Chapter 6
KENNEDY
Last night complicated everything. It was too late to go back and change it. We were stuck with the situation we were in. I just wanted to make the best of it, move on and act like a professional, but I wasn't sure if Boone was capable of that.
"Fine. It's a little weird. But don't worry. I'll get over it."
I wasn't a fan of him forgetting about last night either. But I wasn't sure if there was any other way to handle it. We had to work together, and I couldn't constantly be thinking about how good he was with his tongue. "I hope so, because I have a job to do."
"Your job is to put me out of mine. We both know you're going to recommend some store-bought decor and furniture. Craftsman is not your style."
I arched a brow. "You don't know anything about me, much less what I'd recommend."
He snorted. "I think we both know what's going to happen. Why would you come here just to say that my parents should use my work?"
"Pizzas are in the oven, and I have a few brews ready for tasting," Beck called from the other room.
"Come on." Boone moved away from me.
I wasn't ready to be done with this conversation. We had too many unresolved issues to discuss. But for now, I could put them aside.
We needed to put last night behind us. I was fairly sure I could push it into the furthest recesses of my mind. Only to be brought out at night when I was alone in bed.
It was too bad that nothing could happen, no matter how much I enjoyed our evening together and wanted a repeat.
I could do this. I could work with a man I slept with and still wanted. I just needed to stay focused on my job. I needed this one to go well so that I could add it to my portfolio. I needed more variety to prove that I was good at what I did.
Jodi was the one who pointed out that I worked with the same kind of hotel each time. It was time to broaden my reach.
I followed Boone into the tasting room where Beck had already poured flights for the table. There were three rows of glasses lined up.
Boone pulled out my chair, and I sat.
"I don't know much about beer," I said.
Boone grimaced. "You want me to find a bottle of wine for you? Clara keeps a few bottles in the back room for when she hangs out with her friends."
"I want to get the full experience."
"I'm going to check on the pizza," Beck said, disappearing into the kitchen area.
Boone pointed at the lightest-colored brew. "You should try this one first. It's light with a clean test and a mild herbal hop finish."
"I don't know what any of that means, but I trust you." Something flashed in his eyes at that statement, and I realized it was true. If I didn't trust him, I wouldn't have invited him into my room or my body last night. I must have sensed he was a good person on some level.
I lifted the glass, and he said, "You want to sniff it first and then take a small sip, letting the flavor wash over your tongue. You'll want to wait for the finish."
I raised a brow. "I didn't realize it was such a technical process."
"It's not for most. But I thought you wanted to know what we do here." He lifted his own glass, swirling the liquid thoughtfully as he brought it to his nose. He sipped it, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor on his tongue. Then he swallowed, and I was mesmerized by the way his throat worked.
He was so big and masculine, and I found it endearing that he worked in his shop without electronics. He said he didn't like dealing with people, but he was good with his customers, congenial and professional. I was impressed. Not that I'd ever tell him that.
The problem was that he saw me as a threat to his position in the business. He wanted me to say that the Harts should use his furniture, and I didn't have an opinion on that yet. I hadn't seen much of anything on the property besides the hot tub and my bed.
I mimicked his movements, lifting the glass to smell the brew.
It was a different experience from what I was used to.
I usually went from one thing to another, not taking my time to enjoy anything.
Maybe there was something to small-town country living.
I could relax for once and not worry so much.
I sipped the beer, doing my best to let it wash over my tongue before finally swallowing it.
He held up his hand. "Wait for the finish."
"What's that exactly?" I asked confused.
"You probably refer to it as the aftertaste. It's the flavor that lingers. This one is subtle." He was fully engaged in the conversation, his gaze intent on me. "Rowan is the one who creates the recipes for the brews, but he taught us how to appreciate them."
"It lingers, but it's nice," I finally said, and Boone smiled. He was pleased with me, and a satisfied flush went through my body. It was nice to share this with him.
Beck returned with a large cheese pizza on a tray. He set it in the middle of the table, and plated a few slices, handing them to us.
My stomach growled. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."
"You didn't eat much at breakfast," Boone murmured.
I was too upset about the situation to focus on eating. But now, I felt more settled. We could do this. I took a large bite, enjoying the cheese and marinara flavor.
"I love pizza and beer. They go together," Beck said.
"Is that why you chose to serve pizza?" I asked, wanting to know more about his thought process.
"We were originally going to do snacks, maybe popcorn or pretzels. Then we realized families like to come to breweries with their children, so we made it more family friendly,” Boone said.
"In the summer, we'll be able to sit outside and provide yard games," Beck added.
"We have fire pits in the winter. But I don't think a lot of people will be playing games away from the fire," Boone said between bites.
I ate the first slice and then tried the second brew, which was a deep copper color.
Beck pointed at the next glass. "This one is an American IPA. You'll taste citrus, pine, and floral hops."
"That's a lot going on," I said as I sniffed it, then took my first tentative sip. I closed my eyes like Boone did and tried to find each flavor he'd mentioned. I swallowed, the finish stronger with this one. "It's good."
"We'll make you into a beer girl yet," Beck said.
"It's nice to try new things." I usually toured a hotel and got a feel for the clientele, but I never researched things this deeply.
Why did it matter what the brews tasted like at their family's brewery?
This had more to do with the connection I forged with Boone last night.
I wanted to know more about him. What he enjoyed and how he spent his days.
We devoured the rest of the pizza and then lingered over the brews. Boone cared what I thought of them, and that was interesting. I would have thought that he wouldn't because of who I was, but his passion for his family's businesses outweighed everything.
By the time we were done, it was late afternoon, and I was feeling tired from the alcohol. "I think I'll take a nap."
Boone pushed back his chair and stood. "I'll drive you back."
"Thank you for showing me around and letting me taste your brews and pizza," I said to Beck.
"You're welcome here anytime," Beck said with a smile.
On the way back, Boone said, "Let me know when you want to see something else. I can take you around."
"I thought you didn't want to."
He parked in the inn's lot. "I promised my parents I would."
That told me two things. He was a man of his word, and he was respectful of his parents' wishes. "Well, thank you. I had a nice time at the brewery. And I'd love to go back and see it when it's open."
"Kennedy?" Boone asked, and I turned to face him.
"Yes?"
"I'd walk you up to your room, but it's probably not a good idea."
My skin heated just thinking about being alone with him again. "It's better if you don't."
"I should get your number though."
I unlocked my phone and handed it to him.
"I'll text myself so I have it." He entered his information. "If I don't see you later, have a good night."
"You too." I wasn't sure if I was up for spending more time with him.
I needed space to process everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
I'd slept with a Hart when I should be working with him.
I couldn't believe I was in this position, but I had to make the best of it. There was no backing out now.
I closed the door and headed up the stairs into the lobby. There was a couple at the counter checking in, so I continued walking.
I was looking forward to recharging in my room and getting a little space from Boone. But when I opened the door, I was assaulted with memories of last night. How I'd gotten naked and stepped into the tub. How we hadn't wasted any time touching each other. How he'd insisted on tasting me.
Then we'd eaten burgers and watched a movie before falling into each other's arms again.
It was the perfect night. If he hadn't been related to the owners, I'd definitely want to pick up where we left off. But that wasn't possible.
Somehow we had to find a way to work together without taking off each other's clothes. It was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever have to do. But it was only for a few weeks. Surely I could manage to be professional. I just needed to stay away from Boone as much as possible.
It was probably best to go on my own tour. I didn't need Boone to show me around. Even if I could admit that it was nice that he shared the brews with me.
He was worried that I'd ruin his hopes of seeing his furniture in the inn. I didn't want to be the one to crush his dreams. But at the same time, I had a job to do, and I needed to be impartial.
I couldn't recommend that the Harts use his furniture if it wasn't the right decision.
And right now, I didn't have an opinion.
I hadn't seen enough to really get a feel for the place and the guests.
The owners were obviously wanting to update everything, but other than that, I didn't have a direction to go in.
The inn itself was older and the interior rustic. It wouldn't be crazy to make custom furniture. But it would be expensive and time intensive. Even if the craftsman was their son. The cost of wood and labor wasn't cheap. I didn’t want Boone to undercut the value of his time and work either.
We’d connected last night, and it was impossible to ignore the ramifications of any decision I made.
If I wanted to do my job, I couldn't be influenced by him.
It was my first real night at the inn where I wasn't being distracted by Boone. I could grab a drink at the bar or eat dinner at the restaurant.
Someone knocked on my door, and I checked to see who it was. There was a woman standing there with straight blond hair and a red wool jacket. I opened the door.
She lifted a pair of hiking boots. "Boone said you needed these, and since I run a shop in town, I picked them up."
I accepted the boots from her. "He thought I needed hiking boots?"
"That's what he said. And sorry, I'm Clara Hart. I think you met my fiancé, Beck, earlier at the brewery."
Realization dawned on me. "You're Boone's sister."
"I'm the youngest Hart. It's so nice to meet you." She held her hand out to shake.
"Nice to meet you as well."
I stepped back so that she could come in since she didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. She moved around the room, finally having a seat in one of the cushioned chairs.
I sat on the bed, setting the boots on the floor. "I had breakfast with your parents this morning. Then Boone showed me his workshop and the brewery. It was nice."
Her eyes widened. "Boone showed you his workshop?"
I nodded. "He had to meet with a client for a pickup."
"He doesn't usually like to bring people there. He only allows family and customers when they are there to pick up their orders."
That was interesting. "He said he was late for the pickup because of our breakfast. I think it was more of a convenience thing. Your parents wanted him to give me a tour of the grounds."
"You have plans for tonight?"
"I was just trying to think about what I should do." I didn't want to be alone tonight, even though I was used to eating by myself on these trips. In fact, I preferred it so that I could focus on what I needed to for my evaluation.
"I'll eat with you at the restaurant if you'd like. Then I can take you over to the brewery."
"That would be nice." It would be good to get to know the sole Hart sister. She was warm and welcoming.
"Perfect. I'll let you get ready and meet you downstairs in an hour." She stood and made her way to the door.
"Thanks for the boots."
She waved her hand. "That was all Boone. He insisted that you needed them if you were going to be here for a few weeks."
"See you in a bit," I said as I closed the door. I couldn't believe that Boone had asked her to purchase boots for me. That was actually really sweet. I put on socks and then tried them on. They were a perfect fit.
This was something I could have expected from the Boone I met last night, not the one that was at my breakfast table this morning. Were they the same person, or was I relegated to the grumpy one now that he knew who I was?