Chapter Three

At a quarter to one, Colin hiked along the country road he’d used back in the day to get to the brewery. Wiseass padded along beside him, trying to avoid the snow. Antero Brewing should still be in the same place, although Liam hadn’t actually said as much. He was slightly reassured by the sign for the brewery at the intersection. He’d helped paint it back when they’d decided they needed to be identified. When they’d first agreed they were an honest-to-God brewery.

He paused, taking in a lungful of freezing air as he stared across the road at the white-limbed pines. Once upon a time there’d been picnic tables, but now they’d be covered by snow if they were still there. He and the Dempseys had come outside for lunch most days. He closed his eyes for a moment. He’d forgotten what it was like to live at high altitude. That was the reason for the sudden ache in his chest, nothing more.

Putting it off, Brooks? Yeah, in a way he was. Even though he’d been preparing for this meeting for days, he still wasn’t looking forward to it. He just hoped he didn’t end up getting punched again. His jaw was still a little sore.

He climbed the icy steps to the front door then pulled it open and stepped inside. Immediately, he was hit by a sensual memory so powerful it almost knocked him to his knees. The smell of toasting grain, yeast, and the essence of beer. He’d lived with that smell for over a year, what now seemed like some of the happiest months of his life. He’d deliberately avoided breweries since then, largely because he didn’t want reminders.

And now here he was, reliving his brewing experience. Minus the joy.

Someone walked out on the brewery floor, and Colin squinted. It wasn’t anyone he recognized—not Bec or Liam—just an anonymous man. Maybe someone who worked at the brewery. “Hello?”

The man turned toward him, not smiling. “Colin Brooks?”

Colin nodded.

“I’m Wyatt Montgomery. Bec’s fiancé.”

If anyone was going to punch him—other than Bec herself—it was most likely to be this guy. Colin did a quick evaluation. Wyatt was maybe a little taller than Liam, and it looked like he worked out. His dark sweater showed more than a few muscles.

Shit. This is going to hurt.

Colin cleared his throat. “I was looking for Liam and Bec. Are they here?”

“They’re in the office.” Montgomery headed across the floor toward the side door, and Colin followed, pulling Wiseass along behind him. He remembered the office vaguely. The last time he’d been there, it had been full of leftover filing cabinets and desks from the building’s years as a warehouse.

Now it looked like a living room, complete with chairs and couches and a dining room table at the side. He led Wiseass to the linoleum, hoping her paws weren’t too muddy. “Is someone living here?”

“Bec was. We just moved into a condo.”

Colin blinked. “Why would Bec be living in the old office area at the brewery?”

“To save money after the brewery closed down,” Wyatt said, his tone clipped. “Because you left.”

Colin fought down the immediate flush of guilt. He couldn’t afford it. Right now, he needed to focus on what came next and what he wanted.

The door that had once led to the break room swung open, and Bec walked in. Another of those pangs he’d experienced ever since he’d walked up Main Street washed over him. She was a wild mountain girl, all red hair and blue eyes, and he’d come close to loving her.

Then he’d thrown it all away. Pull it together, Brooks. You need talk this through, not drown in your own guilt.

“Hi, Bec,” he said. Which seemed way too mundane for this meeting.

Bec raised an eyebrow. “Colin.” She glanced at Wiseass. “Is that your dog?”

He nodded. “Her name’s Wiseass. She’s new to Colorado, not used to this cold. She’s a California pup.”

Bec looked like she was going to comment then didn’t.

“Is Liam here?” he asked.

She nodded. “He’s working on something on the brewery floor. He’ll be here in a minute.” She walked over to stand next to Montgomery, who looked like he’d enjoy punching Colin out.

“Oh.” He wracked his brain for something else to say, but nothing seemed right. You’re looking well. How are things going? So you’re getting married? The atmosphere was too charged for small talk.

Liam walked into the moment of uncomfortable silence, wiping his hands on a towel. He glanced at Colin. “Want some coffee?”

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Then let’s get this thing started.” He moved to the dining room table and dropped into a chair.

Colin took the chair opposite him, while Wiseass curled up at his feet. Bec sat at the end. He’d expected Montgomery to sit next to Bec, but he sank into one of the chairs in the living room, there but not really there.

Colin took a breath. “I owe you an explanation. And an apology.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Liam muttered.

Bec said nothing.

“When I left, I’d just gotten some bad news. My half brother did a hostile takeover of the family investment business. My uncle had known it was coming, but he didn’t tell me about it until it was too late to fight back. He called, told me there was big trouble, and said I needed to get home as soon as possible. I tried to call him back the next day, but the housekeeper told me he’d been taken to the hospital.”

He had a brief flashback to the terror that call had inspired. Lord, that had been an awful day. “He was seriously ill. He didn’t tell me about that, either. He died a couple of months ago. When I pulled out of here, I didn’t know what was happening in San Diego, just that all hell seemed to be breaking loose, and I couldn’t get anyone to tell me what was going on. I didn’t take as much time to explain it to you as I should have because I was panicked. I hoped I’d be able to come back and give you the details once things got squared away. Only things never got squared away. I paid off as many bills here as I could before I left, but some of my accounts were already frozen, and by the time I got home, most of my money was tied up.”

He’d somehow managed to condense several months of agony into a paragraph. Which didn’t make it any less painful but at least helped him push through.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “What happened with your half brother?”

“He took over the company. He’s still in charge, too, after he managed to squeeze out both my uncle and me. The whole thing is in court, but I’ve got nothing right now, and chances are I won’t get anything in the future, either.” He paused again. “I’ve only got one thing left.”

“That sounds ominous,” Liam said. “What does it mean, anyway?”

Colin released a tension-filled sigh. “It means a lot of things. First of all, it means I came back here with zilch, other than a car and a dog. That’s it. And the car broke down when I pulled into Antero.” He glanced down at Wiseass peacefully snoozing with her nose on his boot. “When my half brother took over, he also challenged my uncle’s management of the company. According to Patrick, my uncle Devin basically bankrupted the two of us and made my shares next to worthless. He says I owe them money, since I’m Devin’s heir. It’s complex and a mess, and it’s in court. But the bottom line is I’ve got nada. Patrick took it all.”

“Is his money frozen, too?” Bec looked curious rather than pissed now.

“He has the advantage of being the one who took the reins. So he’s managed to hang onto his assets—most of them, anyway.”

Bec might have softened slightly, but Liam obviously hadn’t. “Okay, sucks to be you. But I don’t see how this has anything to do with us. If you’re hoping for a loan, you’re out of luck. We’ve got no money to spare, even if we wanted to help you. Which we don’t.”

Colin took a breath. “I said I still have one thing left. Antero Brewing.”

There was a moment of shocked silence. Then, predictably, Liam went ballistic.

“What the fuck? You’re not part of Antero anymore. You took off, remember? And before you took off, I distinctly remember you told us you were out and not to expect anything more from you. Trust me on this—I remember it really, really well. We had to shut down because you pulled out and left us with nothing to pay what was left of the bills.”

“I know.” Colin nodded. “I did say that. But we never dissolved the partnership agreement we signed before we started brewing. Which means, no matter what I said, I’m still a one-third partner.”

Wyatt Montgomery stood up and walked behind Bec. “I’d say that agreement was nullified when you withdrew your financial support. I mean, money is the only thing you brought to the table, right?”

“Yes and no.” Colin turned toward him, trying to sound calm. “We all put money in, but I put in the most. We all did the brewing, too, so I was also part of that. And who was bringing what to the table wasn’t spelled out in the original partnership papers. We were all treated as equals.”

Montgomery turned to Liam. “Is that true?”

Liam closed his eyes. He was either trying to visualize the partnership agreement or praying for patience. Maybe both. “Probably,” he finally said. “We trusted each other. Once.” He opened his eyes again to stare at Colin. “Are you going to sue us to get back in, Brooks?”

“No. I just want to brew beer.” He held Liam’s gaze for a long moment. Don’t push it. Please don’t push it.

“We’ll buy you out, then,” Bec said flatly. “How much do you want?”

Liam glanced at her, his expression unreadable.

“I’d rather go back to working with you than sell out or go to court.” Colin’s shoulders were so tense they ached, but he stayed still. “That’s why I came back.”

“No.” The word almost exploded from Bec. She gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were white. “You can’t work here. I won’t let you. You have to sell out to us.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Liam said. “He can’t.”

Bec whirled to face him. “What do you mean? You want him back here in the brewery?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. Or what you want as far as that goes.” Liam sighed. “We’re in the middle of opening the brewpub. We’ve pumped everything we’ve got into that. We can’t buy him out—not until we’re seeing a profit again.”

Bec’s shoulders squared, and her hands fisted at her sides. She looked like she wanted to throw something, probably something lethal. “Goddammit, Liam…”

Wyatt shook his head. “He’s right, Bec. We’re stuck right now.” He glanced back at Colin again. “You may want to get back into Antero Brewing, but you’re not going to be making any money on the deal, Brooks. I estimate it will take us at least a year before we’re in the black again, given the expenses we ran up getting the brewpub ready to go. And even then, the profits aren’t going to be that much.”

Colin leaned back in his chair, feigning relaxation he didn’t feel. “That’s okay. I didn’t figure on making a lot of money on this. I just wanted to get back to brewing again.”

“Why?” Liam shook his head. “Why do you want to do that for no money with a couple of hostile partners?”

“Because I miss it. It’s something I was good at. Something I enjoyed.” One of the few things, actually.

Liam said nothing. At least he didn’t deny Colin had been good at brewing. Once.

“You may be brewing,” Bec said flatly, “but you won’t be brewing here. This building is where I work. Consider it off-limits from now on.” She gave him the kind of look that might once have reduced him to ashes. Apparently, he’d become fire-proof.

Liam broke the silence. “The storage building. You can have that.”

Montgomery frowned. “What storage building?”

“The one behind the warehouse. Where Dad used to keep the heavy equipment.”

“The one that used to be a repair shop?” Bec asked.

Liam nodded. “It’s concrete block and enclosed. There’s water. There’s even heat, although I’m not sure how well it works, since the building’s not insulated. You want to brew? You can brew there. Just leave us alone.”

Montgomery shook his head. “Wait a minute. What happens to the beer he brews? What if it’s lousy?”

“If it’s lousy, he eats the loss. If it’s passable, we sell it. He gets the same deal we do.” He regarded Colin with cool eyes. “Like Wyatt said, though, nobody’s taking profits from the business. So you aren’t, either. Anything you make goes back into the pot. Until we’re healthy enough to start operating in the black. For now, Bec’s the only one on salary at the brewery because she’s in charge. You can brew to your heart’s content, but you won’t make any money off it directly. Not for a while. Maybe not ever. You’ll be a pariah unless you can show us you’re worth trusting again.”

Fair enough. Colin ignored the hollow feeling in his chest.

Liam leaned back in his chair, considering. “In fact, I’ll make you a deal, Brooks. We’re opening the brewpub this spring—maybe March, but most likely April. I’ll give you until then to make a brew we can serve at the pub. Something we don’t already have, that people will want to buy. Something new and good, in other words. If you can do that, I’ll withdraw any objections to your coming back here full time. If you can’t, you’ll agree to pull out. That gives you around four months to show you’ve got talent as a brewer. If you can’t do it, you’ll leave us in peace.”

Colin managed the ghost of a smile. “Okay. Fair enough. I’ll need a brew setup.”

“You can have my old home brewing outfit.” Liam’s lips spread in a mirthless smile. “You should remember it. It’s what we used to use.”

He did remember it. He and Liam had done enough experimental runs on the thing, back before he became the enemy. “That’ll work.”

“I don’t like this,” Bec snapped. “I don’t like anything about it. Why does he get to make beer for the brewpub opening?”

“It’ll work, sis.” Liam sounded much more rational now. “If he’s as good as he thinks he is, he’ll come up with a beer we can use. And he has four months to do it. But he doesn’t work with us, and we don’t have to see him every day. And if he blows it, he’s gone.”

Colin kept his expression blank. That’s okay. Talk among yourselves. At this point, he didn’t much care how he got what he needed as long as he got it.

Bec pushed herself to her feet, giving Colin another of those laser-eyed stares. “All right. You win. You don’t deserve it, and you should be embarrassed about coming back like this, but you win. And I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to be around you. You stay in your place and I’ll stay in mine. I’m done, Colin. I’m absolutely done with you.” She turned on her heel and headed back through the side door, slamming it behind her.

Colin sat still, staring down at his hands. Would she feel better if she knew he really was embarrassed, even ashamed? Probably not. But he’d learned to work through shame, just like he’d learned to work through misery. Devin was gone; his family was gone. And this was all he had left. He’d hold onto it with both hands, even if it hurt like hell.

Across from him, Liam stood. “You want to see your new working area, Brooks?”

“Sure.” He stood himself, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. Wiseass staggered to her feet, still sleepy.

Liam turned to Montgomery. “You want to come along?”

“No, I’ll stay with Bec.” He glanced at Colin, his face grim. “For what it’s worth, I’ll go double on what she said. Stay away from her. Stay away from the main part of the brewery. You got what you wanted, for now.”

“I intend to. I won’t bother her.”

Montgomery gave him one last burning look then headed after his fiancée.

“Well, that went well.” Liam regarded him sardonically. “You want to look around the building before I exile you to your shed?”

“Yeah.” He was more than glad to get away from the room still brimming with Bec’s anger. He headed back to the brewery floor.

The familiar smell hit him again, and he smiled. No matter what happened now, he at least had some of what he wanted. He was back in the brewing business. At least for four months. Now he had to show everybody else he still knew what he was doing.

He had to be the man Dev had thought he was.

Liam pointed in the general direction of the far wall. “New bottling line. The rest of it hasn’t changed since you were here.”

The mash tuns and brewing pots loomed over the floor, casting shadows in the dim light. He’d almost forgotten how big they were. Judging by what he was seeing—the cases of bottles, the sheets of labels, the unfamiliar names—Antero Brewing was doing well.

No thanks to you.

That went without saying. No thanks to him at all. But he’d do what he could to make up for it.

Liam pushed open the door to the loading dock, and Colin followed him out into the frigid winter air, nudging a drowsy Wiseass down the stairs.

“Watch your step. There’s ice.” Liam didn’t bother looking back. Maybe he hoped Colin would slip and break his neck. That would take care of a lot of problems.

They crossed the lot behind the main brewery building. He saw some vague shapes covered by snow, probably discarded equipment from the brewery. He might need to check them out sometime to see if he could scavenge anything to use in the shed. He had a feeling Liam wasn’t going to supply much beyond the rudimentary parts of the brewing setup.

Liam pulled a key from his pocket and stopped in front of a cinder block building at the side. It was the size of a two-car garage, which was a good thing. On the downside, Colin didn’t see any windows. He remembered the building, but only vaguely. They’d never used it for anything he could recall. Liam reached on the wall to flip the fluorescent lights on and stepped aside to let him in.

It was…basic. Cement floor, cinder block walls, some trash piled in a corner. There was a utility sink against one wall, so Liam hadn’t lied about the water, assuming it was operational. There were outlets along the baseboards. Colin stepped to the sink and twisted the faucet. The pipes made a groaning sound, as if they hadn’t been used in quite a while, and the water from the faucet had a rusty tinge. But at least it was flowing. He’d half expected ice.

He also saw the corner of a toilet from behind a screen at the side. Probably needed to be cleaned up, but at least he wouldn’t have to sneak into the brewery to pee.

The temperature inside was freezing. He turned to Liam. “You said there was heat.” No way could he make beer at this level of cold. Although the fire under the mash tun would provide a little warmth, it couldn’t possibly heat the whole place.

Liam pointed toward a baseboard heater at the side. “That’s it. You can always buy a portable heater to supplement if you think it’s too chilly.” He gave Colin a bland smile.

Colin knew he couldn’t afford a portable heater for the foreseeable future. “What about the brewing setup?”

“I’ll bring it over. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I’ve got to get to work.”

“At the brewpub?”

Liam nodded. “That’s my job now—getting it up and running.”

Colin considered asking if he needed a hand, but there didn’t seem to be any point. Liam wasn’t going to let him work at the pub, and Bec wouldn’t let him work at the brewery. That left him needing a job somewhere else.

Liam pulled his key ring out of his pocket and loosened a key. “Here. That’s the one for the building. I’ve got a duplicate back in the office, so I can bring the brewing setup over. After that, you’re on your own.”

“Understood.” He watched Liam leave then turned to the baseboard heater. If the thing didn’t work, he was probably going to freeze to death.

On the other hand, he finally had a rent-free place to sleep and keep Wiseass. Assuming he could scrape together enough money to buy a cot and maybe a chair. Finding a source of income was next on the priority list.

After that, he’d see what he could do to brew a little beer and start trying to work his way back into the Dempseys’ good graces.

The hatred in Bec’s eyes… Somehow, he’d make it go away.

He glanced down at Wiseass’s bright gaze, and her tail started wagging. “You still love me, right, pooch?”

She gave him her usual answer, enthusiastically licking his chin.

He sighed, hugging her warm body against his chest. Did it count as rock bottom when the only one who cared about you was a dog?