Page 7 of More Than Words (Trickle Creek: The Lyons #2)

Chapter Five

Ethan

T he tanks were in. Wired, plumbed, and humming and ready to work.

The last few days had been a whirlwind, but it had been worth it. For the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe.

The venting had been fixed. The big garage door window had been successfully installed. And after what felt like forever, the smell of grease in the old walls had been replaced with the scent of fresh paint and sawdust.

More and more, the space was starting to feel like a real brewery, rather than an old Chinese food restaurant.

My brewery.

I stood in the middle of the room and let myself enjoy the quiet moment.

Well, it wasn’t entirely quiet. Somewhere in the back, I could hear hammering and the sound of a truck backing up with the delivery of the bar tops that Reid had handcrafted. It was still chaotic. But at least it felt a little more like controlled chaos.

Things were coming together.

Finally.

I was itching to get started by mixing up my first brew in the new tanks instead of the little ones I’d been using in my backyard shed.

I’d been playing around and refining things for months.

Tweaking until I got the ratios of water, malt, and hops just right.

The first brew in the tanks would be a milestone.

And would be the first batch I’d have on tap in Peaks her eyes fluttered closed momentarily as she enjoyed the burst of sugar in her mouth.

It was a sight that did something to me. Something I had no business feeling.

I cleared my throat and glanced away. “What about apple pie?”

“It’s a rare exception,” she said seriously. “But give me a cinnamon coffee cake or vanilla scone any day over something with fruit in it.”

Interesting. It was a detail I filed away in the back of my mind.

I nodded my head toward her notebook. “Working on a few ideas for the big day?”

She blushed and shrugged, suddenly shy.

The shifts in her personality were fascinating. Now that she’d let her guard down a little and wasn’t yelling at me for making too much noise or mess, Delaney seemed softer. More approachable. Kind of sweet even.

I wouldn’t deny that I enjoyed her feisty side, but I liked this version of her, too.

Hell, maybe I just liked Delaney.

“I actually have a few ideas,” she said after a moment. “But…I think I just thought of something better.”

“Better?” I leaned in, intrigued.

“What if we did beer pairings with genres?”

“Genres?”

“Like an IPA with thriller. A sour with horror. A wheat ale with romance. That kind of thing. Match the flavor profiles with the feel of the books.”

“You know your beers.”

She shrugged. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Truthfully, I’d pegged her more for a rosé or chardonnay kind of lady, but I didn’t bother saying it out loud. Instead, I focused on what was truly a brilliant idea.

“That’s actually…genius,” I said truthfully. “Maybe a dark stout with a historical saga. Or a cozy mystery with something kind of spiced…” My mind drifted to the few brews I currently had back in my shed and mentally calculated what I could get done in time.

“You know your books.” She crossed her arms and smiled, her turn to be surprised.

“You didn’t think I would?”

“I guess, I…” She laughed and went with the truth. “No,” she admitted. “I didn’t peg you for much of a reader.”

If I were being entirely honest, it had been a while since I’d had time to sit down with a novel and read for fun. But it didn’t mean I didn’t like it. “When I have the time, I’m a science fiction fan.”

“ Wheel of Time or Game of Thrones ?”

“I have to pick one?”

She nodded.

“ Wheel of Time . Easy.”

The smile that slowly crossed her lips and lit up her face was the first warm, genuine one I’d seen from her. The fact that something I’d said had brought it out of her filled me with pleasure.

“I think this could be a pretty good partnership, Delaney.”

She tilted her head. “I’m still not entirely convinced.”

“Ouch.”

“But,” she broke off another piece of cookie, “I’m starting to think it might not be a total disaster.”

I picked up the last piece of my half and raised it to her. “I’ll cheers to that.”

She laughed as crumbs fell to the table after our cookie toast. She still had her guard up, but something had shifted. And I was happy to take whatever opening I could get.

Delaney

The shop was blissfully quiet. Two customers browsed in the back, their soft murmurs floating to my ears occasionally while they discussed new finds with each other.

Dust motes danced in the sunlight, but for the first time in days, the dust wasn’t coming from the construction mess from next door.

The meeting with Ethan had gone better than I’d expected. To be fair, I wasn’t expecting much. But I was definitely not expecting him to offer up an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie—my favorite—and his too, apparently.

I smiled with the memory of the way we’d bonded, even momentarily, about our mutual dislike of fruit in baked goods. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d met someone else who didn’t think that was sacrilegious.

That one tiny moment had cracked something in me. Not much. But just enough to let in the smallest sliver of something that felt a little too close to charm.

Ethan is not Ken.

I needed to keep reminding myself of that. They weren’t the same.

Ethan was a bit more rugged. Just a little rough around the edges. But there was something about him that was polished, too. Like maybe he was once a businessman instead of a brewmaster.

The reality was, I didn’t know much about my next-door neighbor at all.

Except that he had a very disarming smile and a way of getting me to drop my guard.

It was dangerous.

I blew out a sigh and wandered toward the counter where I’d begun pulling books for our pairing idea. The concept had come out of nowhere, but as soon as we’d started discussing it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. As soon as I’d returned, I’d started putting together my selections.

A romance. A cozy mystery…

The fantasy section drew me in. I reached for the familiar title— The Eye of the World —smiling to myself.

Ethan’s favorite.

I had to admit, it had surprised me that he was a reader. I hadn’t expected his eyes to light up the way they had when he told me that Wheel of Time was his favorite series.

The bell over the door jingled. I turned to see Quinn. Her backpack was slung over her shoulder, her hair tousled, and her cheeks pinked from the crisp breeze outside.

“Hey, bookstore lady.”

I smiled at her nickname for me. “School out already?”

“Thankfully.” The girl dropped herself dramatically into the overstuffed chair in the reading nook.

“I don’t think I could handle any more math today.

Especially now that I know there’s a book two.

” She produced the dog-eared paperback I’d lent her from the depths of her pack and tossed it on the low table.

“You’re done already?”

“I stayed up late,” she admitted. “I had to know what happened.” She looked up at me with such excitement in her eyes, I had to laugh.

I knew she’d be ready for book two. I already had it tucked away for her.

“I hope you’re still getting enough sleep.” I handed her the sequel. “I don’t want your parents coming in here giving me a hard time for contributing to your exhaustion. Sleep is important for school.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned, “Now, you’re starting to sound like my dad.” She lifted her hand, mimicking a talking motion. “Sleep is important, blah blah blah. Don’t stay up all night, blah blah blah.”

“It sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.” But I hid my face so she couldn’t see me smile. Quinn was so much like I was at that age. Sneaking a flashlight into my room so I could read under the covers long after I should have been asleep.

“Oh, The Eye of the World ,” Quinn said, noticing the book in my hand.

“You’ve read it?” I raised my brow.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s really my style.” She shrugged and flopped back, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as she flipped the cover of the new book open. “But it’s my dad’s favorite.”

Something clicked in my brain. I looked down at the book and back at Quinn. “Your dad?”

“Yup.” She didn’t look up, already absorbed in her new read. “He rereads the whole series sometimes. Like from the very beginning.”

“He does what?”

With a sigh, Quinn lowered her book. “I know, right? It’s intense. Those are massive books, and there are so many of them.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Only, I haven’t seen those books since we moved. He probably hasn’t even unpacked them yet, he’s been so busy.”

I swallowed hard and lowered the book. “What about your mom?” I’d never directly asked Quinn about her parents. It didn’t seem my place, but now…

Her eyes clouded and her jaw flexed. “My mom’s even busier. But she doesn’t live with us. When they got divorced, she stayed in the city ’cause of work. All my friends are there, too. But Dad wanted me to be closer to my uncles.” She shrugged and the tension seemed to relax. “And they’re cool.”

Uncles. Single dad. Busy.

It all made sense. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

“Your dad,” I said slowly, “his name is Ethan?”

“Yeah.” She looked at me as if I’d just grown an arm out of my head. “You didn’t know that? He’s your neighbor.” She waved toward our shared wall.

“Well, I knew that Ethan was my neighbor.” Did I ever. “But I didn’t know he was your dad.”

Quinn offered up a shrug, already lost in her new book.

I stood there as all the pieces slid into place.

And I still had so many questions.

Mainly, how had I not known?

There might be more to this man who’d somehow charmed his way into driving me crazy.

And I wasn’t sure what was more dangerous—that, or the way I couldn’t help myself from wanting to know more.