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Chapter Four
Flynn
WeekOne
“You look like you need one of these.” Tom nudged a can of beer across the coffee table.
“Ski Ya Later?” I turned the can around in my hands, eyeing the bold royal blue color.
“It’s a dark winter ale. Kinda sweet. Caramel flavors.” He shrugged. “It’s one of our best sellers.”
A clever beer in a town that thrived on tourism from nearby ski resorts and boasted a small winter sport community of its own—of course it would be popular. He knew the community. Tom Murphy and I went way back. We’d trained together in our youth, had hoped to one day be Olympians. Neither of us fulfilled our dreams.
My life plan hadn’t veered off course much, but he’d come back here to open a local brewery and pub. And he seemed to thrive, where I seemed to be stuck.
Which hadn’t seemed to bother me until I’d come back here.
“You know, this is actually the perfect career path for you.” I glanced from the can in my hands over to Tom.
“I’d laugh, but you’re right. They featured me in a big-name newspaper last year in an article titled ‘Best Beers for the Slopes.’ I enjoy the challenge.” His arms draped across the back of the couch, someone completely comfortable with who he was.
I’d felt that way until my welcome home party.
“That’s awesome, Tom. I’m really happy for you.”
“I’m happy for you,” he said, drawing his arms in as he leaned forward to rest them on his knees. “But I’ve gotta ask: how did you get this gig?”
“They’ve been chasing me for years. I’ve just been telling them no.”
“Persistent.” He nodded. “I like it. So, you finally said yes. Why amIhere? I mean, no complaints or anything.”
“They know we go back way back, and you fit the bill.” I laughed. “You’ve got the personality and the look of a host. They asked me a ton of questions in the beginning, getting to know me, my life, et cetera. They loved the idea of my former teammate and small-town Irish pub owner being the one at my side to do all this.”
He grinned and raised a hand to his chin. “Well, I have always been better looking than you. Stands to reason they’d want me to show you off.”
“Fine, you win that contest. But they picked me as the bachelor.”
“You’re splashier than me. I like it here just fine.”
His relaxed demeanor backed up his words. The small-town life suited him better than it ever had me. I’d been too eager for adventure, freedom.
“Be honest. How are you holding up?” he asked.
I glanced around the oversized living space, soaking in the quiet before the chaos. Once this was over, I wanted to ask Colton if the fireplace was original to the house or if he’d built it himself. Either way, it was a masterpiece.
“Nervous, honestly.” I wrung my hands after a few long moments of silence.
“Why? You’re going to have a house full of beautiful women. Or at least that’s the rumor.”
“That just seems stressful. Doesn’t it to you?”
“Nah.” He shook his head, flashing a smile.
“Of course not.”
“You’re living the dream. Someone picked all these women for you, and you get to date them and pick your favorite.”
I pushed to my feet and stood from the couch, eager to stretch my legs.
