Chapter Thirteen

The next day, Colin could tell he was feeling better, mainly because he was bored out of his skull. The only thing keeping him from heading back to the shed was Wiseass, who spent the day snoozing at his side or enthusiastically licking his face. The dog seemed to have no control switch—she was either totally on or totally off.

She seemed so happy to be with him he didn’t have the heart to take off and leave her. His feelings had absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to leave Peaches, too.

Nothing at all.

After a while, he tried walking around the house, testing his newfound strength. His legs were stiff from inaction, but once he’d done a little moving, he felt stronger. He checked out the bookshelves for something to read, but Peaches’s books and magazines were mostly cooking related. Finally, he used his phone to check the brewing websites, looking for something he could work on when he was finally brewing again, something that would satisfy Liam.

At noon, someone rang the doorbell, and he saw Liam himself standing on Peaches’s doorstep. “Peaches isn’t here,” he said as he opened the door. “She’s working.”

“I know. It’s you I came to see.” Liam moved into the house, pulling his jacket off as he did.

Colin stepped back, not sure exactly what to expect. Wiseass stayed close to him, apparently not as taken with Liam as she was with Peaches. He wondered if the dog remembered the punch Liam had given him their first day here.

“How do you feel?”

Colin shrugged. “Better. I can probably go back to work tomorrow or the day after.”

“Don’t push it. I don’t want you to get sick again.”

“Not much chance I will. I’m pretty much back to where I was. I left some IPA working in the fermenting tank. I don’t know what happened after I came here—it may have been messed up by the cold.”

Liam shook his head. “I checked it when I packed up your stuff. The heater has been on, so it should be okay. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Among other things.” He headed toward the living room. “You need to figure out what you’re going to work on for the brewpub opening. The small-batch stuff you put out now will help out, and we need more of it. But we need to produce more specialized beer for the pub as we keep our main lines going for retail sales. If you can come up with something decent, something I like, you can be a full partner again.”

Colin managed to keep his expression neutral. “That’s all I want.”

“Okay, then what do you want to do? Our small runs can give us possibilities for new releases. Plus giving customers something to sample and maybe talk about.”

“I could try the oatmeal again.”

Liam blew out a breath. “Bec’s supposed to be working on an oatmeal, although I don’t know how far along she is. You don’t need to get into that again.”

Since I mucked up my first try.

Colin leaned down to rub Wiseass’s ears. “I’ve been thinking about a wheat, maybe one where I used honey for the sweetener.”

“Honey’s weird in beer.” Liam raised a dubious eyebrow. “Plus it’s hard to get it consistent from one lot to the next, since you’ve got different bees and different pollen.”

“Which makes it perfect for small batch. You couldn’t do a large commercial run, but I could do a limited one. I’ve been researching it. Lots of recipes on the web.”

Liam blew out a long breath. “Okay. Try a small run and see what happens. Where are you going to source the honey?”

“I’ll talk to Peaches. She uses honey at the Goat. Maybe she knows a good source.”

Liam gave him a dry smile. “Maybe.”

I’m not exploiting her, honest. Except it was probably logical that Liam would think he was, because she’d rescued him several times now.

“Okay, keep working on the ale and the IPA. Try out the honey wheat. Strictly small batch. Maybe it’ll be your golden ticket.” Liam started pulling on his jacket.

Colin got to his feet as Liam stood up but had to put his hand on a chair to steady himself. Three days of being flat on his back, plus an ear infection, had messed up his equilibrium. Wiseass gave him a slightly concerned whimper.

Liam frowned again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just getting my sea legs back. I’ve spent too much time lying around.”

“You’re not going to live in that shed again.” Liam narrowed his eyes. “Are you really that broke?”

That idea must have seemed impossible to someone who knew him from before. Circumstances could change in the blink of an eye, though. Colin had learned that the hard way.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m really that broke. But I’ve got the room above the Goat now, once I get it cleaned out. I’ll use the shed solely for brewing.”

“Okay.” Liam paused. “I’m sorry you got sick, man. I really didn’t mean for you to live down there.”

That was probably as close to sympathy as he’d get from Liam, but he’d take it. “I’ll bring the IPA over when it’s finished.”

“Right. See you.” Liam stepped out the door.

Colin watched him head back up the street, trying to figure out what had just happened between them. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn they were on more friendly footing. But by now, he knew better than to rely on anything resembling good news. Dark clouds might have silver linings, but they also had lightning.

…

After work the next night, Peaches told herself she wasn’t really hurrying home when she’d finished at the Salty Goat. She was just a little late, after all. They’d had a last minute rush on cookies and cheesecake, and she’d had to bring out more slices than usual. That was good news, of course, but she worried Colin might have needed her help.

He’s getting better. He doesn’t need you hovering.

Both things were true, but she still worried. She remembered what he’d looked like when she’d found him in the shed. Maybe he was recovering, but she didn’t want him to push too far too fast.

You don’t want him to go at all.

She kicked that thought to the back of her mind. If she was honest, she’d admit she liked having Colin around. In fact, she probably liked it too much. But she wouldn’t get attached to him. He was by definition just passing through her house. While they’d stay in touch after he moved to the apartment at the Salty Goat—after all, she’d probably see him every day, if only for a few minutes—they wouldn’t necessarily have anything beyond a friendship.

A close friendship. A warm friendship. But a friendship was it. And that was all she wanted, really.

Liar.

Peaches firmed her jaw, determined to ignore all her inner comments. She knew better than to get involved with Colin Brooks, no matter how tempting he might be. Good-looking charmers were trouble—she knew all about them from her time with Jerry. She unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and stopped. Noises were coming from the kitchen. So were smells. She frowned. Had Ruth stopped by?

The kitchen door swung open, and Colin leaned out, all dark curls and flashing smile. “Evening. Wiseass and I are making dinner. Come on back.”

She approached the kitchen cautiously. It was, after all, her own kitchen. She wasn’t delighted about other people stirring something up there. Particularly when she had no idea whether that other person knew what he was doing.

She stepped inside the door, narrowing her eyes. Colin stood at the counter, tossing a bowl full of lettuce.

“Welcome home.” He gave her one of those grins that made her knees a little weak. “I didn’t know if you had anything planned for tonight. I wanted to fix dinner for you. You’ve fixed enough food for me.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

She was still trying to decide how to feel about this. People didn’t cook for her, as a rule. She made them nervous—with good reason. As a professional chef, she couldn’t help but critique anything she ate. Even if she didn’t say anything out loud, her thoughts were usually written all over her face. Colin, however, didn’t look even slightly nervous at the moment. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, although he was still in his stocking feet. It was the first time she’d seen him standing for more than a few minutes since he’d come to her house. He’d walked around some yesterday, but he’d ended back in bed soon after.

“Do you feel okay?”

“Pretty much. And I owe you about a gazillion meals by now. This isn’t much, but at least you didn’t have to fix it. I talked Ruth into picking up a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine for me. It’s on the table.”

A bottle of red wine sat in the center of her table in the alcove. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask for beer.”

“With pizza? Gotta be chianti. Or sangiovese. Basically the same thing.”

“You know wine, too?”

“Some. Uncle Dev was a big wine connoisseur. He taught me about it. I’m more into beer. But I don’t have anything against wine.”

She weighed the pros and cons of taking over the salad. He probably didn’t have much experience with vinaigrette, but she could be wrong. Maybe he was a salad dressing master.

Relax. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

It didn’t. She just wanted to do it. This need to cook was a real handicap sometimes. She grabbed her waiter’s corkscrew and went to work on the wine bottle.

“You need some help?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m good. These corkscrews are easy to handle.” She popped the cork and pulled down a couple of glasses from the kitchen cabinet. “Thanks for doing this, but really, don’t feel like you owed it to me. I like cooking for people. Making dinner for you just meant filling an extra plate.”

“I appreciate it anyway.” He turned off the oven. “Is there a pizza cutter somewhere I can use?”

Peaches pulled open a drawer and handed him her pizza cutter. “Slice away.” She watched him pull the pizza from the oven then cut it into slices, gripping her hands at her sides so she wouldn’t help.

Please let it not suck. Please, please, please. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to fake her reaction if Colin’s dinner actually tasted like crap.

It didn’t. It wasn’t a gourmet experience, but it was perfectly okay. Now, will you relax?

Peaches sprinkled parmesan across her bowl of salad and smiled. “This is good. Thanks again for thinking of it.”

Colin’s grin looked a little apologetic. “I can open a box and turn on the oven. But that’s close to the limits of my culinary expertise.” He took a quick sip of his wine. “That’s good. My sense of taste must be coming back.”

“I guess it’s okay for you to be up and around. I saw Sara today, but I didn’t think to ask her.”

“I’m doing fine. The antibiotics worked. In fact, I think I’ll try going back to brewing tomorrow.”

Peaches’s heart skipped a beat. “So soon? You were really sick just a couple of days ago.”

“I know. I’m back on my feet, though. I think I can get started at the Salty Goat—I need to clean out the apartment, and then I can vacuum the deli in the evening.”

“But what if it’s dusty in the apartment? That won’t be good for your throat.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a weak argument.

“I’ll take it easy. It may take me a couple of days to get the place into shape, though. If you don’t mind, I’ll hang out here until I’ve got everything ready to go. I don’t want to try sleeping there until I’ve got it all straightened out.”

“Of course. You can stay here as long as you need to. Don’t worry about it.” She took a quick bite of pizza to hide her relief.

Oh, watch it, lady. Just watch it. He needs to get out of here before you get too attached.

“I need to get everything in place up there before I bring Wiseass over. I’m not sure how she’d react to chaos. It’s going to be enough of an adjustment for her as it is.”

Peaches’s heart fluttered again. She hadn’t imagined Wiseass leaving, too, but of course he’d want to take her to his new apartment. She’d be losing both of them.

They aren’t yours to lose, Peaches.

True enough. She couldn’t claim ownership of either of them. And she shouldn’t try. “I’ll miss her,” she managed.

“She’ll miss you, too. Maybe we can figure out some visiting hours.”

“Right.” Visiting hours with a dog and a man who weren’t really hers.

Which was much better in the long run. She had no business staking claims. She managed a smile. “Maybe I’ll just nip upstairs every once in a while and scratch her ears. She likes that.”

Colin’s smile faded. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us. I don’t know how we would have survived without you.”

Gratitude wasn’t what she wanted, but she wasn’t sure what she did want. Maybe to have someone take care of her now and then. Like Colin’s dinner. “I was glad to do it. I love Wiseass. She’s the sweetest dog ever.”

Colin set down his fork slowly. “She’s the first dog I ever had. The first one I remember, anyway. I think my mom had a poodle, but I’m not sure—I was pretty young at the time.”

Peaches bit her lip. She’d had her mom all her life. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like without her. “Do you remember her at all?”

“My mom?” He shook his head. “Not really. I don’t think she was too excited about having a kid to begin with. And then she died when I was three. I remember my dad, of course, when he was around. And I remember Devin.” He gave her another one of those guarded smiles. “What about your family?”

“Oh, I remember them,” she said drily. “All too well. I’ve got two brothers and a sister, all younger than me. I spent most of my childhood taking care of them while my mom worked. That’s how I learned to cook. Somebody had to feed the kids.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “Your dad?”

She shook her head. “Left us when I was seven. He might have paid some support, but I doubt it was much. My mom didn’t miss him a whole lot, except for having to take care of us kids on her own. I guess he was kind of a jerk, although he was a really good-looking guy.”

Sort of like you, at least the handsome part. She pushed the thought aside. Not all handsome men were jerks. Just a lot of them.

“At least you got a skill out of it,” he said.

“I did. Or the beginnings of one. I learned a lot more when I went to work in restaurants around Houston. And then there was Memphis. And then Jackson Hole. And Breckinridge. And here.” She smiled. “I like here best.”

“Do you still see them?”

“My family?” Her grin turned rueful. “I can’t keep them away. They used to think cooking for a living was weird, but then they started watching all the cooking shows on TV, and now they think I’m hot shit. My brothers come up every summer and hang out. My sister shows up every so often. She’s got kids of her own to take care of, but she hauls the whole family out here for the mountain air.”

“What about your mom?”

Peaches sighed. “Nope. Mama won’t leave Texas. I get back there now and then but not as much as I should. She always says when I have some kids of my own, I’ll come more often.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, but Peaches ignored it. She hadn’t asked him to father those kids, after all. “I’ve got some cookies we can have for dessert. Carol made them this afternoon.”

“Carol?”

“Ruth’s daughter.” She handed him an oatmeal cookie. The chocolate chip had been sold out before she could grab any.

Colin bit down, closing his eyes to savor. “Tell Carol she makes a hell of a cookie. This is terrific.”

“You can tell her yourself. You’ll meet her once you’ve moved into the Salty Goat, believe me.” She pushed herself to her feet. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

Colin finished his cookie, shaking his head. “Not on your life. The whole idea here was for you to take it easy. I’ve had days of sitting around, and I’ve got energy to spare.” He stepped up beside her, reaching for the dish cloth as she leaned up to turn on the light over the sink. His hand brushed across the side of her breast, sending an unexpected jolt of heat surging through her body.

Peaches stepped back, trying to rearrange her face into a disinterested smile. Colin blinked. “Sorry.”

“No problem. I just need to load the dishwasher. Why don’t you pour some more wine?” And step away from me before either of us does anything crazy.

Colin stared at her for a moment longer before he nodded. “Sure. You want to take it into the living room?”

Peaches bit her lip. She’d mainly been trying to get him to move back so she could collect herself. But the living room had its own set of perils, including a very soft couch.

So you’re going to be scared off by a piece of furniture? No, she wasn’t. Maybe she needed to rethink this whole keeping-her-distance thing. Maybe it was time for her to think about what she wanted, not what she thought she should want.

She took a breath. “Sounds great. Just give me a minute.”