Tap (Men of Lovibond 1)

“Thank you. You’re very sweet.” Wrong. I’m the furthest thing from sweet.

“It’s my pleasure. Would you care for another beer?”

She shakes her head. “Not right now. Maybe later.”

I don’t want to leave her alone again but I have a job to do. “I need to walk around and show my face since Lovibond is hosting this event.”

She waves her hand in my direction. “Of course you do.”

“It’s going to be hot and miserable, and probably boring as hell, but do you want to go with me to make the rounds?”

Beads of sweat rest on her forehead and upper lip. Her sunglasses have slid down her nose, so close to revealing the eyes behind them. I’m dying to see her eyes. I wonder what color they are. “You don’t need me in tow slowing you down. I’ll be fine right here. Go be a host to your people.”

I have sixteen booths to visit. People are going to expect me to hang around and talk. “I could be gone a while.”

“If you are, then you’re doing your job well.”

“I hate the thought of you sitting here alone.”

“I’ll grab another beer and people watch. I figure there’ll be some good entertainment to come along any minute. After all, this is a beer festival with sampling. Someone is bound to act like a fool soon.” She’s so easygoing. And comical.

“Okay. Do your people-watching thing and I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

She props her feet on the adjacent chair. “No hurry. Take your time. It’s all cool here.”

* * *

I’m tied up much longer than planned. Almost two hours. Lawrence has to be tired of sitting around waiting for me.

Shit. She’s gone. I hope she didn’t change her mind and take off on me.

I scan the crowd in search of a blonde topknot. I see plenty but none belong to her. My eyes seek her red sliced-and-diced Lovibond T-shirt. I think she’s dumped me.

“That’s some serious searching you’re doing there. Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find them.” Lawrence is standing next to me, pretending to look through imaginary binoculars over the swarm of people.

“I appreciate the offer but I think I may have found her.”

“Good.” She pretends to toss something over her shoulder. “These binoculars are shit.”

“I was planning to take you to an early dinner after I finished rounds, but I ran into someone who’s insisting I meet her and share an order of fried Oreos at one of the food trucks.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s possible to pass on her if there are going to be fried Oreos involved.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tilts her head. “We can meet up later. Or I can take a rain check if you’d like to have dinner with her instead.”

“I’d like to have dinner with her, but I’d also love for you to join us.”

She parts her mouth as though she’s going to say something but then stops.

“You can at least enjoy some fried Oreos with us.”

“I appreciate you offering to entertain me since Ollie isn’t here but it’s okay. I don’t want to horn in on your date.” This woman seriously thinks I’d asked her to dinner and then drop her for another woman?

“You’re not horning in. I want you to come or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“You don’t think she’ll mind?”

“No. She’s not like that at all.”

Lawrence sighs. “Okay. But I’m out of there if she seems the least bit pissed or irritated about me being around. I don’t do lady drama.” Another thing we have in common.

“Understood.”

Lawrence doesn’t have a lot to say on the walk to the food vendor area. I can tell she isn’t excited about this at all but she’ll change her mind soon enough.

“Unky Bou,” Ava yells as she runs into my arms. I don’t think this child’s feet ever touch the floor in my presence. “Where you been?”

Patience isn’t one of Ava’s strengths. “Someone excited for fried Oreos?”

Her little head bobs up and down. “Mmm hmm.”

“Can you forgive me for being late, love? I had to find my friend.”

She shrugs. “It’s otay.”

I twist so Ava is face to face with Lawrence. “This is my friend, Lawrence.”

“Hello. I Ava.”

Lawrence removes her sunglasses and places them on top of her head. Light blue surrounded by long lashes. Beautiful.

She squeezes Ava’s arm. “You are precious. Very nice to meet you, Ava.”

“I’m Bridgette and this is my husband, Warren.” And here comes the awkward moment where people put everything together. My ex-wife, the cheater. Her husband, my best friend with whom she cheated. Their child, the product of their union.

No one gets it. These are my buddies. I don’t hold any kind of grudge against them. I love them and their child.

“Nice to meet both of you.” If Lawrence puts together who they are, she never lets on by her reaction.

“Lawrence is Stout’s sister. She came to town to surprise him but he left before she got here.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. I know he must be disappointed he missed you. Do you live far away?”

“Savannah, Georgia.”

“That’s about a six-hour drive?” Warren asks.

“Yes. A very long six-hour drive when you’re by yourself.”

“The upside is the beer festival. Otherwise, I would imagine you’d have been forced to turn around and go home,” Warren says.

“Exactly.”

Ava pats her palm against my chest. “Unky Bou. Get cookies now?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” I look at Bridgette. “Does the other munchkin want some?”

She rests her hand on top of her swollen abdomen. “I probably shouldn’t but come on. We’re talking fried Oreos. I don’t know any pregnant woman who could say no to that.”

I look at Lawrence. “You wanna give ’em a try?”

She scrunches her nose. “None for me, but thanks.”

“Seriously?” Bridgette says.

“I’m vegan. I mostly eat all natural and organic if there’s a choice.” I’m not at all surprised. That kind of diet completely fits her lifestyle. “I probably should have told you that when you asked me to dinner.”

Bridgette straight

ens and looks at me, wearing a grin. “You’re having dinner together?”

“Yeah.”

I run through the list of food vendors in my head. Finch is a local, organic farmer. “I have an option for you when you’re ready—if you don’t mind eating at the festival.”

“No problem. I’m fine with eating here.”

“Hungry now?”

“Yeah. I’m starving. I haven’t had anything but beer since breakfast.”

“What about you guys?”

“We’ve been here all day so we’re ready to go but we’ve got to get these cookies for the princess before she has a fit. We’ve been putting her off all day,” Warren lowers his voice, “hoping she’d forget about them.”

Bridgette elbows me in the ribs. “And we’d done a right nice job until you came along.”

I tickle Ava’s chin. “Dessert before dinner. That’s how we roll, isn’t it, Bebelle?”

“Bebelle?” Lawrence asks.

“It’s Cajun French. It means doll.” And that’s what this little girl is to me. My doll.

Ava cackles. “Yes, Unky Bou. Cookies.”

Bridgette rolls her eyes. “She’s rotten thanks to you, Boudreaux.”

I tilt my head toward Bridgette. “And your p’tit boug will be, too.” But he won’t be sweet and delicate like Ava. I’ll make him rough and tough.

Bridgette shakes her head. “You hear that? Boudreaux’s planning to ruin my baby boy as well.”

“Ava knows I can’t tell her no.”

“And she enjoys every moment of it,” Warren says.

I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug. “What can I say? I spoil my beb and she loves it.”

Ava pushes her finger through the powdered sugar littering our table, drawing pictures. The mess reminds me of Café du Monde. Minus the pigeons.

“Don’t do that, Ave.” Bridgette fetches a wet wipe from her bag and cleans her daughter’s hands. Always sanitizing her. Bridgette better get ready. A boy won’t go for that.

“What do you think of the cookies, Bebelle?”