13. Hitting the Hops
13
HITTING THE HOPS
MAISY
Chelsea and Rex’s farmhouse glowed with golden light, and inside it, I curled up on the couch with Sophie and Chelsea in their oversized living room. We shared a blanket, held mugs of spiked cider, and talked with the kind of brutal honesty that only sisters and best friends could get away with.
“Okay, but you have to tell us everything,” Sophie said, poking me with her elbow. “You and Brooks. Trail ride. Barn. Hay. Details. Go.”
Chelsea snorted into her mug. “Is this your science project now, Soph?”
“Nope. Just a girl who loves a good romance arc.”
I sank further into the couch and let out a breath, thinking about the kiss with Brooks in the barn.
It hadn’t been just heat and hay and the thrill of being alone with him, being in his arms. It had been more. Sweeter than it should have been. Deeper than I’d let myself admit in the moment.
His mouth on mine had felt like a promise I hadn’t dared to ask for.
And the worst part? I wanted more. So much more.
“It was... like we were back there, three years ago, kissing for the first time. My heart raced. If we hadn’t been interrupted, I’m not sure we could have stopped. But I should be focusing on my career, not getting muddled in a situation with Brooks Bellamy.”
“‘Muddled,’” Sophie repeated, grinning. “Interesting choice of words.”
I ignored her. “Every time we’ve tried before, something’s come between us. Timing, distance, London, my job, his work... now with my project at Orion. I can’t afford to lose my focus.”
Chelsea leaned forward. “Maisy, you’re not a college kid anymore. You’ve built a life in New York. You’re working at Orion. You’re doing all the things we used to sit on the counter at Flora’s Diner and dream about.”
Sophie nodded. “She’s right. You’re basically a hot scientist queen with an enviable brain and great cheekbones. The least the universe can give you is a happily ever after.”
I let out a laugh and shook my head. “And to think Chelsea told me not to get involved when I first met Brooks. Remember?”
Chelsea winced. “I didn’t want you to feel you had to choose between love and ambition.”
“But now?”
She shrugged. “Now you’ve got your feet under you. You’re here for good. You have a new career. And most of all, there’s something still burning between you and Brooks. Everyone in the same room as you two can see it. No matter what’s happened, those feelings between the two of you haven’t died out.Why not see where it goes?”
I stared into my mug. “Because when I’m around him, I lose all sensibility. I forget what I’m supposed to be focused on.”
Chelsea smiled softly. “When I opened my heart to Rex, I was terrified. But I’m so glad I did. And I want the best for you, too. Even if it scares you a little.”
Her words landed like a warm weight on my chest. A lump rose in my throat before I could stop it. My sister—the one who used to double-knot my shoelaces and threaten boys who looked at me wrong—was looking at me now with nothing but pride. It disarmed me.
Part of me still clung to the idea that I had to choose—career or love, ambition or desire. But what if I didn’t? What if the true risk wasn’t chasing one or the other... but believing I could have both?
I looked between them—Sophie with her bold eyes, Chelsea with her calm maturity—and my chest loosened.
“We said we could be professional and keep away any emotions for eight weeks. We blew it. Now what?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Now you roll with it. Take your time with him. See where it leads. And no matter what, we got you, any time you need us,” Chelsea promised.
“Okay. Maybe I am curious to see where it leads. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to resist him much longer, anyway.” I nodded.
“Yes,” Sophie said, already launching off the couch. “And you know what curious girls do?”
“Read scientific journals?” I offered.
“No. They go out for drinks. Now get changed. We’re hitting Holly Creek Hops Brewery. Archer told me they have a band tonight.”
“Oh, I wish I could go,” Chelsea whined. “But darn it. I have to stay back here and snuggle with my sweet little man, Max, and my gorgeous husband.”
“Bummer. You poor deprived thing,” I mocked her and threw a popcorn at her head. She caught it in her mouth, laughing.
Ten minutes later, we parked on the gravel lot outside Keaton Kingston’s brewery. The place buzzed with the Saturday night energy of a small town with nothing much else going on. Warm light spilled from the windows, and inside we could hear the low thrum of conversation and the early tuning of a band.
Ever since Vivian’s brother appeared on a wildly popular TV show “Brewed for Love,” the bar certainly had made a name for itself, drawing more visitors to the town.
Sophie hooked her arm in mine as we walked in. “Tell me again how Holly Creek has a dive bar with craft cocktails and beer, run by a hot internet reality TV sensation?”
“Holly Creek is full of surprises.”
“That Keaton is a one fine-looking man.”
“Really? You think so? And here I thought you were going for Archer.”
“Oh, he’s nice, too. But he’s not Keaton.”
As we stepped inside, I spotted the men immediately.
Brooks and Archer perched on two barstools near the end of the lacquered dark walnut bar top, laughing with Keaton, who was working behind the bar, sleeves rolled up and a bottle of bourbon at his elbow.
Brooks looked up—and locked eyes with me. Then those blue devils took a slow appraisal down my body and back up.
The grin that pulled at his mouth was devastating.
“Well,” Sophie murmured. “Looks like fate just invited us to the party. And I’d say your outfit gained the desired effect.”
We almost matched, wearing tight, low ride denims, cowboy boots, and tank tops tied at our wastes—mine white, hers black. Both of us showing off skin at our midsections.
The guys stood when we reached the bar, adjusting the seating arrangement to fit us in, Brooks to my left, Sophie, then Archer on the right.
“You made it,” Archer said. “What’ll you have, Sophie?”
Brooks’s voice was low and warm near my ear. “You look...” he sighed, “Very not-professional tonight.”
I teased and tucked my hair behind my ear. “That was exactly the look I was going for.”
“Mission accomplished.”
Sophie stuck her hand out to Keaton. “We met before at the Albany Hospital during the kidney transplant chaos for Paris.”
Keaton blinked. “Wait—Sophie, right?”
Sophie gave him a pleased grin, tilting her head slightly. “You remembered. I’m flattered. That was a chaotic time. I’m glad Paris is fine now.”
Keaton chuckled and wrapped the bar top with his knuckles. “Ladies, your drinks are on the house tonight. What’ll you have?”
We ordered dirty martinis.Waitstaff shuffled tables to the edges of the room, clearing space for a dance floor. The live band began their first set with a bluesy cover of a soulful classic.
At some point, we danced. We laughed. Sophie and Archer took turns giving each other grief about their drink orders, while Keaton chimed in from behind the bar with sarcastic commentary about Archer’s buttoned-up shirt. Archer fired back that Keaton’s plaid shirt looked like it came from the clearance rack of a lumberjack convention.
Sophie grinned and whispered to me, “They’re like a comical sitcom.”
Midway through the evening, Sophie grabbed my arm and said, “Bathroom trip.”
Inside the ladies’ room, while Sophie touched up her lipstick, I leaned against the sink and smirked. “So... are you planning on taking both Archer and Keaton home tonight or are you still deciding which one to get your hooks into?”
Sophie gave me a wicked grin. “Archer is dangerously charming. But Keaton is hot,” she paused, eyes flashing. “And a hot mess when it comes to business. You know that’s my kryptonite. His marketing campaigns? I’ve been obsessively cringing over them since I met him at the hospital back when Paris was waiting for her kidney transplant. I seriously had to stop myself from asking if he wanted help with his bottle label design. But the truth is? I admire him more. Archer was born into money and kept right on making more with Bellamy Design. But Keaton? He started with nothing. He built Holly Creek Hops from scratch, started bottling, building his brand. And now he’s aiming for national distribution—thanks to Richard’s investment and guidance. The man knows beer. He just doesn’t know branding.”
I lifted a brow. “So why don’t you reach out to Richard and pitch him? See if you can land the account?”
Sophie stared at her reflection a moment longer, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “You know, I never let myself think I’m ready for a client like that. But maybe it’s time I stopped holding back.”
“Absolutely, girl-boss. Go for it.” I fluffed my hair and tied my t-shirt tighter.
She winked at me. “You’re right. I’m going to do it. I’m going to pitch him.”
We returned to the table in time for the band to hit a new groove. The ambient warmth, the hum of conversations, and the faint notes of music curling through the air—it all reminded me of the environments I’d been studying for months. Low light, warm color tones, rhythmic sounds, and laughter. The kind of unmeasured variables that nonetheless impacted the body’s chemistry.
Maybe I should test this room at the Hops for how it reduced stress—all I knew was, in Brooks’ arms, I felt more grounded than I had in months. Not exactly a controlled lab environment, but the results were... compelling. Maybe I should test this room at the Hops for how it reduces stress—all I know is, in Brooks’ arms, I felt more grounded than I had in months. Not exactly a controlled lab environment, but the results were... compelling.
With Brooks’ hand on my waist, spinning me across the tiny dance floor, I remembered what it felt like to just be.
When the band struck up a slow song, Brooks leaned in, voice grazing my ear.
“Dance with me?”
“I thought I already was.”
He grinned. “Let me rephrase. Dance with me like you want to.”
He pulled me close, one hand settling on the small of my back, the other catching my fingers and guiding them to his chest. His eyes searched mine.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that barn,” he whispered softly.
“I haven’t either.”
His fingers flexed slightly. “I’m staying in Richard’s guest house. Come back with me tonight.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.” Who the hell was I right now?
He smiled—slow and satisfied. “You sure?”
“I’m done pretending I’m not.”
The words tasted like truth and adrenaline on my tongue. Saying it aloud shattered something quiet and timid in me. For months, maybe years, I’d kept that piece of me tucked away—safe from disappointment, from heartbreak. But looking into his eyes now, I wasn’t only ready to take a risk. I needed to.
“I want you Brooks. And I don’t mean just tonight. I mean... I want to see where this goes between us. But I’m a little scared of it where this can lead.”
“I’m more afraid of what we’d miss if we didn’t.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against my temple. “Let’s get out of here.”
We slipped out into the cool spring air together, the music fading behind us.