Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
KIRA
THIS ISN’T A GAME
I went outside out of the noise and answered. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Key. I’ve got the graphic designer friend of Zoe’s up my ass. Any movement on names for the cider?”
I tipped my head back, staring up at the rapidly darkening sky. The evening had disappeared into work as usual. “I was just bugging him about it tonight. I’ll push again.”
“Thanks. My sister’s just as scary as my mother. I’d rather not have her yell at me again. She sure is belligerent lately.”
“Planning a wedding will do that.”
He just grunted. “Well, light a fire under his ass. The designer has printing capabilities in house, but we still need time to slap the stupid labels on the bottles and fill some.”
“Understood.”
Most of the cider would be kegged because of the small batch processing, but the bottles would be used for marketing and hopefully distribution in the future.
At the very least, we needed something to go with the distinctive barn owl of the Brothers Three logo.
“How’s it going up there?”
“We’re getting there. Once Ronan gives us the final flavors, Kain will make up our opening menu. They’ve been heads down for days, so I think they’re getting close.”
At least I hoped so. I was also avoiding him because I…well, because I was doing exactly what I had feared would happen. Only it was me, instead of Ronan, with the problem. If there was a wall or table to thunk my head on, I’d be doing that now. Crap.
“Good. I was thinking maybe a soft launch for Hayes’ birthday would be a good idea to test everything out. You know, before our resident rockstar drives everyone insane.”
My belly twisted. Not that I wasn’t expecting all the family to show up for opening night, but an actual family party? One more thing to figure out and plan.
“It’s a good idea. See where the kinks are before the actual opening night.”
“Gotta say, I didn’t even think about kinks.” I heard the slam of a door through the phone. “Laverne ambushed me. I know you have stuff under control, but she’s got a point.”
I’d been planning for every problem since Beckett had come to me about running the taproom. The reality of how close the opening was suddenly crashed in on me. I sat down on the new swing and stared out on the shadowy orchard. “She has a way of doing that.”
“Twenty-fifth for my middle brother. Somehow we managed to keep him alive for a quarter of a century.”
I leaned back in the swing and set it to rocking. The chains on either side barely made a sound. As much as Kain and Ronan drove me crazy, they did amazing work. “Does he know we’re doing a party? You know he hates being the center of attention.”
“What makes it fun.”
“You’re evil.”
“Also the fun part. I had that graphic designer make up a label for his moonshine too. You know, a surprise present.”
My eyes stung. The moonshine had been a passion project for Hayes for as long as he’d been legally able to drink. And before, but he’d done that part in secret. But the bottles always had the simplest label on them. As minimalist as the man who made the dangerous brew.
“He’ll go crazy.”
“Crazier still when I show him the gear I ordered for him to start up operations next year. It will take a long time to get through the red tape for it, but our distributor is interested. So, we’ll let them figure it out.”
“You’re a good man, Beckett Manning.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just tired of looking at his puppy dog eyes.”
I laughed. “The Brothers Three Taproom will be ready for it.”
“I know it.” I heard the rumble of Beckett’s truck. “I’m heading home to soak my head. You best do the same. It’s late.”
I laughed. “I’m ready. I’ll work out the details with Laverne and figure out a menu.”
“Thanks, Key.”
“You got it. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I tucked my phone into my pocket and stood. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Ronan in the shadows. He stalked to his workshop and the lights flicked on inside.
“Great,” I muttered and went back into the taproom.
I heard music and banging in the kitchen and found Kain with his head in the pantry with his iPad open on the table. He’d put on a shirt—sort of. It was missing its sleeves and half the sides of the shirt, leaving his arms on display as usual.
Today’s music of choice piped in the kitchen matched the concert promoted on the shirt. Santana’s epic guitars soared in the wide space. The sultry “Black Magic Woman” was sad and sexy at the same time.
“You finally ready to order for the opening?”
He hit his head on one of the shelves above him. “Dammit. Don’t sneak up on a man like that.”
I grinned as I leaned an elbow on the tall table. “You’d make my life infinitely easier if I had a menu.”
“Talk to Boa. But at least he told me a few of the flavors he’s using. He’s a precious little bitch about these ciders.”
“We both have a lot of pressure on us.”
He tucked the Apple pencil behind his ear. “Yeah, I get it. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you or the Mannings.”
“Well, until you guys can agree, I’ve got another project for you. Beckett just asked if we could do a dry run of sorts. Hayes’s birthday party. Kind of a trial run.”
Kain nodded. He rubbed his massive hands together, his silver rings clicking. “Good thinking. Do I get to do what I want?”
“Within reason. You’ll have to talk to Laverne. She’s the one who came up with the idea.”
His tanned face split into a smile. “I love that little snowy bird. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Good. Thank you. That, of course, will be a different budget. So we’ll see how much the family wants to chip in for.”
“Always with the numbers.” Kain shook his head.
“If I let you and Lennon run free with the checkbook we’d be in the red for the first month.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Then we’d be in the black because people won’t be able to resist this place.”
“I’m more than willing to be proven wrong. With a budget to start.”
“Bah.”
I grinned. “It’s good for you. Creates character. Now go the hell home. We’ve all been here for fourteen hours.”
“Just needed to put an order in with my friend in Honolulu. Different spices back home.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m heading out. I’ve got a date with Ruby tonight.”
“Dear God, don’t burn down the town.” My old boss over at Lucky’s was just as wild as Kain.
“No promises.”
“Okay, I’m going to lock up.”
I wandered back out to the dining room. The paintings made the space—a final piece that I hadn’t even realized was missing. I made a note to order a few lights to showcase the art.
I wove my way through the chairs and tables and back to the bar. Lennon was in Los Angeles for an event. She would be back Monday and we’d hammer out the last of the details for the drinks menu. The taproom would showcase apples for the opening–from martinis to daiquiris and everything in between.
The cider would continue to be the star, of course. Once our resident mad scientist gave us something to work with, we’d be able to wrap up the final details.
I shut off the lights in the case, and locked down the alcohol.
There were no concerts this weekend, but there was no need to advertise the high end booze stockpiled at the moment.
The lockup process soothed me with its reliability.
Everything had its place, and the quiet, the order of it, let my spinning brain even out.
The music shut off and Kain checked on me before disappearing out the door with a wave.
He didn’t like to leave me alone to close up, which I appreciated. We were very remote and I always felt safe, but that would probably change after we opened. We’d have safety protocols in place for closing time. Another thing to add to my ever present to-do list.
The rev of his motorcycle engine followed by the spit of gravel traveled all the way out to the back as I pulled the large accordion doors closed. I noticed the light was still on in Ronan’s workshop.
The urge to leave him to it was strong.
However, it was my job to check on the status of the cider. I wanted to let him have the space he needed, but time wasn’t exactly on our side. August was here and the days would only fly faster now.
I flipped the locks and sighed before slipping outside to cross the walkway into Ronan’s domain. The pathway was dark, save for a few solar lights for safety and a surprising amount of fireflies flashing thanks to the humid evening.
As usual, music floated out into the darkness. Tonight it was angry rock with bass heavy guitars and pulsing drums. I shook out my fingers and cracked my neck before stepping into the shaft of light from his workshop.
He was at his bench, back to me. Beakers and jars of various sweeteners were spread all over. A gallon jug of what I assumed was his hard cider base sat to his right. The plastic was sweating and two tasting glasses were empty at the end of the bench.
His fingers gripped the edge of the scarred wooden surface before he flipped the beaker in one of the stands across the room. “Fuck.”
Okay. Maybe not the best time to pay him a visit.
Just as I was about to step back into the darkness, he turned so his profile was in view. “What?”
His tone was the exact opposite of the even keeled Ronan who I’d been treated to lately. Anger and frustration hummed in the air, matching the beat. The singer’s voice was a growl of intensity that somehow created a melody in the pulsing rage.
“I was going to ask how it’s going, but I’m afraid to now.”
He turned to face me fully, all feline grace in the lines of muscles and wildness of his hair.
No braids and jangling beads today. Instead his untamed curls haloed around his head in a dozen colors of caramel, blond, and cinnamon.
His beard was overgrown, adding to the lion effect.
He crossed his arms over his chest. A splattered T-shirt with a Chicago brewery logo on it pulled tight across his biceps and shoulders.