Page 5 of Tap


  “Twenty-nine.” I thought as much.

  “I need to hear about you if I’m to consider you someone I know.” He glances at his watch. “But I’m afraid I need to return to the booth. I have a meeting in five minutes.”

  He looks up at me. Is that remorse I see in his expression?

  Damn. I wish I could see his eyes behind those dark shades.

  He smiles, a small half smile that does wobbly things to my insides. He leans forward and licks his lips. “I’m certain that isn’t long enough to learn everything I’d like to know about you.”

  I admit I struggle to take a breath after that. He must know how sexy he is and has probably used that line before. Lucas Broussard is a flirt. A huge, obviously practiced one.

  “I’m as simple as they come.” I hold out my arms, palms side up. “What you see is what you get with me. I could probably tell you everything in under a minute.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  I look over at the booth behind his back. “I think they’re looking for you.”

  He twists in his chair for a glance. “That’s my next appointment.” He turns back to me. “So what’s it gonna be, Lawrence? Are you staying or going?”

  I could go back to Ollie’s, gather my things, and be home before bedtime. But I don’t think that’s what I want to do. “I’ll think about it while you have your meeting.”

  “Good.” He gets up to leave. “One more thing. Since you asked me, it only seems fair . . . how old are you?”

  “Thirty-one.” And three-quarters.

  “Hmm . . . okay.” What does that mean?

  He’s only a few steps away when he turns and calls out to me. “I hope you decide to stay.”

  Staying is a definite temptation. Let’s see. Get back in the car and drive six hours to Savannah. Stay right where I am and thoroughly enjoy some Cajun man-candy. Hmm. Should I?

  Yes, I think I should.

  Lucas Broussard

  Lawrence Thorn’s presence and the vibration of Stout’s phone in my back pocket simultaneously distract me. I can barely concentrate on what my customer is saying because I’m sure it’s her blowing up his phone.

  It was a mistake to encourage Lawrence to stay. Her company is only going to further muddle the already murky waters of what I’m doing for Stout. This is wrong. He shouldn’t have asked me to do this to his sister. And I shouldn’t have agreed.

  I went along with Stout’s plan when Lawrence Thorn was some faceless person I didn’t know and would likely never meet. But now I have met her.

  And I like her.

  I’m interested.

  I want to know her better.

  I gesture for my dispensation guy to come over. “This is Matt. He’s in charge of distribution, so I’m going to pass you off to him. He’ll take care of your every need.” I lift a brow and give Matt a quick nod, my cue for him to charm the pants off our new client.

  I look at the time and find I’m free for a little while. Good. I plan to spend that time getting to know Lawrence, but first I must tend to her latest call, voicemail, and string of texts.

  Hey loser. Surprise! I’m in Birmingham. I’m at your house so don’t come home and mistake me for an intruder. I’d hate for you to shoot me, bro.

  Shit. This text is from last night. I was so busy I completely missed it.

  Where are you?

  * * *

  I just met Lucas. He says you left town to see a friend in Memphis.

  * * *

  What friend? What’s going on? I’m worried.

  I have to be careful with the way I handle this or the shit is going to get deep fast. I need to be clear enough to answer her adequately but vague enough to avoid a problem.

  I’m in Memphis with a friend from college. One you’ve never met. He’s having a hard time. I came to check on him b/c I was afraid he might do something stupid. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I can’t believe you came to town to surprise me. Wish I were there.

  I hope that sounds like something Stout would say. And hopefully it’s the right words to put an end to her worries.

  I’m bummed I missed you but thinking about staying for the festival. Looks like fun.

  I type out a message but hesitate before sending it. Fuck, it would be so wrong of me to answer Lawrence as her brother and tell her to stay because it’s what I want.

  Wrong or not, I press send.

  You should stay and have fun. Porter and Lucas will make sure you have a good time.

  I include Porter’s name in the message so it’ll seem more authentic. I’m sure Stout would be dependent on him to take care of his sister in his absence.

  I haven’t talked to Porter yet but Lucas seems very nice.

  Nice. I’ll take it.

  How would Stout respond? I’d like to think he’d tell Lawrence I am a nice guy but it feels wrong to build myself up to her.

  Let me know if they don’t treat you right. I’ll kick their asses.

  That seems like a legit brotherly response.

  Will do. Call when you can. Miss you. Love you.

  Good. She’s ending this run of texting.

  I will. Love you too. Have a great time.

  It feels so strange every time I type “love you.”

  I can leave things in Molly’s hands for a bit. “Hey, Molly. I’m going to step away from the booth for a little while. I’ll be at a table under the trees if you need me or you can shoot me a text.”

  “Sure. I’ll let you know if you’re needed.”

  “Thanks.”

  I’m walking toward Lawrence when I see Porter has joined her. It would be a fucking disaster if he’s blown my story about Stout’s whereabouts. He really should have checked with me before talking to her so we could get our stories straight.

  I place a hand on Porter’s shoulder and squeeze when I reach the table. “Hey, man. You’re supposed to be working. Not hanging out with a pretty girl in the shade.”

  “No ordinary pretty girl here.” I’d agree with that.

  I don’t know what Porter has said but I need to cue him to the explanation I’ve already given Lawrence. Damn. We should have fabricated this lie together so we’d both be straight. “Damn shame Stout left yesterday to go to Memphis to check on his friend going through the divorce.”

  “The whole thing is so weird, Porter. I’ve never heard him mention a word about a friend from Memphis. Do you know who he went to see?” I can’t mistake the concern in Lawrence’s tone.

  Porter comes to full attention, looking at me and then back at Lawrence. “It’s Raleigh, one of our frat brothers from AU. The poor guy is not coping well. Stout was . . . worried so he drove up to check on him.” Good job, Porter.

  “I guess he understands what his friend is going through because of what happened with Eden. Damn, that woman did a number on my brother.” Lawrence doesn’t know the half of it. The effects of that betrayal sent Stout into a three-month party spiral, which I blame for the DUI. He would never have done anything like that prior to his breakup with Eden.

  Porter chuckles. “Want to hear something funny? Eden’s cousin drives one of our delivery trucks. I saw him earlier this week and he told me the man she was cheating with has already left her for someone else.”

  Lawrence nods. “Everything in life is a matter of cause and effect. She suffers today for yesterday’s wrongdoings. I bet she’s seeing now how good she had it with my brother. He treated her well so I’m worried she’ll try to weasel her way back into his life.”

  Stout’s not stupid. He recognizes the damage left in her aftermath. “Won’t happen. Eden’s been a lesson well learned for him.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Porter asks. No. She’s single and loving it. Doing what she wants, whenever she likes. Same as me.

  “Nope. Free as a bird.” I heard Lawrence tell Stout she’s single and loving it but her expression says something else.

  “It would be hard for me to picture you any other way.” Port
er hits the home button on his phone. “It’s almost three. I’ve gotta run but we have to get together later. It’s been too long since we’ve caught up.”

  I’ll be the odd man out if I don’t speak up. “We should do dinner.”

  Porter frowns. “Can’t tonight. Already made plans with Perry from Yankee Brewery.” That does not break my heart.

  “That’s too bad. I hope we can find some time to catch up before I go home.”

  “When are you going back?” As long as she doesn’t text Stout while I’m with her, it should be sweet.

  Lawrence looks at me before answering. “I’ve made arrangements to stay through Monday morning.”

  “We’ll definitely get together tomorrow.” I’m surprised Porter didn’t jump at the chance to spend time with Lawrence. I had the impression he might have a thing for her. Maybe not.

  Lawrence’s smile curls but the corners are pinched. “What is it?”

  “These festivals are all about getting together and having a good time, so how is it possible you don’t have dinner plans?”

  “Who says I don’t?” Of course I have plans but those can always change.

  I can’t see her eyes but I strongly suspect they’re narrowed behind those sunglasses. “Don’t tell me you’re canceling on someone to keep me company.”

  “Okay. I won’t tell you.”

  She inhales deeply and loudly exhales. “Lucas, that makes me feel terrible. I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s a group thing with some other breweries. No big deal. I see them all the time so they won’t miss me. Promise.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Thank you. You’re very sweet.” Wrong. I’m the furthest thing from sweet.

  “It’s my pleasure. Would you care for another beer?”

  She shakes her head. “Not right now. Maybe later.”

  I don’t want to leave her alone again but I have a job to do. “I need to walk around and show my face since Lovibond is hosting this event.”

  She waves her hand in my direction. “Of course you do.”

  “It’s going to be hot and miserable, and probably boring as hell, but do you want to go with me to make the rounds?”

  Beads of sweat rest on her forehead and upper lip. Her sunglasses have slid down her nose, so close to revealing the eyes behind them. I’m dying to see her eyes. I wonder what color they are. “You don’t need me in tow slowing you down. I’ll be fine right here. Go be a host to your people.”

  I have sixteen booths to visit. People are going to expect me to hang around and talk. “I could be gone a while.”

  “If you are, then you’re doing your job well.”

  “I hate the thought of you sitting here alone.”

  “I’ll grab another beer and people watch. I figure there’ll be some good entertainment to come along any minute. After all, this is a beer festival with sampling. Someone is bound to act like a fool soon.” She’s so easygoing. And comical.

  “Okay. Do your people-watching thing and I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

  She props her feet on the adjacent chair. “No hurry. Take your time. It’s all cool here.”

  * * *

  I’m tied up much longer than planned. Almost two hours. Lawrence has to be tired of sitting around waiting for me.

  Shit. She’s gone. I hope she didn’t change her mind and take off on me.

  I scan the crowd in search of a blonde topknot. I see plenty but none belong to her. My eyes seek her red sliced-and-diced Lovibond T-shirt. I think she’s dumped me.

  “That’s some serious searching you’re doing there. Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find them.” Lawrence is standing next to me, pretending to look through imaginary binoculars over the swarm of people.

  “I appreciate the offer but I think I may have found her.”

  “Good.” She pretends to toss something over her shoulder. “These binoculars are shit.”

  “I was planning to take you to an early dinner after I finished rounds, but I ran into someone who’s insisting I meet her and share an order of fried Oreos at one of the food trucks.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s possible to pass on her if there are going to be fried Oreos involved.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tilts her head. “We can meet up later. Or I can take a rain check if you’d like to have dinner with her instead.”

  “I’d like to have dinner with her, but I’d also love for you to join us.”

  She parts her mouth as though she’s going to say something but then stops.

  “You can at least enjoy some fried Oreos with us.”

  “I appreciate you offering to entertain me since Ollie isn’t here but it’s okay. I don’t want to horn in on your date.” This woman seriously thinks I’d asked her to dinner and then drop her for another woman?

  “You’re not horning in. I want you to come or I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “You don’t think she’ll mind?”

  “No. She’s not like that at all.”

  Lawrence sighs. “Okay. But I’m out of there if she seems the least bit pissed or irritated about me being around. I don’t do lady drama.” Another thing we have in common.

  “Understood.”

  Lawrence doesn’t have a lot to say on the walk to the food vendor area. I can tell she isn’t excited about this at all but she’ll change her mind soon enough.

  “Unky Bou,” Ava yells as she runs into my arms. I don’t think this child’s feet ever touch the floor in my presence. “Where you been?”

  Patience isn’t one of Ava’s strengths. “Someone excited for fried Oreos?”

  Her little head bobs up and down. “Mmm hmm.”

  “Can you forgive me for being late, love? I had to find my friend.”

  She shrugs. “It’s otay.”

  I twist so Ava is face to face with Lawrence. “This is my friend, Lawrence.”

  “Hello. I Ava.”

  Lawrence removes her sunglasses and places them on top of her head. Light blue surrounded by long lashes. Beautiful.

  She squeezes Ava’s arm. “You are precious. Very nice to meet you, Ava.”

  “I’m Bridgette and this is my husband, Warren.” And here comes the awkward moment where people put everything together. My ex-wife, the cheater. Her husband, my best friend with whom she cheated. Their child, the product of their union.

  No one gets it. These are my buddies. I don’t hold any kind of grudge against them. I love them and their child.

  “Nice to meet both of you.” If Lawrence puts together who they are, she never lets on by her reaction.

  “Lawrence is Stout’s sister. She came to town to surprise him but he left before she got here.”

  “Ah, that’s too bad. I know he must be disappointed he missed you. Do you live far away?”

  “Savannah, Georgia.”

  “That’s about a six-hour drive?” Warren asks.

  “Yes. A very long six-hour drive when you’re by yourself.”

  “The upside is the beer festival. Otherwise, I would imagine you’d have been forced to turn around and go home,” Warren says.

  “Exactly.”

  Ava pats her palm against my chest. “Unky Bou. Get cookies now?”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” I look at Bridgette. “Does the other munchkin want some?”

  She rests her hand on top of her swollen abdomen. “I probably shouldn’t but come on. We’re talking fried Oreos. I don’t know any pregnant woman who could say no to that.”

  I look at Lawrence. “You wanna give ’em a try?”

  She scrunches her nose. “None for me, but thanks.”

  “Seriously?” Bridgette says.

  “I’m vegan. I mostly eat all natural and organic if there’s a choice.” I’m not at all surprised. That kind of diet completely fits her lifestyle. “I probably should have told you that when you asked me to dinner.”

  Bridgette straight
ens and looks at me, wearing a grin. “You’re having dinner together?”

  “Yeah.”

  I run through the list of food vendors in my head. Finch is a local, organic farmer. “I have an option for you when you’re ready—if you don’t mind eating at the festival.”

  “No problem. I’m fine with eating here.”

  “Hungry now?”

  “Yeah. I’m starving. I haven’t had anything but beer since breakfast.”

  “What about you guys?”

  “We’ve been here all day so we’re ready to go but we’ve got to get these cookies for the princess before she has a fit. We’ve been putting her off all day,” Warren lowers his voice, “hoping she’d forget about them.”

  Bridgette elbows me in the ribs. “And we’d done a right nice job until you came along.”

  I tickle Ava’s chin. “Dessert before dinner. That’s how we roll, isn’t it, Bebelle?”

  “Bebelle?” Lawrence asks.

  “It’s Cajun French. It means doll.” And that’s what this little girl is to me. My doll.

  Ava cackles. “Yes, Unky Bou. Cookies.”

  Bridgette rolls her eyes. “She’s rotten thanks to you, Boudreaux.”

  I tilt my head toward Bridgette. “And your p’tit boug will be, too.” But he won’t be sweet and delicate like Ava. I’ll make him rough and tough.

  Bridgette shakes her head. “You hear that? Boudreaux’s planning to ruin my baby boy as well.”

  “Ava knows I can’t tell her no.”

  “And she enjoys every moment of it,” Warren says.

  I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug. “What can I say? I spoil my beb and she loves it.”

  Ava pushes her finger through the powdered sugar littering our table, drawing pictures. The mess reminds me of Café du Monde. Minus the pigeons.

  “Don’t do that, Ave.” Bridgette fetches a wet wipe from her bag and cleans her daughter’s hands. Always sanitizing her. Bridgette better get ready. A boy won’t go for that.

  “What do you think of the cookies, Bebelle?”