Trouble on Tap (Sweet Salvation Brewery 3)
Chaos erupted. Barks and hisses as the cat peered over the edge of the island and glared at the dog. Wagging tails and sharp claws as the dog jumped and spun in place with the cat taking swipes whenever it could. Total fucking insanity ensued as the fur flew when the cat made contact.
He and Olivia jumped apart. He grabbed the dog’s collar while she scooped up the cat. For half a breath, sanity returned. Then the three-legged cat sprung from Olivia’s grasp and skedaddled right out the open back door. The dog broke Mateo’s hold and sped out after the feline.
All Mateo could do was wonder what in the hell had just happened. “Want me to go after them?”
Olivia peeked out of the window and shook her head. “It’s okay. Handsome’s perched on top of the shed.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. The unfamiliar sound just bubbled up inside of him and erupted out. “You named that ugly thing Handsome?”
“At least he has a name.” She grabbed a mug from the counter and poured herself some coffee. You need to give one to the dog.”
“He’s not mine.” He’d said it a thousand times, but each denial was becoming weaker.
“Don’t tell him that, he’d be heartbroken.” She sat down on one of the stools surrounding the island and sipped her steaming coffee as she looked out the window at her cat ignoring the dog, who was still losing his damn mind. The sun caught in her hair, turning the honey strands golden.
The whole scene was foreign to him. In the days before his last fateful tour, he’d never had women stay the night. He’d always gone to their place or a hotel. It just kept things neater; the less involvement, the cleaner it would be when he walked away—and he’d always walked away.
Even from Olivia, the single person he’d spent years running toward, if only for a weekend at a time.
By the time he’d realized what an idiot he’d been for turning down her offer of making their arrangement more like a relationship, he was in a strange country with the explosion ringing in his ears and his friends’ blood dripping down his face.
Yet here he was, sitting in his kitchen with Olivia, and instead of rushing her out the door, the urge to linger had him glued to his stool. Maybe her coming back to Salvation wasn’t his penance. Maybe it was a second chance…if he had the balls to go after it.
“Breakfast.” He pushed a plate of waffles her way as he tried to figure out what to say. Small talk wasn’t in his wheelhouse. It wasn’t even in the same country. So he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. “Explain to me why this fundraiser is such a big deal for you. It looks like it’s been nothing but headaches so far. Why not just say fuck it?”
She used her fork to slide her cut-up waffles around her plate, refusing to look up at him. “I can’t.”
No doubt Olivia had secondary motives for the fundraiser, but he couldn’t make Hawson’s theory about it all being a plot to get her back into the spotlight jive with the woman nervously chewing a hole in her bottom lip. “Why not?”
“Between us?”
He nodded, not liking the way her body was curling inward as if she could hide inside herself. His dormant protector instinct woke and stomped its way up from the deep dark hole where he’d buried it.
Olivia set her fork down on her plate, folded her hands in her lap and raised her face so their gazes locked. “Miranda’s pregnant.”
How this hadn’t made the gossip rounds at The Kitchen Sink yet, he had no idea. That was some CIA-level secret-keeping there. “And you think rebuilding the veterans’ center will make the town think better of your family before the new member comes along.”
“Exactly.” Her face lit up and the hope he saw in her blue eyes punched him right in the kidney.
Her plan made sense in a convoluted Sweet sort of way, but the town mayor had super-villain level determination when it came to keeping Salvation as his personal Sweet-hating fiefdom. “You’re in trouble.”
“Really?” She snorted. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’ve got to figure out a way to outflank Hawson.” And the mayor was loaded for bear. It wasn’t going to be easy.
“If only I could just—”
She suddenly jumped off her stool and did an excited shimmy dance that lifted the T-shirt up to her hips, showing off everything that was bare beneath. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” He shifted. Now was not the time for his dick to go back to aching hardness.
“I just need to get some face time with people.” She paced from one end of the kitchen to the other, gesturing wildly with her hands as she talked out her plan of attack. “If I can convince them that this is a win-win for everyone, then the veterans will get a new center and the town won’t have the ruined building as an eyesore.”
“And your niece or nephew may have a better reception from Salvation than you or your sisters did.”
She stopped in her tracks and the hopeful light that had lit her up from the inside flickered. “The problem is, how do I get folks to sit down with me? No one showed up for the volunteer training.”
Shock and awe wasn’t what she needed. It was hearts and minds time. “You need to go one-on-one and forge relationships in hostile territory. You can do it, but having an envoy might help.”