Chapter 8
Merri
The produce section of Pelican Point Market smells like fresh herbs and citrus, and I'm debating regular versus heirloom tomatoes, squeezing them gently to test for ripeness.
I've been eyeing the same two varieties for probably three minutes now, completely zoned out, when someone taps me on the shoulder.
"Merri Gallagher! Just the person I was looking for."
I turn to find Quinn Kavanaugh, the new owner of Kavanaugh's Korner, Pelican Point's well-known Irish pub. A flowing dress in deep purple drapes around her and, combined with her cascade of red hair and vivid green eyes, the effect is part woodland fairy, part witch. And very Quinn.
"Hey Quinn. It’s good to see you."
"I wanted to talk to you about a business proposition," Quinn says, her gaze sparkling with enthusiasm. "I've cut ties with our previous brewer, and I'd love to put The Sassy Siren on tap at Kavanaugh's Korner. Your beers would be perfect for my customers."
My heart does a little jump. Getting my beer into Quinn's pub has been on my wish list for over a year.
"Are you serious? Quinn, that would be amazing.
Absolutely, we can work that into our distribution schedule.
" I'm already mentally running through my current tap list, figuring out which beers would work best for an Irish pub crowd.
"Wonderful!" Quinn beams at me. "And I heard about your collaboration with Recon Roasters.
The whole town's buzzing about it. I'm really looking forward to trying that coffee beer when it's ready.
" She pulls out her phone, tapping a quick note to herself.
"I'll place the initial order through your distributor next week.
We can start with three taps and see how it goes from there. "
"That sounds perfect. Thank you, Quinn." We exchange a quick hug, and she gives my arm a friendly squeeze before heading toward the bakery section, her purple dress flowing behind her like something out of a storybook.
I'm so lost in thought that I jump when something bumps my hip. Heather Winslow grins at me from behind her shopping cart. We've been friends since grade school, long before she became the town librarian. Her dark hair is pulled back in a cute messy bun, and she looks genuinely happy to see me.
"Heather! Damn, girl. I haven't seen you in forever. How are you?"
"Good! Great, actually." She glances at my empty basket. "Are you in a rush, or do you have time for coffee? Julie just put out fresh cinnamon rolls at Just Desserts, and I'm dying for one."
I check my watch. It's only 10:30 AM, and I don't need to be at the brewery until this afternoon when Wyatt comes by for the second tasting. And then we’re going to dinner afterward… The thought sends a flutter through my stomach that I'm choosing to ignore.
"Sure, why not? I could use a caffeine fix and some girl talk."
"Perfect!"
We abandon our shopping carts at the customer service desk and walk the two blocks to Just Desserts. The smell of fresh bread and sugar hits me the moment we walk in, and my mouth starts watering.
Julie waves from behind the counter. "Heather! Merri! What can I get you ladies?"
"Two coffees and two cinnamon rolls," Heather says, already pulling out her wallet. "My treat."
"You don't have to—"
"I insist. Consider it payment for the recent entertainment you've been providing the entire town."
I blink. "Excuse me. The what?"
Heather smirks, edging me aside as she pays for our order. We grab a table by the window, and I wait until we're both settled with our massive cinnamon rolls and steaming cups of coffee before the interrogation.
"What did you mean by entertainment?" I hiss.
"Oh, come on." Heather takes a bite of her cinnamon roll, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You and Wyatt Dalton working together on a competition? Merri, you got the grapevine lit up. Everyone's taking bets on what's going to happen."
I nearly choke on my coffee. "They're what?"
"Taking bets. Whether you'll kill each other, if you'll actually win the competition, whether you'll…" She pauses, waving her hands in the air. "Well, let's just say there are a lot of theories floating around."
"Holy lord," I groan, dropping my face into my hands. "This is mortifying."
"It's hilarious! Come on, you have to admit it's pretty entertaining. The great Gallagher-Dalton feud suddenly on hold? For a competition where you have to be partners, no less? It's like the plot of a romantic comedy, or the setup of a murder mystery. Nobody is quite sure which."
"It's not romantic," I say quickly, pointing a finger at her. "Believe me when I say, Wyatt and I are only doing this because they forced our hand. Otherwise I’d be stomping his ornery ass into the ground."
"Uh-huh." Heather doesn't look convinced. "So how's it going? I take it you haven’t killed him yet."
"Nope." I take a bite of my cinnamon roll and practically moan.
"Wyatt's been surprisingly decent. He keeps this little nerdy notebook in his pocket and takes notes like some kind of brewing geek.
If it were anyone else, it'd actually be kind of cute.
" I pause. "He even helped clean the back room yesterday. Which is exactly why I don't trust it."
Heather looks at me like I've grown a second head. "Nice? Wyatt Dalton is being nice to you?" She shakes her head. "Did the world flip upside down?"
"Right? It's bizarre." Thank god someone else gets how weird this is. "But the beer we're making is actually incredible. We’re testing it again this afternoon to check the coffee infusion."
"And?" Heather’s grin turns wicked.
"And what?"
She levels me with a deadpan stare. "After the tasting this afternoon? What else?"
I hesitate, then decide what the hell. Heather's gonna find out anyway. If she’s right about the grapevine, the whole town will probably be buzzing about it. "We're having dinner to discuss business."
Heather nearly spits out her coffee, her eyes bulging. "Holy shit! I knew it! You're going on a date with Wyatt Dalton."
The word "date" lands like a punch. "No! It's just research for the competition, that’s all."
"Riiiiiight. Research." Heather grins so wide I'm worried her face might split. "Merri, it’s absolutely a date."
"It's not—"
"Does it involve the two of you, food, and conversation?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then it's a date." She leans forward, lowering her voice. "And honestly? Good for you. Wyatt Dalton is ridiculously hot. If I wasn't head over heels for Logan and planning a wedding, I'd be all over that."
My face burns. Is there a hole nearby I can crawl into? "You know it's not like that. We can barely stand each other most of the time."
"Maybe not yet. But come on. The man looks like he was chiseled from marble and any guy who knows his way around a coffee roaster has to be great in bed. Why not have some fun?"
I scoff. "Because he's spent the last twenty years being an insufferable ass?"
"Exactly!" She throws her hands up. "That’s decades of unresolved tension, textbook enemies-to-lovers scenario. You should just sleep with him and get it over with."
I gasp. "Heather Winslow! Have you lost your mind?"
"What? I'm just saying, you've got this opportunity. Don't waste it." She takes another bite of cinnamon roll, waggling her brows. "Besides, from what I hear, military guys are very thorough."
I'm fairly certain my face is now the color of a fire truck. "We are not having this conversation."
"Fine." But she's still grinning. "Just promise me you'll actually enjoy yourself tonight. Stop thinking of him as your enemy for five minutes and see what happens."
"I'll try." I check my watch and realize I've been here longer than intended. Grocery shopping will have to wait. "I should get going. I need to prep for this afternoon."
"Go. Have fun. And Merri?" Heather's expression turns genuine. "I really am happy for you. About the brewery, the competition, all of it. You've worked so hard, and you deserve good things. You’re gonna win."
My chest tightens with emotion. "Thanks, Heather. And congratulations on the engagement. When's the wedding?"
"Next spring. You're invited, obviously. And bring a plus-one if you want." She winks. "You might have someone in mind."
I shake my head. "You're impossible."
"I know!"
My mind races as I head back to the brewery. The whole town's watching us. Taking bets on what happens next. And tonight, I'm having dinner with Wyatt Dalton. But it’s not a date…
Who am I kidding?
By the time Wyatt arrives that afternoon, I'm wound tight as a spring. I've spent hours playing out every worst-case scenario. Awkward silences, old arguments resurfacing, or worse, the possibility that Heather's right and there is something between us we've been pretending doesn't exist.
The door to the production room opens, and Wyatt struts in as if he has no care in the world.
I take in the dark jeans, the gray t-shirt stretched across shoulders that have no business looking that good.
His hair's damp as if he just showered, and he carries himself with a confident swagger that's strangely sexy. My breath catches before I can stop it.
"Hey." There's a warmth in his voice I've only heard him use with Danny. "Ready to taste?"
"Always." I try to keep my voice steady.
We move to the brite tank, and I pour two ounces into our tasting glass.
The coffee aroma hits stronger than yesterday.
I take the first sip, evaluating. The fruity notes from Wyatt's blend are coming through beautifully, playing against the crisp blonde ale base.
But it's still not quite there. It needs another twelve hours to reach that perfect balance.
I hand the glass to Wyatt. His fingers brush mine as he takes it, his blue eyes smoldering as he holds my gaze and drinks from the exact spot I did. My stomach flips. He's absolutely flirting with me.
"It’s not ready yet," he says, his deep voice resonating low in my belly. "One more day?"