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In the elevator, I rehearsed my half-forgotten lines under my breath. The familiar thrill of nerves and excitement hit me as they always did before a performance.
The crew worked around the pool when I arrived, tuning cameras, lighting rigs, and positioning boom mics. The sun glinted off the water like diamonds, nearly blinding.
Anthony and Ben lounged in the pool, elbows resting on the slick tile, laughing at something one of the lighting techs said. They were shirtless and casual, ready to do their part to help me on my quest.
Melanie stood under an umbrella with a headset looping around her ear, mid-rant about framing some perfectly wide shot.
Then I spotted Sophie at last. She’d piled her hair high in her signature messy bun, tendrils escaping with a brush along her collarbone.
A sleeveless red sundress fluttered around her thighs like she walked in a breeze even when the air stood still. Onehand clutched a clipboard stuffed with pages of shot lists and whatever else she needed to keep her day in order. The other cradled her phone as she squinted through her glasses at it. She looked resourceful, brilliant, like an orchestra conductor, making sure every note sounded immaculate.
I wove through the crew and tugged her aside, heart flipping as I dodged a boom mic.
“Why didn’t you wake me, Soph?” I asked, voice low, pulling her in.
“After last night, I figured you needed a little extra sleep. And I needed to get here early and oversee things,” she said, not shifting away. Warmth rolled through me. “The makeup artist is waiting for you, and Melanie’s already losing her mind. Do you remember your lines? Because if not, we could run through?—”
I brought a hand to her cheek. “Hey, boss babe. Good morning.”
Her gaze softened. The sun caught the gold flecks of her eyes, and I saw something fierce in them that made my chest tighten. She wanted this for me as badly as I did.
“The sun is shining,” I went on, voice low and earnest, “the pool looks amazing, and you’ve done all this work to make me—and Holly Creek Hops—shine. So stop worrying.” I leaned in and kissed her, right there in the middle of her nervous spiral.
Her body froze for a heartbeat, then her arms curled around me. She kissed me back with a swirl of warmth and need that sent a hum of electricity straight to my groin. A small mewl slipped from her throat—impossible to ignore. I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in, a hint of something sweet.
I pulled back just enough to hold her gaze. “Now trust me to do my thing, okay? I won’t let you—or Richard—or my company down.”
She exhaled, lips forming a tight grin. “Okay.”
After makeup and a quick production brief, I reached the pool with Anthony and Ben. We rested our elbows along the pool’s edge, each of us holding a can of Holly Creek Hops.
“Action!” Melanie barked.
Anthony turned, water beading on his shoulders. “So, how are things at the brewery, man?”
I cradled my can label facing out, pretending nonchalance. In reality, my heart thrummed through every detail. “Really well. We’re expanding nationwide. This weekend we debut special brews for the bride and groom—like this one I call the ‘It Takes Two Brew.’”
Ben lifted his can in salute. “I’ll drink to that. Good stuff.”
“Looks like its groom approved.” I laughed and took a long pull. The beer tasted of crisp barley and a dream I’d worked for since my first experimental batch.
Anthony grinned. “If I ask Cassandra to marry me, think you’ll name a brew after us, too?”
His question came completely off script, and I almost spit out the beer. My chest tightened considering I once hoped for Cassandra and me to get together.
I half-joked to keep the mood light. “I’d need a stronger beer for that.”
As if fate had queued her entrance, Cassandra burst onto the deck. “Are you going to ask me?” she shrieked. “Because the answer is yes!” Before anyone could blink, she flung herself into the pool, arms winding around Anthony’s neck as they sank beneath the surface.
Ben raised his can in triumph. “Now that’s brewedwithlove!”
“Cut!” Melanie shouted, clapping her hands. “That’s a wrap! One and done—I don’t think we can get more perfect than that.”
The guys and Cassandra moved on as I climbed out, droplets pearling down my chest. Sophie handed me a towel, her eyesbright with pride. My heart surged—her approval felt like victory.
“Good work,” she murmured as we stood shoulder to shoulder, watching footage on the monitor. Her warmth pressed into me. “You’re pretty cool on camera, Keaton.”
I leaned in, voice low. “Know what I’d really like to do? Dive in again. With you. No cameras. No Cassandra. Just us.”