Page 15 of The Havenport Collection

Liam

A llowing hurricane Cecelia into my life and my business was proving to be quite disruptive.

The Cecelia standing before me with a tape measure and a clipboard was nothing like the defeated woman who came here and begged me for a job three weeks ago.

Clad in jean shorts—oh my God, those shapely thighs—and a Binnacle Brewing T-shirt, she was directing people around and taking measurements.

Part of me was terrified. I had never given up control like this before.

But I had never had a marketing dynamo come in and whip my ass into shape either.

The guys were more energized than they had been in months.

Karl was brewing up test batches of root beer for our kids’ events, and Mark was at work on updating our logos for new T-shirts and merchandise to sell at Oktoberfest. We were brewing our asses off, working on our seasonal beers and upping production to hopefully cover for the expanded taproom hours.

Cece had convinced me to expand the hours starting this weekend, giving us only a few days to make a ton of upgrades to accommodate the extra customers, not to mention the specific areas for kids and dogs that she insisted were necessary to the survival of my business.

Speaking of the devil herself, she was currently doing a walk-through with Ellie, Mark’s interior designer wife.

A tall, icy blonde with a large designer handbag, she was a bit intimidating and nothing like I expected for artsy, tech nerd Mark.

But she seemed really smart and was very excited to help us out.

“You guys are doing me a favor,” she insisted.

“I am trying to branch out from homes to more commercial spaces. This is going to be an awesome project for my portfolio. I think you have a great space here and only need a few tweaks. The big issue is lighting. We need to highlight the industrial nature of the interior space and soften the transition from the taproom to the brewing floor. I think some lighting tweaks and a few other flourishes can make things work. I am going to swing by my lighting supplier later and see what I can get you at wholesale.”

Cece grabbed my arm excitedly. “Liam, this is going to be so great!” I tried to ignore the zing I felt when she touched me.

It happened every damn time. And sometimes I would catch a whiff of her lavender shampoo and spend the next hour trying to get another hit.

All in all, “Operation Ignore Cecelia” was not going well so far.

My brain respected and trusted her, but I could not stop my body from wanting her.

“Come see how things are going outside.”

She steered me toward the back patio where Trent was unloading one of our trucks with Kyle.

The truck was stuffed with what looked like fancy picnic tables and Adirondack chairs.

She gestured with her free hand while her other rested comfortably on my bicep.

“We are setting up a few designated seating areas over here,” she said, gesturing to part of the yard that had previously been dead grass and leaves.

“And tomorrow we are installing the string lights and some path lights back up to the building for safety in the dark.”

“You really think this will work? People will want to hang out here all night?” I looked at her, only a few inches from my face, her hand still gripping my bicep. I had to resist the urge to flex. “Oh, Liam. You have no faith in me. I will have this place filled. Just you wait.”

She whipped around me, letting go of my arm, and I instantly missed the warmth of her strong grip.

I wanted her hands on me, anytime and anywhere.

It was weird to admit, but also true. I ran my hands through my messy hair.

As exciting as these changes were, my inner control freak was screaming out in pain.

I wanted to trust Cece, and so far she had not given me any reason not to, but this brewery was my baby.

I had been burned before, and I was determined to do this on my own.

Succeed on my own and, if necessary, fail on my own.

I knew I had to make some big changes before the end of the year. If we could eke out some more revenue and expand our events, I would be able to keep up with the loan payments and float us into next year. This was doable. I just had to keep my head in the game.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even see her sneak up next to me. “Here, take a selfie with me,” she said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I was momentarily stunned as I felt her ample chest crush into my ribs. I cleared my throat. “Why?”

“For our Instagram page. I am documenting the upgrades and promoting the new expanded weekend hours.” She stood on her tiptoes and put her other arm around my neck, drawing me into her.

Her hair smelled like lavender and I loved it.

I found my hand snaking around her waist and resting on her hip.

It felt good. My hand fit there perfectly on the flare of her hip, and all I could think about was moving it slightly and copping a feel of her generous ass.

Before I could hate myself for being such a perv, she aimed her phone and got a photo of us smiling with the new furniture and layout in the background.

I had never felt so out of control. My brewery, my passion, my business was changing right in front of my eyes, and I was both hopeful and terrified. And, for better or worse, it was all because this smart, wild, and creative woman swept into my life.

One day later, I stood on the deck, surveying what was once a sad patch of grass with some decent water views.

I felt a lump form in my throat. The entire space had been transformed in less than twenty-four hours.

The community—my community—was here pitching in and helping.

All these people took time out of their busy lives to come here and help me improve my business.

Callum was planting trees and shrubs and flirting with the old ladies from the horticultural society who came out to landscape.

Declan was busy building outdoor furniture with Kyle, and Karl and his wife were power washing the cement patio and stairs.

My dad was installing a new railing around the deck area while my mom supervised and tut-tutted.

Ellie was working with Tim, the electrician, who was rigging up all kinds of lighting while Mark chased their three kids around the lawn.

Trent sidled up to me and handed me a beer.

“This is incredible, boss.” I nodded at Trent.

He was a good friend and great employee.

We grew up together here in Havenport under very different circumstances.

Where I had loving supportive parents who modeled tough love and hard work for me, Trent was raised in and out of foster care.

Some learning disabilities made school painful for him, and he had no family to support him.

As early as second or third grade, I knew just how lucky I was.

My mom always packed an extra sandwich for Trent and sometimes accidentally bought an extra pair of sneakers for him at TJ Maxx.

When I was away at college, she invited him over for Sunday dinner and my dad helped him get set up with classes at the local technical college where he was able to study mechanics.

As soon as I opened the brewery, I knew I would hire him and I did.

The thought of losing this place and not coming to work with him every day filled me with fear.

He leaned over and clinked my can with his. “I can’t believe what we’ve accomplished in three days. Oktoberfest is going to be amazing.”

I couldn’t believe it either. Seeing the community come together was both warming my heart and messing with my head.

“Are you okay, boss?”

“Is it dusty in here?” I turned around to compose myself. “Hey, Trent, do me a favor. Can you call Havenport Pizza and order dinner for everyone?”

“No problem.”

I sat and surveyed and sipped my beer. My heart had never felt so full. But I was also terrified that I was going to fail everyone. That despite not only my best efforts, but the efforts of a lot of people I respected and cared about, I was going to fail. I wasn’t going to be enough.

It was one thing to fail myself. But to fail my town, to fail the people I cared about deeply? It was unconscionable.

Shane sidled up to me. He looked so different in a T-shirt and work boots.

He was such a smooth salesman, I don’t think I’d ever seen him without a collared shirt.

He was in his late thirties, divorced, and a bit of a man whore.

Not that I would say that to his face. He was a good guy, and despite his day job as a realtor, he gave everything he had to selling our beer and keeping our accounts happy.

He clapped my shoulder. “Liam, my man. This is amazing.”

“I know.”

“ She is amazing. I can’t believe how much she’s accomplished in a few days. I also can’t believe that you gave up control long enough to let her.”

I was feeling defensive. “What does that mean?”

“I mean no offense, man. It’s just you are a bit of a control freak who wants to do everything himself.”

He had a point. We had worked together for four years, and at this point my control freak tendencies were a well-known fact. “Yeah, yeah, none taken.”

“So, speaking of hurricane Cece,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Is she single?”

I instantly got very annoyed with Shane. “I don’t know. She is our colleague so it would probably be inappropriate to ask.” He better not try anything with her. That was the last thing I needed right now. Cecelia was way too good for him anyway.

“The word on the street is that she is single. I overheard your mom talking to her mom. I think I’m going to ask her out.

She’s not my usual type, but she is hot in that natural sort of way.

” He took another sip, and I hoped he choked on it.

“And damn, I’m glad it’s tank top weather because she’s been hiding those spectacular tits. ”

I instantly saw red and wanted to punch his smug face.

I was a lot bigger than him, so it wouldn’t even be a fair fight.

Trying to gain some control, I instead grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him up against the back wall of the building.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that.

She is not a piece of meat, you sexist asshole.

” I was inches from his face. I could feel my blood boiling in my veins.

How dare he speak about Cecelia like that?

He pushed me back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”

“Don’t you have two daughters? You’re a fucking pig. I don’t care how long we’ve been friends. Don’t you dare ever speak about one of my employees like that, or any woman on earth, for that matter.”

“I said sorry. Why are you overreacting, Liam?” He took another step back to put some distance between us. “What? Do you have a thing for her?”

“No, I don’t have a thing for her. What a ridiculous thing to say.”

Trent, ever the peacemaker, clearly sensed the tension and hurried over to the deck where we were standing. “Everything okay, guys?” he asked nervously.

“No. Liam just went psycho because I said I was thinking about asking Cece out.”

Trent punched Shane in the shoulder. “What is wrong with you, dude? You can’t ask her out. Liam obviously has a thing for her.”

“You guys are insane. I do not.”

Trent, my oldest and closest friend, rolled his eyes at me.

He turned to Shane. “Yeah, boss man definitely has a crush on her. I don’t blame him, she is pretty awesome.

And she calls him out on his shit.” I hated Trent in that moment.

The problem with him knowing me since grade school was that he could apparently read me like a book.

But hearing him say those words out loud made my eye twitch.

I shoved him. “Lower your voice, dumbass. Cecelia is my employee, and a very good one that I would like to retain. She is smarter and more resourceful than both of you idiots combined. I admire her professionally, and that is all.” I took a long sip of my beer, willing my heart rate to slow down.

“This is a business. Both of you need to act professionally.”

Trent gave me a look that said “Dude, I’m your best friend so stop lying to yourself . ” Thankfully he didn’t share those sentiments out loud.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you had called dibs. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Shane smirked at Trent who tried to look innocent. Trent clinked his glass. “I totally called this after our staff meeting last week.”

Shane looked at him incredulously. “Bullshit. No, you didn’t.”

“I so did. I could see the sparks fly. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks they get married.”

“Done. I’ll take that bet.” Behind me, Shane and Trent shook hands and I couldn’t even muster up the energy to object.

Because I was too busy watching Cecelia.

She was helping Kyle move one of the tables that Declan had finished building.

She was laughing and smiling in the late summer sunlight, and she looked so capable and beautiful it took my breath away.

She was wearing cutoffs and a tank top, her wild hair in a knot on top of her head.

She didn’t have a scrap of makeup or jewelry on, but she was breathtaking.

Her intellect and confidence were as much of a turn-on as her spectacular curves.

She had ideas and enthusiasm and passion.

I was awestruck watching her in her element with the community, directing everyone to get the job done.

And it was so hot. I had to look away and find something productive to do before I found myself agreeing with Trent and setting a wedding date.

I turned around to see both guys staring at me. They had clearly seen me lusting after Cece. I needed to put a stop to all this bullshit and get my head on straight.

“Okay, guys. I’m going to go pick up pizza. Get your asses back to work.”