Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Tessa
"This is so boring," Maddy announced, staring at the fermentation tanks with undisguised disinterest. "No offence, Dad, but beer making is not as cool as you think it is."
Wyatt looked mildly offended. "It's a craft. There's science involved."
"There's also yeast," Maddy said. "Which is fungus. Fungus beer. Still boring."
I bit back a smile as Wyatt ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.
"Fine," he said. "There's a public tour starting in ten minutes in the taproom. Go join that one. Maybe their guide will be more entertaining."
"Anything would be more entertaining than listening to you explain hop varieties for twenty minutes," Maddy said, but she was grinning. She looked at me. "You staying with him?"
"Someone has to," I said.
"Good luck." Maddy headed toward the taproom, pulling out her phone. "Text me when you're done with the fungus lecture."
Wyatt waited until she disappeared around the corner before turning to me. "Fungus beer. My daughter just called my life's work fungus beer."
"She's not wrong," I said, trying to keep a straight face.
"You're not helping."
"I'm not trying to." I walked over to one of the tanks, running my hand along the cool steel. "So. Private tour now that you've lost your other audience member?"
Something shifted in his expression. "You actually want the tour?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"You're here because Maddy begged you to come keep her from dying of boredom while I worked today.”
That was true. Maddy begged me at breakfast, and since I was technically still a prisoner on the Hargrove ranch because Wyatt hadn’t been able to track down Colin, I couldn’t say no to big pleading eyes.
But I said yes for other reasons too. After the strip poker and sex in the barn two days ago, I wasn't ready to examine too closely why I couldn’t stay away from Wyatt.
"So now you're stuck with me. Might as well make it worth my time."
Wyatt's eyes darkened slightly. "Worth your time."
"Yeah. Impress me, Hargrove. Show me why you spend all your free time making fungus beer."
He moved closer, and the air between us suddenly felt charged. "You want the real tour or the public tour?"
"What's the difference?"
"The public tour stays in the main production areas. The real tour." He gestured toward a hallway I hadn't noticed before. "Goes places most people don't get to see."
My pulse quickened. "Show me."
He led me away from the main brewery floor, down a hallway lined with pipes and gauges. The sound of the public tour starting filtered faintly from the taproom, Maddy's voice audible for a second before fading.
"This is the quality control area," Wyatt said, opening a door. "Where we test batches, check consistency, make sure everything meets standards before it goes to the tanks."
The room was small and warm, filled with equipment I didn't recognize. Wyatt closed the door behind us, and suddenly we were alone in a way we hadn't been all day.
"Is this the impressive part?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"No." He moved closer. "This is."
He backed me against the stainless steel counter and kissed me.
I should've pushed him away. Should've reminded him that Maddy was just down the hall, that this was his place of business, that we were supposed to be keeping things simple.
Instead, I fisted my hands in his shirt and pulled him closer.
"We can't," I gasped when he moved to my neck. "Maddy.”
"Is on a tour that takes forty minutes," Wyatt said against my skin. "And we're on the opposite side of the building."
"Someone could come in.”
"No one's going to interrupt." His hands slid under my shirt. "I've been thinking about touching you since you walked out of the barn the other night, and didn’t look back. Do you have any idea how fucking hot that was?”
"You've been talking about hops for the last twenty minutes and wanting to get me naked?”
He lifted me onto the counter, stepping between my thighs. "Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on beer when all I can think about is getting you alone?"
My head fell back as his mouth found that spot below my ear. "This is a terrible idea."
"All our best ideas seem to be terrible." His hands were on the button of my jeans now. "Tell me to stop."
I didn't.
I should have. This was reckless even by our standards. But the risk of it, Maddy down the hall, the brewery full of people on tours, anyone could walk past the door, only made my pulse race faster.
"Wyatt," I breathed.
"Tell me what you want." His fingers traced the waistband of my jeans. "Say it."
"You know what I want."
"Say it anyway."
I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand lower. "Touch me. Now."
His eyes flashed dark and hungry. "Yes, ma'am."
He popped the button of my jeans and slid the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Then his hand was sliding under my underwear, and I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
"Jesus," he groaned. "You're already so wet."
"Your fault," I managed, my hips rocking into his touch.
He kissed me hard as his fingers found exactly the right spot, the right rhythm. I clutched at his shoulders, trying to stay quiet, trying not to think about the fact that his daughter was somewhere in this building.
"That's it," he murmured against my mouth. "Let me feel you."
His thumb circled my clit while two fingers slid inside me, and I had to bury my face in his neck to muffle the sound I made.
"You're so fucking perfect," he said roughly, his free hand sliding into my hair. "So responsive. So desperate for this."
"Shut up," I gasped, but my body was already trembling.
"Make me." He increased the pressure, the speed, and I was gasping his name into his shoulder.
The orgasm hit suddenly and hard, and I bit down on his shirt to keep from crying out. He worked me through it, his touch gentling as I shook apart, pressing kisses to my temple and murmuring things I couldn't quite hear over the rushing in my ears.
When I finally came down, gasping and boneless, he slowly withdrew his hand and helped me fix my clothes with surprising gentleness.
"Okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah." My voice came out hoarse. "More than okay."
He kissed me again, soft and sweet this time, and I tasted satisfaction in it.
"What about you?" I asked, my hand sliding toward his belt. I could feel how hard he was against my thigh.
He caught my wrist. "Later."
"But.”
"This was about you." He kissed my forehead. "And we're running out of time."
As if on cue, I heard voices in the hallway outside. The tour must be moving through.
"Shit," I muttered, scrambling off the counter.
Wyatt steadied me with a hand on my hip, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Easy."
"This is not funny. Your daughter—"
"Is still in the taproom listening to someone talk about barrel aging." He helped me smooth my hair. "We're fine."
"We're insane," I corrected.
"That too." He kissed me one more time, quick and playful. "But you're not bored anymore, are you?"
I glared at him, but I couldn't quite hide my smile. "You're insufferable."
"And you love it."
He wasn't wrong, and that scared me more than getting caught.
We slipped out of the quality control room and back into the main brewery floor, trying to look casual. A group of tourists was examining one of the fermentation tanks while their guide explained the brewing process in enthusiastic detail.
"There you are!" Maddy appeared at my elbow, making me jump. "I thought you guys got lost. The tour is actually pretty interesting. Did you know they use different types of yeast for different…” she trailed off, looking between Wyatt and me. "Why are you both so red?"
"It's warm in here," I said quickly. "From all the equipment."
Maddy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Uh huh."
"Did you answer all the questions in the barrel aging section?” Wyatt asked, his voice impressively casual.
"Yeah." Maddy was still looking at us like she knew something was off. "Are we almost done? I want to go riding before it gets too late."
"Yeah," I said, grateful for the excuse to leave. "Let's go."
As we walked toward the exit, I felt Wyatt's hand brush mine for just a second, a brief contact that sent electricity up my arm. “See you both later,” he said as Maddy hugged him.
This was getting dangerous. Not just the physical stuff, though that was risky enough. But the way I kept wanting more. The way I couldn't seem to stay away from him, even when I knew I should.
The way "later" felt like a promise I was already desperate to collect on.
Maddy chattered about the tour on the way to the parking lot, but I barely heard her. All I could think about was Wyatt's hands on me, his voice in my ear, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I was in so much trouble. And the worst part was, I didn't want it to stop.