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“I didn’t need one.”
Arrogant fucker.
“Don’t you have some sort of picnic you can torture me with or something?” Sawyer asked.
I was wishing yes.
Did that mean I wanted him hanging around?
Not so much.
“Hey. I put together a flight of the new flavors if you want to—” Knox stopped talking when he stepped into the dining room. “You’re not Evie.”
Sawyer looked down, patted his chest, and looked up again, a horrified expression in place. “Oh my God, I’m not Evie,” he said in a horrible falsetto. He grabbed his crotch. “But I’m well hung, so…”
Color me unimpressed. “Evie had to go.” I told Knox.
“Ah. Bummer. I thought you both might want to taste test these.” He set the two wooden trays of drinks on a nearby table.
“You’re drinking at ten in the morning? And you tell people I’m the bad one?”
There was no way I was going to let Sawyer shame me for enjoying this. I pulled up a chair next to one of the flights. “Perk of the job. Do you want the second order, or should Knox take it away?”
“Someone’s got to drink it.” Sawyer slid the glasses closer to himself, and he sat as well.
Knox clapped me on the shoulder. “Let me know what you think. I’ll be in back.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t surprised to see Knox walk away. He preferred the company of people he knew. I was surprised I was about to have beers with Sawyer. Willingly.
Maybe I’d accidentally traded places with Alys overnight, and stepped through the looking glass.
“What are we drinking?” Sawyer’s question drew my attention.
The glasses weren’t labeled, but I knew what our fall flavors were, so it was easy to guess. “Apple wheat pale ale, pumpkin—not pumpkin spice—IPA, chocolate porter, and molasses oatmeal stout.” As I talked, I pointed to each drink, light to dark.
Sawyer puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. “Those could either be really good or really bad.”
“Knox is the best. I guarantee they’re good.” We did have a bad first attempt with both the apple and the chocolate, but this was round four flavor-wise, and we’d gotten closer each time. Sawyer didn’t need to know how many iterations we’d gone through.
I watched as he picked up the apple wheat, and took a decent sized drink.
“Enjoying the show?” He asked over the edge of his glass.
“I’m watching for a reaction. This is a taste test.” Not that I expected to get much of one out of Sawyer, unless he had the chance to tell me the beer sucked. Then I was sure he wouldn’t hold back.
Sawyer shrugged and took another drink.
I was also watching him. It was impossible to not notice how attractive he was, especially when he wasn’t putting on a show. The hints of silver that streaked his hair, his strong jaw that I happened to know delivered incredible kisses… His furrowed brow and mussed hair.
This was a bad time to tumble down the he’s hot rabbit hole. Especially with Sawyer. I should obliterate thoughts of how attractive he was. Or at least save them for when I was alone. “What do you think?” I asked.
“It’s good. Subtle. More of a hint than a smack in the face. You’re drinking too, aren’t you?”
I was. I took my own taste, and the flavor was exactly what we’d pushed through multiple iterations to achieve. It wasn’t a sweet drink. This was still a pale ale, with just the lightest essence of apple and buttery crust. “Nailed it,” I muttered.
“You sound surprised.”
“Not at all. Of course Knox got it right.”
