Chapter Seven

Meatloaf was Peaches’s next experiment. She had a recipe from the Black Mountain Tavern that had been popular when she’d done dinner there. But from the beginning of her preparations, things had seemed to go off. The texture didn’t work, probably because she’d used too many breadcrumbs. Or possibly the wrong kind. The glaze was too sweet, although it was precisely the same glaze she’d used at Black Mountain, and the mashed potatoes and green peas didn’t have enough oomph.

She watched half-eaten meatloaf return to the kitchen all afternoon, her spirits falling further with each plate. The only bright side was that she hadn’t made much. There wouldn’t be any leftovers to deal with, assuming she could palm some off on Colin for his supper. She’d take the remainder home for her own meal with some extra for Wiseass. Surely a little meatloaf wouldn’t hurt the pup’s digestion, and she should eat a healthy portion herself for penance.

She had a feeling Alicia was happy the meatloaf had failed but was doing her best not to let it show. Peaches had told her to get the mushroom mac and cheese ready for tomorrow. Might as well go back to their successes. After that, she’d make some chili, which had the virtue of being both a soup and a main dish. That gave her a couple of days to regroup.

Alicia stuck around a little longer than usual, sautéing mushrooms and crumbling goat cheese. Peaches let Colin in with the grin she seemed to wear every day when he appeared. It made her feel good to see him, but she reined herself in and returned to her bakery cases, retrieving the few pastries and slices of cheesecake that hadn’t been sold that evening. Most of them could be sold tomorrow night, although a couple of them would be on special tomorrow at lunch for anyone who wanted a fancy dessert. She took them into the kitchen to secure in plastic wrap.

Colin was pulling out his cleaning supplies on the other side of the kitchen as she entered. Alicia paused after she poured the sautéed mushrooms into a container, her eyebrows rising. “Are you cleaning the stove every night?”

Colin turned toward her. “I wipe it down. Then I do the full cleaning before the weekend.” Which was, after all, what Peaches had told him to do.

“You need to do a better job on the burners. Make sure there’s no residue to cause a smell.” Alicia turned back to her mushrooms.

Peaches caught the brief flicker of annoyance before Colin picked up a bucket. “I’ll check them tonight. I’m Colin, by the way.”

Alicia didn’t look up from her prep work. “Okay.”

Peaches’s jaw firmed. Apparently, they didn’t teach the advantages of basic politeness to the cleaning staff at Alicia’s culinary school. “Thanks, Colin,” Peaches said.

“No problem.” He nodded, with a half smile, then disappeared into the dining room.

Alicia finished the mushrooms then placed both containers in the cooler. “Anything else you need me to do tonight?” she asked brightly.

Peaches considered telling Alicia not to be a bitch to Colin but decided to let it go. She had enough things to fight with her assistant about as it was. “That’s it. See you tomorrow.”

Alicia nodded, grabbing her coat and heading out the kitchen door.

Peaches slid the last of the pastries into the cooler then grabbed her own coat and headed back into the dining room. Colin was sweeping up behind the pastry cases. She started to pull on her coat. “Sorry about that. Alicia can be difficult.” Alicia is a bitch, actually, but let’s keep it civil.

“That’s okay.” Colin flashed her a faint smile.

“We had sort of a lousy day today,” she said slowly. Well, I did, anyway.

“Yeah?” He paused, leaning on his broom. “What happened?”

“Minor kitchen disaster.” She didn’t really want to get into details. Particularly since she was still hoping he might finish the meatloaf in the refrigerator for his dinner so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. “How’s the brewing?”

“Going okay,” he said slowly. “Maybe a little more annoying than usual.”

“Sounds like we’re both having bad days.” She sighed, pulling up the zipper on her coat.

Colin paused for a moment. “You want to have a beer and discuss it after I finish tonight?”

Peaches blinked. He hadn’t made any moves toward her since the day she’d hired him, and she wasn’t sure it was a good thing that he was doing it now. “Tonight?”

He gave her another faint smile. “That was the idea, yeah.”

“Oh.” She hesitated, and his expression wilted. First Alicia and now her. The hell with it. “I’d like to have a beer, but I’m too tired to go out. Can you bring a couple of beers to my place after you finish?”

He nodded. “I can do that. I can even bring some of my own stuff. The one that’s finished.”

“Good. You can say hi to Wiseass.”

“Yeah.” His grin was a little stronger this time. “See you around eight, then.”

“See you.” She pulled on her knit cap and mittens and headed out into the cold. Ten minutes ago, she’d felt crappy. Now she felt almost…excited.

Maybe she should have Colin over a little more often.

…

Colin had made his offer to Peaches on impulse then almost immediately regretted it. She was his boss, and he didn’t have a great track record when it came to workplace romance. His previous Antero girlfriend hated his guts, after all. He’d almost decided to go slow on anything with Peaches.

But he was still feeling frustrated from his day in the shed, and the jerk in the kitchen hadn’t helped his mental attitude any. He wanted—needed—a little of Peaches’s golden glow.

He finished up the cleaning, spending an extra fifteen minutes scouring the burners on the stove, then headed back to the shed to collect his American ale, which he poured into a quart-size glass growler. It wasn’t exactly a transcendent brewing experience, but it was good basic beer. And it had aged enough by now. He zipped up his jacket, pulling on his knit cap and gloves. The weather was still frigid, and the ice at night was hard to see, easy to slip on. The last thing he wanted to do was drop the beer before he even got to Peaches’s place.

He crunched through the snow, watching his breath coalesce in white clouds in front of his face. Some of the sidewalks had been shoveled, but not all of them. He stepped carefully through the snowdrifts, tucking the beer under his arm. The front windows of Peaches’s house shone warm light onto the snow outside, and he felt momentarily warmed himself. What would it be like to have a glowing spot like this to come home to every night?

Not your place. Not your girl, he reminded himself. The only thing you can claim here is a sort-of-blue-tick hound.

Peaches threw open the door at his first knock. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there. I thought it might warm up when we got to February, but I guess not.”

He stepped inside, stomping his feet on her doormat, while Wiseass danced around him, slightly goofy with delight. He knelt down and scratched her ears. “Hi, pup, I’ve missed you, too.”

She raised her nose and gave him a sloppy kiss, maybe his first kiss in months. How pathetic is that, Brooks? You’re counting dog kisses now?

Peaches picked up the growler from where he’d placed it on the floor. “So what’s this? Something you did?”

“Yeah. American ale. One of my successes.” He gave her a dry smile. “I’m relishing it while I can. I’m not nearly as sure about what I’m doing now.”

“Come on into the kitchen. I’ll get some glasses.” Peaches headed off toward the back of her house. She was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt rather than her chef’s whites. She still looked delectable.

Not your place. Not your girl. Cool it. He followed her into the kitchen.

“Did you have dinner?” she asked, placing a couple of glasses on the table.

He nodded. “I finished off the meatloaf in the cooler. Hope that was all right.” He unscrewed the top on the growler, pouring them each a half glass. Wiseass curled up at his feet, resting her muzzle on his toe.

Peaches grimaced slightly as she took her seat at the table. “Oh, yeah. More than all right. Thank you for doing that, in fact.”

“Why? How long has it been there?” He hadn’t noticed it before, but it could have been hidden behind something else. Hopefully, it wasn’t too far past its eat by date.

“Oh, I just fixed it today. But it wasn’t a hit. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with leftovers.”

He frowned. “Why wasn’t it a hit? Tasted good to me.” Maybe not as great as some of Peaches’s other creations, but perfectly okay.

Her smile was rueful. “A lot of little things went wrong—the texture wasn’t terrific, and the glaze was too sweet. I’ll have to adjust the recipe a little more before I try it again.”

“Let me know if you need a meatloaf tester. I thought it was tasty.” He took a sip of his beer, crossing his fingers that it tasted as good as he remembered.

“Thanks. I may take you up on that.” She took a sip of her beer. “Oh, I like this. American ale, you said?”

He nodded. “It’s pretty basic—which just means it’s hard to screw up. So I think it turned out okay.” He really hoped that didn’t sound like fishing for more praise.

“It did. It goes down easy. Of course, I don’t know much about beer. I just started finding out about it when I moved to Colorado.”

She leaned back so that the light caught the gold in her hair. He decided to concentrate on his beer rather than the heat starting low in his body.

“The Napa of beer.” He grinned. “Of course, a lot of places try to claim that. But I think we come closest.”

Peaches ran her index finger along her glass. “So what’s the problem now? You said brewing was annoying, but this doesn’t seem that bad.”

He shook his head, studiously ignoring the way the shadows seemed to make her eyes seem even bluer. “It’s not this beer that’s giving me grief. Liam wants me to brew an oatmeal stout, and I’ve got it in the brew pot, but I’m not happy.”

“Why? Isn’t it turning out the way you want it to?” She took another sip of her ale.

“Maybe. I can’t say for sure. I’ve never made it before. It just doesn’t seem right somehow.”

Peaches bit her very full lower lip. “What doesn’t seem right?”

Concentrate on your beer. Do not look at her lips. “The color’s off. And I don’t like the smell.” Actually, there hadn’t been much smell, which was a problem, since most of his brews smelled like they were brewing. This one smelled like nothing.

“Oatmeal’s sort of bland,” Peaches mused. “Not much in the way of flavor. That’s why people usually pile on brown sugar or maple syrup or raisins or something like that. Trying to get it to have some taste.”

“I used brown sugar as the sweetener. That’s what the recipe used, anyway.” He probably sounded a little defensive.

“Whose recipe was it?”

He shrugged. “I got it online.” Normally, he would have asked Bec’s advice, but these weren’t normal times.

“Oh.” Her guarded expression said volumes, and his spirits took another dive. “Some online recipes do work out. Depends on how good the source is.”

“It was one of the brewing websites. They’re usually pretty reliable.” Although he couldn’t really say that for sure. In this case, reliable meant the comments section had been largely favorable.

“It should work, then.” She gave him a smile that was supposed to be reassuring. And it did manage to warm his heart a bit. “I guess the only time I really use oatmeal is in cookies. It gets a lot tastier when you bake it.”

Right. Should have thought of that. “Maybe I could toast it before I start the brew next time. Of course, I don’t have an oven in the shed.”

“You could use the oven at the Salty Goat. While you’re cleaning.” She took another swallow of her beer. “This is really good.”

He nodded slowly. Trust Peaches to come up with the solution. He should probably have talked to her before now. “I could do the toasting at night and then use the oatmeal the next day. Maybe I should just toss what I’ve got and start over.” Except he’d already taken the supplies from the brewery and signed for them. So he’d be charged either way. And Liam would be waiting to taste the result.

Peaches gave him another of those reassuring smiles. “It might turn out okay. I’d say you need to give it a chance.”

“Right.” Maybe a miracle would occur during the brewing. Maybe Liam would like it, which would be even more of a miracle.

Maybe he should stop thinking about Liam and concentrate on Peaches, who was worth a lot of concentration.

“How is all of this working out for you so far—brewing in the day and then cleaning at night?” She gave him a concerned look. “Seems sort of tiring.”

She’s concerned about me? Or maybe he was imagining it. “It’s okay. Keeps me moving.” Working in the shed did keep him moving, because if he slowed down, he’d probably freeze. When the wind blew against the walls, he was reminded that the place had no insulation and also lots of cracks where cool breezes could seep in.

Her forehead furrowed. “You look tired. Can you actually get any good sleep over there?”

“I sleep. I’ve got a warm, comfortable sleeping bag.” It was probably the only thing that was keeping him from freezing to death. And she shouldn’t be worrying about him. “I’m tired because of the oatmeal stout. I’m spending too much time worrying about it, wondering if Liam will like it. Cleaning the Salty Goat gives me an outlet for stress. At least I don’t have to think about beer for a couple of hours. How are things going with you?”

Peaches sighed. “You mean besides the meatloaf disaster? Okay, I guess. I still need to figure out what dessert to serve at the brewpub opening. I want it to be something really special.”

“Anything you fix would be special. I look forward to your cooking every night. Why not just do soup and sandwiches with scones for dessert?”

She grimaced. “According to Wyatt, a lot of important people are coming to the Friends and Family opening, food writers from the Front Range. I’d like to make a really good impression on them, maybe get a write-up where other people would see it. We need to up our game.”

He leaned forward, placing his hand alongside hers so that he felt the warmth of her skin. “Your game is already pretty high as far as I’m concerned. Your food is usually the highlight of my day. It’s a reward for the cleaning.”

Her cheeks flushed, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the compliment or because he’d moved closer. “You’re doing a good job. I don’t know what Alicia was complaining about. I haven’t noticed any problem with the stove, and I spend more time using it than she does.” Peaches gave him one of those transcendent smiles, warm gold and cream.

The warmth of her smile spread through his body, mixing with a largely unwelcome arousal. He hoped she didn’t notice, since he sure as hell didn’t want to screw things up with her. He was trying to be a decent man for a change. Sorry, Dev. I’ll do better in the future.

He should probably get out of there before she noticed he was sporting a hard-on, assuming she hadn’t already. “I’m glad you think so. I want to do things right.” He took a deep breath, willing his unruly body to settle down. “I should probably get back to the shed and make sure the heater’s still on. I’m pretty sure the cold wouldn’t make that oatmeal stout any better.” Although it might give him a legitimate excuse to dump it before Liam got a taste.

He started to stand, and Wiseass whimpered, staring up at him with soulful eyes. He leaned down to stroke her head one more time. “Be good, pup.”

“Oh, she is. A real sweetheart. She took to crate training like a champ.” Peaches gave him another of those smiles. He felt a new jolt of heat in his gut.

Yeah, definitely time to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started to pull on his jacket, reaching for his cap.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Don’t you want to take your growler?”

“I’ll leave it for now. There’s still a little beer left.” And leaning across the table to pick it up would only make his hard-on more obvious.

“You can take it home next time.” She started clearing away their glasses.

Next time. Of course, that implied there’d be one. He really hoped there would. Peaches’s cooking wasn’t the only thing he looked forward to. He zipped his jacket and pulled on his gloves. “See you, Peaches. Thanks for the oatmeal help.”

She grinned again. “Anytime. Honestly. Cooking is one thing I know a lot about.”

Probably not the only thing, given those gorgeous smiles, but he wasn’t going to pursue that particular line of thought at the moment. He leaned down to give Wiseass one more scratch then headed for the door.

…

Peaches watched Colin close her front door after a quick smile in her general direction. That was sort of weird. They’d been having a good conversation, and then all of a sudden he’d decided to go.

Maybe he’d felt the same thing she’d been feeling, an odd sort of closeness growing between them. There wasn’t anything wrong with it necessarily. But she could see why he might want to back off. He was still finding his feet in Antero, after all. And she was still trying to decide if there was anything between them other than friendship.

And if there should be.

Still, she hoped he came back for the growler sometime. Nothing wrong with having a friend of the male persuasion. And she had a feeling Colin needed all the friends he could get.

Don’t we all?

That was true enough, although she might still be feeling a little mopey over her meatloaf.

Wiseass gave a little yip that brought Peaches’s attention back to the present. “Okay, pup, I’ll take you out one last time for the night. Then we’ll get ourselves off to bed.”

Tomorrow was another day. Full of mushroom mac and cheese and Alicia’s attitude. It was what you signed on for when you agreed to be a manager.

Right. She could handle a little attitude. And some failed meatloaf. She could even handle her impatience over Ruth’s slowness on the business plan. But she needed to gather her courage and ask her about it again.

For just a moment, she pictured Colin sitting across from her, dark blue eyes and unruly black curls. A really gorgeous man. Maybe she should spend a little more time getting to know him. She paused then shook her head. Best not go there. Managing was one thing, but getting involved with an employee was another.

She’d probably be better off spending her time on her meatloaf recipe.

Probably.