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Chapter 6
How does amanshow he’s planning for thefuture? He buys two cases of beer.
Meet you at McGraw’s at 6?
I frown when I see Grayson’s text. I’d love to hang out at the pub and throw back a few cold ones. Unfortunately, I haven’t got the time. I received a huge order for my Short but Stout brew, and I need to label about a gazillion bottles before I can ship them off. Fun times. Not.
Can’t. Have a date.
I don’t mention the date is with one hundred bottles and their labels. And yes, I’m being an idiot trying to put distance between Grayson and me when all I want to do is climb him like the monkey bars in my childhood playground. What? Screw trees, the monkey bars rock!
I chew on my thumbnail as I wait for his response. I’m stupid! Why am I testing him? Putting distance between us?
Have a good time.
Great. He’s completely fine with me dating another man. Chemistry my ass. It takes me approximately two milliseconds before I break down and tell him the truth.
It’s labeling night at the brew shack.
Ugh. I’m beyond lame. I had to tell him I didn’t have a date, didn’t I? What am I doing? I can’t be with Grayson anyway. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I slap my forehead for good measure. Maybe I can rattle my brain around in there and fix this ‘obsessed with Grayson’ glitch.
Need help?
You bet I do. But do I want his help? I don’t let any old person in my brew shack. And yes, I realize my shyness about my brewing is becoming weird at this point. Fuck it. It’s not like we’re going to get it on my brew shack. I’m not exactly sexy when I’m brewing. Pfft. I’m never sexy.
Sure.
I insert an emoji of a shrugging woman and text him my address. I set my phone down and get back to work. Five minutes later it hits me. Shit! I invited the man I’m crushing on to my house. Eek! I send Hailey a text to let her know I’m leaving early, snatch my coat, and skedaddle.
By the time six o’clock arrives, the surfaces in my house are sparkling with cleanliness. Spoiler alert – my house wasn’t dirty to begin with. Hailey may be onto something when she calls me an obsessive-compulsive cleaner.
I’ve also spent the past two hours obsessing about Grayson being in my house. Friends, Suzie, remember? You are friends. And friends visit each other houses. You can handle him being in your home without jumping his bones. Besides, you’ll be in the brew shack working most of the time.
The doorbell rings and I nearly shriek in surprise. Geez. Talk about getting caught up in your thoughts. I hurry toward the door in my stocking feet. I slip and slide on my gleaming wooden floors as I move. All of a sudden, my back leg catches on something and gets stuck in place while my front leg continues moving forward. My legs slide in opposite directions until I’m doing the splits. Spoiler alert – I can’t do the splits.
“Ow!” I shout.
“Are you okay? I’m coming in!” Grayson rushes in but freezes when he sees me on the floor. “What happened?”
“I tried to do the splits?”
He sets the pizza box he’s carrying on the side table before reaching forward and helping me to my feet. A current of electricity zings through my hand and up my arm when he touches me. I yank my hand away before I start to pant after the guy. Not for us, remember!
“You are literally the klutziest person I know.” Grayson chuckles.
“I can’t help it that you don’t know very many people.” I gesture to the pizza box. “You brought dinner? You’re helping me. I’m supposed to buy dinner.”
“It’s no biggie.”
He’s wrong. The pizza is huge. “Are you expecting a family to join us?”
He grins. “I’m a big guy, and I’m hungry.”
He had to say he’s a big guy, didn’t he? Now, my eyes are roving of their own accord over his body. In addition to his broad shoulders, his chest strains against the confines of the sweater he’s wearing. The arms of the sweater aren’t faring much better.
But he’s not like one of those chicken-shaped body lifters. You know the ones I’m talking about – all upper body muscle and freakishly skinny legs. Nope. His thighs fill out his Levi’s very nicely. What is wrong with me? I’m finding thighs sexy now?
I walk to the kitchen in search of cooler air devoid of sexy men. “Sorry, but no pizza in my brew shack. Cleanliness is holy in the brew making business.”
