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I shook my head. “Madison teases me about being a workaholic, but I’m still a homebody. It’s what grounds me in the madness.”
“Some things change, some stay the same.” One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin, and my heart knocked in my chest.
“What do you see for yourself long term?”
People asked these questions, didn’t they? The only serious relationship I’d been in was the one with Aaron, and we’d never had these talks. He’d just assumed I’d do what he wanted. While real feelings were developing for Flynn, I needed to know where we stood. What he wanted versus what I wanted.
“You know? I thought I knew.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “I think I’m still trying to figure it out.”
I nodded, not quite sure what else to say.
“Top o’ the morning, er, afternoon to ya!” Tom called out, grabbing our attention. He waved a green top hat in the air and spun around the sign for his tent.
“You’re really into all of this aren’t you?” Flynn asked, shaking his head.
“You’re one to talk,” he replied, waving his hand in front of us. As soon as we’d gotten here, Flynn had bought me a flashing shamrock headband, which I’d proudly plopped onto of my beanie. We both sported assorted green beads.
“When in Rome!” I grinned.
“I’m here for your pub mac and cheese, or the Irish nachos. Tell me you have either, and I’ll forgive you for all the cheesy things you say on the show.”
“What if I have both?” Tom raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t let him off so easy, especially when he dresses like that.” A tall, dark-haired man approached us, a bit shorter than Tom.
“Oh Danielle would love this,” I muttered under my breath. The tent was full of tall, dark, and handsome. A moment too late, I hoped the cameras didn’t pick it up.
“What’s that now?” Flynn swiveled his head to look at me.
I waved a hand at him dismissively. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Hi, I’m Zach. I’m visiting to see how this lug here runs his beer tent.” He stepped forward and hugged me, leaning forward at the waist.
“Easy now.” Flynn chuckled, but there was a bit of a warning to his tone.
“Canadians,” Tom muttered under his breath.
“Easy bud. I’ve got a fiancé and kids at home.” He held his hands up jokingly, then reached out to shake his hand.
“I’m Harper, this is Flynn.” I couldn’t help but smile at Flynn’s defensiveness. We hadn’t been out anywhere as a couple yet, and it made me a little warm and fuzzy inside to know he wanted me all to himself. The feeling was mutual, though I didn’t mind sharing momentarily for Tom’s mac and cheese.
“Tom here didn’t tell me I’d be a tv star when I came down to visit.”
“I didn’tknowwhen we made plans,” Tom replied, ushering us into the door of his closed tent. He’d secured a few tables and chairs to eat his bar food, with heaters inside. I shivered, adjusting to the temperature change.
“So, what do you do Zach? Where are you from?” Flynn pulled a chair out for me, then took the one to my left.
“I have a brewery and tasting room back in Logan Creek,” he replied, easing himself into a chair.
“We met at a beer festival.” Tom explained, passing around bite-sized versions of his regular menu. “Zach here toured the west coast after he decided to open his brewery up in Canada. We both wanted to explore the world of microbrews. Now, are there any other questions before you fine folks tell me what you’d like?” He flashed a thousand-watt smile, but there was an underlying current of impatience.
I couldn’t help but giggle a little, but also wondered if splitting his time between the pub, his beer, and hosting the show was proving to be a lot to juggle. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he glanced around the small space we occupied, even smaller now due to the cameraman filming our every move.
“You know what we want.” Flynn grinned and settled into his seat, stretching a leg out beneath the table.
