6
AS LUCK WOULD have it, Kelsey pulled into a parking spot by the Espresso Express at the same time as Ian was getting out of his truck. A second guy with long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail followed Ian from the vehicle. That had to be Ian’s business partner, Micah. Kelsey wasn’t expecting him to be at the meeting, but she wouldn’t be sorry about it if he was more forthcoming than Ian.
That said, she also wasn’t exactly thrilled. If Micah did turn out to be like Ian, the meeting would be doubly troublesome.
Ian must have pointed her out, because Micah crossed the short distance between their vehicles, holding out a hand. “Micah Bauman. You’re Kelsey Porter? Nice to meet you.”
She wondered what Ian had told Micah about her. She’d assumed it was something along the lines of her being that bitch with the SHS pin, which made this cheerful introduction highly suspicious. “Nice to meet you.”
Kelsey shook Micah’s hand and . . . nothing. No nerves in her hand woke up, no images flitted through her mind about licking him like a Popsicle. Interesting. Her body’s lack of reaction certainly had nothing to do with Micah being unattractive. He was, in a square-jawed kind of way, something like a rock star crossed with a lumberjack. But no part of her body, from her toes to her brain, gave a damn.
“Oh, look. Puppies!” Micah waved through her SUV’s cracked-open rear window at her dogs. Since Kelsey didn’t intend this meeting to last more than fifteen minutes, she’d brought them along so they could go walking afterward. Helen had a few tiny parks interspersed among the residential streets, but the main park with all its winding paths was a couple of blocks from the coffee shop.
Juliet and Puck vied for space to greet Micah while Kelsey looked on amused. Ian, she couldn’t help but note, hadn’t come closer. He was leaning against his truck with his arms crossed. Still insufferable. Still rude to her dogs.
Still annoyingly eye-catching, despite wearing a heavy fleece today. The ends of his hair lifted slightly in the wind. He rubbed at the layer of similarly colored scruff on his jaw with one hand and raised his other an inch in greeting. The bare minimum of politeness.
Kelsey mimicked the gesture rather than make an effort to goad him.
Kudos to Micah for being friendly. Apparently he was unlike his business partner in multiple ways, and therefore more deserving of her attention.
She introduced her dogs, including Romeo, who was cautiously observing Micah from afar. “I can’t take too long, since I brought them to go on a walk.”
“No problem.” Micah glanced in Ian’s direction. “I’m sure we can wrap this up quickly.”
Five minutes later, Kelsey brought her caffè mocha to the table Ian and Micah had claimed. The Espresso Express didn’t cater to sit-down business, so while there were a half dozen or so scuffed tables around the counter, they were small and packed together. In retrospect, suggesting they meet at Starbucks might have been better, but then, Kelsey hadn’t been expecting Micah to join them. So really it was Ian’s fault they were going to be cramped.
With three mugs of coffee on the table, there wasn’t a lot of space to set up her laptop. Kelsey slid her chair over to get the best possible angle, causing her knee to bump Ian’s leg. He didn’t react, but she wasn’t so sure she was able to hide her own expression, which was problematic, since she also wasn’t sure what it was. She didn’t want to touch Ian, but the jolt she’d felt had suggested she had nerve endings in her knee that she’d been previously unaware of that could cause crackling sensations in her torso.
Kelsey decided the smoothest way to play off whatever had happened was to pretend it hadn’t.
“We brought you something,” Ian said as she opened her laptop. They were the first words he’d spoken to her, and he set a six-pack on the table. “We didn’t exactly get off to the best start last time, so . . .”
Given the way he trailed off, Kelsey wondered if Micah had forced him to do this.
She spun the closest bottle around to read the Northern Charm Brewing label, but that was all she got from it. Ales versus stouts versus IPAs meant nothing to her. She felt bad about that, since at least one of these men was trying to be a decent guy, but it just showed why she was absolutely the wrong person to help them.
“Er, thanks. But I don’t actually like beer.” She made an apologetic face and slid the bottles back toward Ian.
Ian cast a glance at Micah as if to say, Told you so, confirming to Kelsey that this hadn’t been his idea. “Of course you don’t. No beer, no outsiders. Is there anything you do like, besides dogs?”
Oh, good. They were back to snark. She could handle that much better than she could handle knee jolts.
Kelsey pretended to contemplate. “Small towns? Look, you don’t have to take any of this personally, you know.”
“How am I supposed to not take it personally when you support people who are intentionally making my life and livelihood difficult?” Ian motioned toward the SHS pin that she’d never bothered to take off her jacket, and his stupid leg pressed into her knee.
Kelsey could have told him she’d forgotten about the pin and that she’d never gotten around to looking into the group, but it was more satisfying to let him believe the worst of her. She reached for her own coffee, giving her the excuse to shift in her seat. Tall people were always taking up too much space. She would now officially hold Ian’s height against him, just because. “How about because I’m here, helping you?”
“Are you though?”
Was he serious? “Yes, and for free, I might remind you.” Her father deserved a good ass-kicking for that, but he’d never get it, unfortunately.
“All right, kids.” Micah held up a hand between them. “Let’s focus and calm down. Kelsey, we appreciate your help.”
Uh-huh. Possibly one of them did, but as much fun as it might be to continue trading jabs with Ian, she didn’t have time for it. Especially not with her dogs sitting in the car. “Can I just get some answers to my questions. Real answers instead of the equivalent of manly grunts?”
Micah chuckled and tried to hide it behind his coffee mug.
Ian scowled. “I don’t understand what additional information you need.”
“Have you even read your aunt and uncle’s website? If you want me to write something similar, I need a similar level of detail. Obviously. Who are you both? Where did you come from? Why did you open the brewery in Helen? Where did you learn the business?”
And why did her freaking knee tingle when it brushed Ian’s leg? If she was going to get all tingly over a guy—and frankly, she’d rather not—couldn’t it be for the rock-star-slash-lumberjack who liked her dogs and wasn’t completely insufferable?
Those last couple of questions were between her and the universe, though, and it was just as well. She had enough questions for the men as it was.
Ian rubbed the thin layer of stubble on his cheeks in obvious frustration. “Like I said in the email, I’m originally from the Boston area. I moved to Florida to live with my grandparents when I was twelve and went to work for my aunt and uncle at their brewery after college.”
“Yeah, I got that. Those are the what answers. No one gives a shit about the what. What is boring. It’s the why that makes a story. That’s what gets people interested.”
Ian sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Why? I like beer. Obviously.”
If it wouldn’t have ruined her laptop, Kelsey would have tossed the remains of her mocha at him. For a second, she’d almost thought she’d gotten through to him. Instead, she closed her eyes in frustration. Freaking men.
Freaking insufferable Ian. Even if she did drink beer, a six-pack would not have been enough to thank her for her time and patience.
Micah started to say something, but Ian cut him off, setting down his mug with so much force that coffee sloshed over the sides. “The whys aren’t that interesting. Can’t you make something up if you want to?”
Oh, she was tempted to make something up, but she was pretty damn sure Ian wouldn’t like what she wrote. It might entertain her enough that she didn’t dream about suffocating him though.
Micah might have read some of those thoughts on her face, because he raised his hands a second time. “Your life isn’t that boring, my friend. How about this? Why don’t I take a look at the questions Kelsey sent, and at your answers, and I can fill in the blanks?”
Ian gave his friend an unreadable look but finally nodded. “Okay. Fine.”
Kelsey shrugged. “Whatever works.”
Despite not wanting to write something for them in the first place, she’d always intended to do a decent job. But that was only because of her pride, since the newspaper piece would bear her name. But maybe she could sit down with Micah—and just Micah—sometime to talk about the article.
Micah was not insufferable, even though he was still an outsider. He was friendly to her dogs. He seemed to appreciate her help. Talking to Micah would likely be much more productive and perfectly boring.
For some reason, that greatly disappointed her.
A FEW MINUTES later, Kelsey transferred the rest of her coffee into a thermos and left. Finally able to stretch out his legs, Ian did so as he cupped what was left of his drink. There were only a couple of other people in the coffee shop, but it had felt alarmingly claustrophobic when Kelsey had been sitting across from him.
That had nothing to do with the overall tight space or dark wood decor and everything to do with him being exceptionally aware of her presence. Her leg under the table, where if he wasn’t careful, he brushed up against it. Her face peering out over her laptop screen, emphasizing how small the space between them was. Her hand mere inches away when she reached for her coffee. Sitting down, Kelsey had seemed a lot larger than she really was. Ian wasn’t sure if it was because she took up her share of the table, or because she was taking up too much space in his head.
There were likely dozens of people in the SHS. It shouldn’t bug him so much that Kelsey was one of them, and yet it did. Because of that, Ian had thought responding to her emailed questions quickly had been the best option. Get it over with and he wouldn’t have to run into her again. Obviously he’d done a fantastic job of misjudging that play.
“You see what I mean?” he said to Micah as Kelsey disappeared through the door. “She’s not very personable.”
Micah shifted his chair, also taking the opportunity to spread out. “I don’t know. She seemed friendly until you started arguing with her.”
“I didn’t argue.”
“Whatever you want to call it, you started it. Which is interesting.” Micah tapped his fingers against his mug.
Ian narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re not usually the kind to start shit with people.”
“Call it what you want, but I’m not the one who started anything.” He lowered his voice even though the coffee shop was noisy with the sound of the grinder in the background. “The SHS started it, and you saw her pin. That means she started it by association.”
“I did see the pin. I also saw her, and you were holding out on me. She’s cute.”
More like hot, especially when she did that kind of sneering thing at him. Ian wasn’t even entirely sure she was aware that she did it, and he had no idea why it activated the dirty thoughts portion of his brain. But damned if he hadn’t been fighting alarming thoughts about her mouth during this entire failed conversation.
The lower half of his body stirred as he recalled them. “I didn’t say she wasn’t.”
“But you didn’t say she was. That, combined with you starting shit, is what’s so interesting.”
Ian rubbed his face in his hands, grimacing, and not only because he needed to shave. “If you want me to admit that I find her attractive, then fine. I find her attractive. I think lots of people probably would.”
Micah chuckled quietly, as he’d been prone to do too much of this afternoon. “Agreed. She’d got a kind of sweet-and-sour thing going on. It’s deceptive.”
Sour wasn’t the word Ian would have chosen, although he wasn’t sure what was. He tried to think of one to counter Micah, though, because he didn’t like that his friend’s interest in Kelsey was making him as grouchy as Kelsey herself could. Eventually he gave up and finished his coffee. Not discussing Kelsey further was probably the best choice for his peace of mind.
“She also has a great ass,” Micah added after a moment.
“Are we done?” He wasn’t sure if he was asking about the coffee or Kelsey, or if it mattered.
Micah drained the rest of his mug. “Yup. Because we have more work to do.”
“You mean Kelsey’s questions? I’m finished. That was you volunteering, not me.”
“Not the questions. I mean our sign.” Grimacing, Micah held out his phone. “We just got an email from the town saying they’re denying our proposed design for not meeting their guidelines.”
Ian stared, but Micah gave off no suggestion of this being a bad joke. And of course it wasn’t. No doubt the Save Helen Society had struck again. That was why it didn’t matter how hot Kelsey was. The SHS was a menace, and Ian was ready to hit someone.
“Doesn’t meet the guidelines?” He attempted to keep his voice down as he gathered his and Micah’s empty mugs. “Yes, it does.”
“No, it met the guidelines they originally gave us, which are not the same guidelines they’ve attached to this email. They either changed them or gave us the wrong information before.”
“Or they’re giving us the wrong information now to screw with us.”
“Or that.” Micah shrugged. “Luckily I hadn’t ordered the sign yet.”
“There’s nothing lucky about any of this.” Ian carried their mugs over to the dirty dishes spot at the serving counter, trying to hide his bad mood in case anyone was watching.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Micah stood out everywhere they went in town these days. They were the newcomers, the outsiders who’d pissed off a sizable percent of the town without realizing it. During the summer months when tourists flooded Helen, he’d felt comfortably anonymous most of the time. But as August had given way to September and the raging stream of tourists had slowed to a steady trickle, that comfort had drained away too. It was becoming ever clearer to Ian who the locals were and who was just visiting, and yet he was neither. Not really. Not yet. And unless a local was wearing one of those bright yellow SHS pins, it was impossible to determine what they thought of him and his business. Excitement? Or resentment?
It could just be that he had an overactive imagination and the paranoia to go with it, and in truth nobody spared him a second glace. It was easier to assume that was correct after a beer or two. Then he could hear his bubbe’s voice in his head, reminding him that of course he was paranoid—he was Jewish. Paranoia was called being smart.
After a couple of beers, that joke seemed funnier too.
Ian set down the mugs and turned back toward Micah, who was staring at his phone, brow furrowed. Should they go back to work at the brewery, or head to the town offices to appeal their sign? He should probably read the email himself before reaching a decision, but he was so tired of this crap. Still, Ian pulled out his phone to check. He was not submitting to any of this town’s BS without a fight, and to fight well, he needed all the information. No matter how infuriating.
Across from him, the shop door opened with a jingle, and Ian glanced up as a familiar face entered. Tasha McCleod noticed him at the same time, and her lips pressed together in something that was almost but not quite a smile. Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He and Tasha weren’t exactly friends, but Tasha worked for the town. Since he and Micah had lost innumerable hours of their lives on the other side of her desk at the town hall, he’d probably spent more time talking to her than most other people in Helen.
Then Ian saw the SHS pin on her jacket, and that explained everything. When Kelsey had walked into the brewery on Friday wearing one, it was only the second pin Ian had seen. Three days later they appeared to be everywhere, spreading like a virus.
“Et tu, Tasha?” he asked, mostly to himself.
Tasha didn’t catch the question, and she forced her mouth into a more normal smile. “Hey, how’s the brewery going?”
He should lie, be polite and pleasant. He told himself Tasha didn’t deserve his bad mood, since allegedly she wasn’t the one making his life miserable. But the pin made it hard for Ian to believe that.
“The brewery would be going better if you and your friends weren’t trying to sabotage it,” Ian said, gesturing at her pin.
He glanced toward Micah again. There was no way his friend couldn’t hear their conversation, but he was keeping his head down. The jerk.
Tasha’s smile wavered. “No one is trying to sabotage anything. Forms just need to be filled out correctly. As for the pin, containing development is a priority of the mayor’s. It’s nothing personal.”
“It’s starting to feel very personal.”
“I’m sorry you think that way.” But she stumbled a bit on the words, and her phone rang. “It’s the day care. I need to take this.”
Ian nodded and headed back toward Micah. Saved by the ringtone. There was no point prolonging that conversation anyway.
Micah tossed on his jacket, and they left in silence. Ian no longer felt like discussing the sign problem somewhere with an audience, and that meant waiting until they were back in his truck.
“So the whiny town clerk has a pin too,” Micah said as Ian started the engine. “Figures.”
“She’s not whiny. There’s enough we can kvetch about without making stuff up.”
“I disagree. She has one of those nasally voices that makes everything she says sound like she’s whining.” Micah pretended to shudder. “Why defend her when she’s wearing an SHS pin?”
Ian wasn’t sure. He backed out of the parking spot, making the executive decision to head toward the brewery rather than the town hall. It was late in the afternoon. If they were going to fight the sign issue in person, it was probably best to wait until tomorrow morning.
“Kelsey was wearing an SHS pin too,” he pointed out, “and you didn’t seem to have an issue with her.”
“I like Kelsey.”
“You like Kelsey’s ass.”
“I can like more than one thing about a person.”
Ian shook his head. “What else is there to like about Kelsey?”
“For starters? The way you get all tense whenever her name comes up.”
“I do not.” He made himself loosen his grip on the wheel, and he didn’t need to take his eyes off the road to figure out Micah had noticed. “I’m tense because of the sign problem.”
Micah exhaled something between a groan and a sigh. “We’ll deal with the town tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to need a drink.”
“Conveniently, we happen to have some alcohol.” Ian pulled into the brewery’s lot. The bare spot over the door where their sign was supposed to hang looked extra empty, and instead of parking in front, Ian pulled around to the back so he didn’t have to see it.
“Drinking our beer reminds me too much of work.” Micah slipped off his seat belt.
Ian jumped out of the truck, wishing he’d bought more coffee to take with him. There was so much to do, never mind the sign taking up more of his time. “Fine. We can drink someone else’s beer, but I’ve got to get that inventory list finished, and those new tanks need to be—”
“No.” Micah held up a hand to cut him off. “We’re stopping at dinnertime. We don’t have to work late every night.”
“I can’t let this stuff sit.”
“Yes, you can, my friend.” Micah took the keys from Ian’s hand and opened the back door. “Sign issue notwithstanding, everything is on schedule. We are in good shape, and no matter how hard you work or how many more batches of beer you want to start, you can’t make the current ones brew faster. So relax a little before you give yourself an ulcer.”
Ian blinked as the industrial-strength lights overhead turned on. How were there still so many boxes to unpack? Why was the bottling equipment in such disarray? Was there something off about the smell in the air? What if a batch had gone bad? What if he was going to fail?
He inhaled more deeply, breathing in the scent of alcohol, hops, and other fermenting grains that weren’t entirely beer yet. At least not beer he’d want anyone to drink.
“That’s right. Breathe it in and relax.” Micah handed him back the keys. “Look at it this way—we should be out and about more, frequenting the places around town that we want to become our customers. Make them see us. Make them like us. Make them want to buy our products. That’s good business.”
Ian couldn’t argue with the logic of that, although it felt like a convenient excuse to take a break. One he would regret later if the business went under.
He ran a hand over the stainless steel tank closest to him and told himself that Micah was right. If he was acting like this, he probably did need a drink.
Unfortunately, going out wasn’t as simple as Micah was making it out to be either. “Yeah, yeah. But do we go to a Porter place or a Lipin place?”
As ridiculous as the question was, the last few months had taught Ian it was taken very seriously. A feud had overtaken the town decades ago. Ian didn’t know what had caused it, but for some reason, people had never gotten over it. The only upside Ian could find for being considered an outsider was that no one expected him and Micah to pick sides, at least not yet. He hadn’t figured out whether Kelsey helping the brewery would change that, but he sure could imagine Kelsey being the type of person to enjoy a feud. Picking fights seemed like her hobby, and she probably thrived on the animosity. He had practically felt it radiating off her today. It made her more . . . interesting. That was unfortunate, but Ian told himself it was only because hers was a mindset he would never understand.
But Kelsey’s interesting shortcomings aside, Ian hoped her help wouldn’t drag the brewery into the morass. If he had his way, they would never get involved in it. Not every business did. There was only one supermarket, one hardware store, and now one brewery, which suggested they should be positioned to remain neutral.
As for the other businesses, Ian was still learning about their affiliations, so to be safe, when he went out, he made sure not to show favoritism to any one bar or restaurant. It was an additional hassle in a town that seemed to thrive on creating hassles for him, and one more piece of evidence that there was definitely something in the water around here that drove people to irrationality. Ian fervently hoped it wasn’t as contagious as those damn SHS pins so he wouldn’t catch it.