Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

“Sounds like you’re an enterprising young man,” her dad said.

Eric didn’t know about the young part. Though he felt a bit like a teenager tonight, caught between the girl he wanted to feel up and her eagle-eyed father.

“You must be a very special man to have taken all that on at such a young age,” her dad continued, raising his eyebrows.

“I just did what had to be done,” Eric said. “And there are plenty of men who have jobs and families at twenty-four. It’s nothing special.”

Her dad slid his eyes toward Beth. “He’s a good one.”

“Dad,” she said flatly, a pink flush spreading over her cheekbones.

“Do you like my daughter, Eric?”

Oh, Jesus. Eric snatched up his glass of wine to buy a moment. Did he like her? More like he wanted to

drive her straight home and carry her into his house and straight to his bed. So far his relationship with Beth Cantrell had been about fifty percent lust and fifty percent guilt, but tonight was tipping it out of balance.

“Of course, Mr. Cantrell,” he finally said. “She’s a wonderful woman.” He added, “Everybody likes her,” trying for a compliment, but it ended up sounding suspiciously like a cop-out.

The server came to offer the dessert menu again, and Eric and Beth stared at each other while her father discussed pie with the waitress. “And what about you two? Would you like something?”

“No!” they both said.

Beth squeezed her dad’s hand. “You need to get home, Dad. It’s late. If you get into an accident, Mom will never forgive you.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. “Especially if I spill the pie.”

Beth nodded solemnly while Eric said a quick prayer that this was almost over. It was still sinking in. His stomach still felt high in his throat from the moment he’d looked up and seen her standing there with a dapper older gentleman. Not what he’d expected from the evening. Not at all.

And yet, it was fascinating to watch Beth be someone else. Not the sexy, confident, unflappable woman from the White Orchid, but the daughter of this man who was obviously a big believer in old-fashioned values. She crossed her legs and slumped a little in her chair, her eyes on her father’s hand as she tapped her thumb against his.

When she looked up and caught Eric’s gaze, she mouthed, I’m sorry, and suddenly all this was hilarious. Absurd. How the hell had a no-strings-attached night of sex ended with him meeting Beth’s father and answering pointed questions about family and values?

Eric suddenly couldn’t stop a smile. Beth looked away, but he saw her mouth tighten at the edges.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure,” her dad said as he stood, setting his hat on his head with a flourish.

Beth stood. “Where are you going?”

He gestured toward the waitress, who approached with a box that clearly held a whole pie. “I’ve got to get this home to your mother. But you two stay and enjoy. I ordered you apple pie à la mode. To share.”

“Dad—”

“Nonsense. Eric will see you safely home, won’t you, Eric?”

“Of course,” Eric said, standing, as well.

Her dad signed the check and shrugged his coat on.

“Thank you for the wine, sir,” Eric said, putting a lot of thought into the right pressure of his handshake, which was strange. What could it matter what kind of impression he made on Beth’s dad?

He was still mulling that over as Beth finished hugging her father. Their pie arrived, vanilla ice cream pooling in the plate as it melted.

“Oh. My. God,” Beth groaned as she collapsed into her chair. “I can’t…I don’t even know what to say. I’m…horrified, to say the least.”

“It’s all right,” he said, as if it were.

“Eric. God.”