4. The Beer Tap - Cameron
Chapter four
The Beer Tap - Cameron
Pints ‘n Pool was the place in Foggy Basin to sit around and hang out with friends, enjoy a beer, or play pool.
It might also have been one of the only places, but I knew most of the people here, so if I wanted to hang out, this was it.
The owner, Nate, was a cool dude who made sure his place had a laid-back atmosphere.
He even had an old antique jukebox rather than the new digital kind.
I sort of loved that about the place. It was fixed up nicely but still had a classic appeal.
I lifted my mug up to order another beer, and Kit, the bartender and Nate’s partner, took it. He stuck it under the tap, and the thing fizzed and sputtered. “Shit. Dude. Want something else?”
“No, is it empty? I can help you connect a new keg.”
“Nah, dude. I think it’s the tap. Nate’s actually in the back calling the brewery now.”
I certainly didn’t want anything else since the local craft brewery made the best beer.
They’d set up shop about four months ago and were already making a good name for themselves.
I slid behind the counter to see if I could fix it.
I wiggled the pull, then examined the connections.
“Seems to be loose or something. Got a wrench?”
“Let me see. Hang on.” He went in the back, and I fiddled with it some more.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get away from that.” A sexy blond man slapped at my shoulder and pushed me back. I’d seen him around, but he was new to the area, so he was one of the few people I didn’t actually know.
“Hey. Trying to fix this. No big deal.”
“It is a big deal. This is my tap and you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Your tap?”
“Yes. I’m Everett Lundy. I own Foggy Basin Brewery.
” Everett had a scowl that put a canyon between his thin eyebrows, but his face still remained quite attractive.
“You do not touch this. Ever.” He pointed at me—actual finger in my face.
“Who the hell gave you permission to even be back here behind the bar. Who the hell are you?”
“Relax.” I held up my hands in supplication, but he wasn’t having it.
“Don’t tell me to relax—” Had his face turned a deeper shade of red?
“Everett. Hey. This is Cameron Telliyard. He’s just trying to help.” Kit tried to calm him, but the guy was livid.
“Does. He. Work. For. You? Is he an employee of Pints ‘n Pool?”
“Well, no but…”
“No. The only people who touch this tap are you…” He pointed at Kit. “And me.” He jabbed his chest with his thumb. Even though he was furious, he was sexy as hell. He smashed his lips together, making me want to pry them apart with my tongue. “Understand?”
Oh, I wanted to understand, alright, wanted to learn more about him. “Sorry. Just trying to help.”
“Well, don’t. I got this.” He shoved me again, so I returned to the customer side of the bar, fully chastised but wanting more at the same time. Maybe I could keep pestering him, so he’d yell at me more. The fire in his gray eyes was like a spark of life.
“I see that. What are you doing?” Maybe a little goad to see how he’d react.
As expected, he glared at me. “Fixing the tap. Fricking washers.” He muttered as he started reassembling the faucet.
His hair fell to his ears at the sides of his head, a little longer in the back, and he had a prominent Adam’s apple.
He was getting a little end-of-the-day stubble scruffing his cheeks and chin. All of it made him more appealing.
I tried to think of something else to pester him with, but he finished too soon. Then he poured me a beer and slid it across the bar top.
“Thanks.” I took a sip, and he looked at me expectantly. “It’s fucking good, dude.”
He gave me a curt nod, then turned to leave.
What the hell had just happened?
“Hey. Wait. Can I get your number?”
Everett glanced back at me over his shoulder. Man! Did I ever want to poke him more. Smokey-sexy-smoldering eyes. Then he shook his head and left, leaving me bereft. How could I at least make friends with him?
My reaction might have been from my overwhelming need to be friends with everyone.
My family had been in this area for multiple generations, and I practically knew everyone around.
But I did not know Everett, and from just our one interaction, I sure as hell wanted to.
Call it lust at first sight. Call it ego.
I didn’t give a fuck. As long as I could call him.
But no… He was so uptight I could practically see the stick up his ass as he walked away from me.
His shoulders were tense, and his stride was a bit like Darth Vader's.
I swore to initiate Operation Get Everett to Relax into gear fast. He needed a good long soak in a hot bath, preferably with me.
Or a rub down, with my hands doing the rubbing.
Whatever it took, I was in. I didn't know why he was so unreasonably angry, but I wanted to change that. Challenge accepted.
My brain went into planning mode. Who did know him? Nate? I looked around to see if I could corner the bar owner and finagle the digits from him. Where the hell was he?