside, carrying a glass along with a flask. “I thought we might like seconds—assuming it’s as good as Bec says it is.” He gave her another of those slightly predatory smiles.
Liam Dempsey was a good-looking man. She wasn’t sure she’d ever noticed before, given that she’d only seen him now and then, usually with Bec. His brown hair had hints of red in the dim light. His eyes were an odd shade of grayish-green, with brown overtones.
He took a sip of his beer, his grin widening. “Damn, that’s good.”
“You haven’t tasted it until now?”
He shook his head. “Never had the time.”
She brought the glass to her lips, tasting the slight bitterness of the hops, along with some toasted malt. “Tasty. What makes it red?”
“The grain. The way it’s roasted.”
“Did you get it from Abe Parsons?”
“We get all our malt from Abe Parsons.”
She glanced around the room, as she took another sip. “This is a nice place. Bec’s done a good job putting it together.”
He frowned. “You’ve never been here before?”
