Hollywood on Tap (Sweet Salvation Brewery 2)

Let it be.

Total crazy talk.

“Why just be okay when you can be more?”

He stiffened in his seat, and something dark flashed in his brown eyes. “So nothing but the best at any cost, huh?”

Just the way he said it, with such a cold, hard tone, sent a chill down her spine. Knowing she was treading on thin ice but not understanding why, she took a half step back and let out a cleansing breath. She’d sold more stubborn people than Sean on her ideas before. She could do it now.

“Not exactly.” Slowly, she slid the printout of her plan across the desk. “Take a look. You’ll see the changes are about improving efficiency and strengthening our production abilities.”

He stared at the papers but didn’t reach out to take them. “Part of what makes the Sweet Salvation Brewery special is the way we make our beer with care and commitment. It’s who we are.”

“Instead of thinking only the worst, why don’t you at least take a look?”

“You and your sisters own the place,” he snapped. “Why not just change everything by fiat?”

She considered it. It had happened at other businesses. Management had accepted her recommendations and told underlings it was this way or the highway. The results had always been tainted by the ensuing turnover and bitterness. The total brewery staff clocked in at twenty–five, many of whom had been there since the Sweet triplets were in middle school. Even a small change, if it wasn’t supported by key team members, could negatively affect the whole process and alienate the staff.

So why not just change everything by fiat?

“Because it’s not our style.” She shrugged and sat down on the corner of his desk. “We want your buy in.”

“What about you?” He dropped his arms and rolled his chair closer so that his knees almost touched her legs dangling from his desk. “What do you want?”

Electricity zapped between them, and she nearly fell into his deep–brown eyes—not to mention his lap.

Fighting to maintain proper decorum, she tapped the papers on his desk. “This is what I want.”

“No.” Sean leaned forward, his knee brushing against her leg. “What do you really want?”

Only his jeans and her winter tights kept them from skin–to–skin contact, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from going jittery and molten at once. Who was she kidding? A three–foot steel wall probably wouldn’t be enough for her not to notice him. The man was fast becoming her kryptonite.

She should move—but she didn’t.

“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation for employer and employee.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we were inappropriate.” He winked and scooted closer. Now his legs bracketed hers, and his palms rested flat on the desk, one on either side of her hips. “Did you forget yesterday? I haven’t.”

“You’re just trying to throw me off my game.” That came out way too breathy. What was it about this man that made her lose control so easily?

Sean rose from this chair but kept his hands planted on the desk. Leaning forward, he didn’t stop until his lips were millimeters from her ear. “Is it working?” he asked in a teasing growl.

Hell yes. “No.”

He chuckled. “Really?”

Low and rumbly, his single–word question sent desire spiraling through her like a tornado of want and need and gimmie–some–of–that–hottie–now desire. But everything was so new, she didn’t have enough data to understand what was going on. There wasn’t a flowchart for how to act when you’d fallen for an employee. So she scrambled to safer conversational ground.

“Really.” She pushed him away and stood before her lust overwhelmed her ability to breathe and think straight, her knees a little shakier than she wanted to admit even to herself, and delivered a pointed stare at his arm blocking her retreat.

He took a few steps back to give her room to escape. And that’s what it was; they both knew it.

“Read it.” She grabbed her clipboard from the desk and held it close. “After all, I was right about organizing your office.”

He glanced around at his still–clean office before giving her a half–smile that melted everything south of her waist and made her rethink the importance of oxygen. “One condition.”

Her heart tripped over itself and banged against her ribs. Her lips parted. “What’s that?”