Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

“Sláinte,” Eric said, and they all tipped the glasses to their lips. Richness filled his mouth, flowing with the bitter hint of dark chocolate, sweetened by the malt. At the very end, smoky pepper touched his tongue.

“Christ, that’s smooth,” Jamie said.

Wallace didn’t smile. “Yeah?”

Eric nodded. “This is it. A one-hundred-percent improvement over the last batch. It’s gorgeous.”

Wallace’s eyes tilted a bit, as if he’d finally dared a small smile. Eric couldn’t be sure past the beard.

The brewmaster took another drink and wiped the foam off his facial hair. “I was thinking end of November,” he said.

“It’ll be perfect for winter,” Jamie agreed.

Eric nodded, but he wasn’t sure. “Any chance we could do a limited rollout by mid-October? It could be a nice Halloween beer.”

“No,” Jamie said before Wallace could answer. “We’ve got the Harvest Ale, not to mention the work on rolling out the restaurant. And we haven’t even decided on a name for this one, much less started a logo. It’d never get approved by the liquor board in time.”

Wallace’s eyes darted from Jamie to Eric as if he were waiting for an argument. His anticipation wasn’t unfounded. Eric felt his neck tighten to rock. Jamie’s words sounded like thrown fists, they were so hard.

Eric wanted to throw a few hard words back. He was the one who made these decisions, not Jamie. But Jamie was shouldering his way into the decision-making process now. A good thing, Eric assured himself. “Fine. Late November.”

“And the name?” Jamie pressed.

“We’ll talk about it.”

His brother scowled. “It’s a good name. Wallace, you like it, right? It was your idea.”

Wallace shrugged one massive shoulder. “You two work it out.”

“Good work, Wallace,” Eric said as Wallace turned to retreat back to his tank room. It was his personal cave, and even though it belonged to the Donovans he growled like an ogre at anyone who entered without his permission.

Just as Wallace disappeared, the back door opened and their sister, Tessa, walked in on a shaft of morning sunlight. She was like a Disney character, bringing happiness and smiles with her. Eric used to joke about seeing bluebirds darting around her head. But after the past few months, he no longer looked for bluebirds. Little Tessa was all grown up now, and she had a man living in her house to prove it.

“What’s going on?” she asked, strolling over.

“It’s the new chocolate stout.” He dipped his head toward the glass.

Tessa poured herself a sample and tried it. “Oh, so much better! It’s perfect. I love the kick at the end.”

“We’re going to roll it out in November. I’ll need you to start the logo process. I’ll deal with the liquor board.”

“Did we decide on the name?”

Jamie smirked. “Everyone still loves Devil’s Cock, but Eric’s scared.”

“I’m not scared. I just don’t want to offend anyone.”

Tessa tilted her head. “I think it’s fine. You know, names and logos are getting more and more edgy. And the logo will be a rooster, right? With devil horns?”

Eric crossed his arms and shifted.

“Jesus Christ,” Jamie barked. “You were on board with it a few months ago.”

“I only said I’d consider it.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Jamie said, leaning toward him as if he meant to share a secret. “Why don’t you try manning up?”

Eric dropped his hands, balling them into fists. “Excuse me?”