Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
When someone got too close, she pushed them away. And the more she wanted someone, the faster and farther she ran. Fiona wanted both of them. Wyatt and Thoreau. And it was for so much more than just sex, or she wouldn’t have had to fly all the way across the country just to get away from them.
Twice.
She wasn’t the easiest woman to love, but she was the only woman he wanted. His one. He had more than a sneaking suspicion that Wyatt Finn felt the same. And since no one had asked for pistols at dawn or a street race to win her affections, that meant it was time for him to make his big move. Something to shake things up and get them out of this pattern the three of them had been repeating for the last few years.
He was tired of the tug-of-war that always chased Fiona away because she was unwilling to choose between them and Wyatt’s stubbornly closed mind made her unwilling to vocalize her true desires.
It was time to put his plan into action.
***
Thoreau relaxed a little as he walked through the narrow, brick-lined basement of Finn’s Microbrews toward the large stainless-steel tanks that held his latest creations. He loved coming here, and not just because it was the one area of his life he had zero doubts about.
It still gave him a thrill to think about how quickly they’d turned Seamus Finn’s hobby into a full-fledged business that was putting them both on the map in the local craft community. He couldn’t help but be proud of what he’d helped to build here.
Technically they were still at the brew pub stage with some modest outside sales—mostly because Seamus had stopped his insanely rich sugar daddy of a husband from interfering with his wallet—but Thoreau was already working out his plan to expand their production scale and market penetration over the next few years.
Thoreau had fallen in love with making beer almost as soon as the idea had been planted in his head by his brother, Hugo, when he’d mentioned that the owner of Finn’s pub was looking for an assistant brewmaster to start making signatures beers for his place.
He’d already been in school, had never even considered brewing beer until that moment, but after a few hours online his life had changed its trajectory forever.
A few years, several certifications and a business degree later, and he was here. Standing in what used to be the basement of Finn’s Pub, but was now a business he co-owned with Seamus Finn.
It wasn’t just the satisfaction of being a business owner that excited him. Thoreau loved having the freedom to create his own beers, along with the family-themed specialties the pub was known for.
Which was actually why he’d stopped in before heading to the hospital for a visit.
He stepped up to a group of shiny three-hundred-gallon conical fermentation tanks to check the digital read-outs of the fermentations. The new temperature-regulated tanks were keeping everything in the optimum range to produce the flavors he was looking for.
Thoreau had high hopes for this latest batch, but for once, his reasons had nothing to do with the business. He’d been working on it for months—before Fiona had left for the second time and Wyatt had been injured in the fire—developing the recipes for a strong beer/mead hybrid called a braggot, a smooth cream ale, and an Irish red with a little something special.
Three beers. One for each of them. Symbolic? Sure. But they should also be delicious.
He climbed a few steps up a short ladder next to one of the fermenters to peer into the small glass porthole. “In high gear now, aren’t we, baby?” he said with pride as he watched the roiling foam churn.
He ducked his head down to sniff the aroma pouring out of the airlock valve and couldn’t help but let out a groan of delight at the rich, heady scent that greeted him. “I knew I was good, but damn.”
“Are you talking to yourself again? Or the beer?” asked a familiar voice from the other end of the basement.
Thoreau grabbed the ladder to steady himself, “Holy shit, Seamus! I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.”
“Shit, I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Seamus quickened his steps and reached instinctively for the ladder. “You breaking your neck is the last thing I need on my conscience.”
Thoreau grinned. “I’m literally two feet off the ground. You can’t stop with the Dad thing, can you?”
Seamus ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “You get yourself four kids, Thor. Then you’ll know.” He gestured to the tanks. “Your secret experiments going well?”
“Of course,” Thoreau said, raising his eyebrow as he stepped off the ladder. “I’m a highly trained professional.”
“Can’t wait to try one. I was just coming down to do a check myself, since I didn’t expect you here. The group text said they were sending Fiona home to get some sleep.”