AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As we walked in, Annie and I were greeted with handshakes and friendly hugs. At the bar, Royal was posted next to Millie, chatting with Charles and his date, Mia. Another group of women next to them waved to Annie.
She leaned into my space. “I’m going to go say hi to some of the Bluebirds.”
My hand found the small of her back. “Have fun.”
I watched as Annie moved across the brewery with the elegance of a dancer. The satin fabric of her skirt did nothing to hide her curves, and because I was weak where she was concerned, I watched her ass the entire time.
A low whistle sounded next to me, and I turned to find Whip King appreciating her ass too.
“Fuck off, Bill.”
Whip only laughed and took another drink of his beer. “I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about.”
Confused, I looked to where Whip gestured with his glass. Near the bar, Annie turned from her conversation with her girlfriends toward Charles. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt, navy slacks that were about four inches too short, and a pair of brown shoeswithout socks. He may look fashionable to some, but to me he looked like a total tool.
I straightened when I caught sight of Annie laughing at something he said and gently resting her hand on his forearm. Charles clearly saw the friendly gesture as an invite, because his body shifted and he leaned in for a hug.
That’s it.
Leaving Whip behind, I strode across the brewery in seconds. My hand found his shoulder, and with a slightly harder than necessary squeeze, I’d grabbed his attention.
“Lee.” He turned toward me with a hand outstretched. “Good to see you.”
My eyes trailed to his hands, but I only grunted like a caveman. When I looked at Annie, she was clearly confused. “You almost ready? The tour is about to start.”
Her eyes moved from my angry glare to Charles. “Um, sure. Charles and I were just catching up.”
I glared at him like the jealous asshole I was. “I’m sure.”
“I’m not typically a beer man myself, as I’m sure you could guess, but I love to see the process of how all this is made.” Charles was attempting to redirect the conversation—away from the irrational anger that was making everyone uncomfortable.
“I’m just shocked Abel agreed to hosting the date here. He’s usually so sullen and quiet.” Annie sidestepped into me, and when my arm wrapped around her waist, I saw the jealous flare mirror in Charles’s eyes.
“It was to get out of the auction,” I ground out. Abel King kept to himself, and if opening up his brewery in exchange for opting out of the auction was on the table, I had no doubts he’d take it.
Aunt Tootie’s date bell tinkled above the crowd. We turned to see her smiling and holding a clipboard. “This way, lovebirds! The tour is about to begin.”
Slowly we filed in behind her and moved to the semiprivate room. From the back, Abel King entered from a long, dark hallway that I assumed led to offices or storage spaces. Of all the Kings, Abel was the most intense. He was quiet, reclusive, and built like a fucking tank. He’d even done a stint in prison, if the rumors were true. Looking at the cold, hard stare he shot over the crowd, I’d believe it.
Annie, along with a few of her friends, laughed and whispered as he stood before the group. His arms crossed, and a glare that could have been directed at any one of us settled on his face.
Tootie cleared her throat. “Mr. King so graciously opened his business for us. He’ll be walking you through the beer-making process, and at the end, each couple will receive two tickets to redeem for a flight of the brewery’s six signature beers. Before we begin, we have a special sponsorship to announce...” Her eyes moved nervously over the crowd. “Miss Sylvie King and Stumpy Larson have been gifted a private tasting.”
Abel’s nostrils flared, and he stepped forward. There was little doubt the “anonymous sponsor” was likely Stumpy himself.
Tootie’s smile wobbled. Sylvie’s shoulders slumped. “A tasting for four!”
Stumpy’s head whipped up. “What?”
Unfazed, Tootie blinked and looked down innocently at her clipboard. “That’s what it says right here.” Despite the rivalry, my aunt had a kind heart.
“Royal and Millie can join us!” Sylvie practically shouted and sidestepped toward her overprotective older brother.
“Poor Sylvie.” Charles leaned down to whisper to Annie. I didn’t like his fucking tone and the way he lowered his voice for her. When Annie giggled under her hand, a fresh, irrational wave of frustration washed over me.
Abel barely spoke as he walked us through the brewery. He might make exceptional beer, but his people skills could use serious work. As we walked, Annie engaged in conversations around us and asked questions. I couldn’t help but notice how her eyes would drift to Charles and Mia.
Was she jealous? Did I read this situation between us completely wrong?
