Page 16 of The Havenport Collection

Cecelia

“ I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Liam was sweeping the patio area which was covered in dirt from our plantings. His head was down so I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but his tone was clipped.

It was one of those sticky early September nights, and we were both sweaty and exhausted from a long day of work.

Everyone else had headed home and it was just the two of us, finishing up outside.

On Saturday afternoon, the taproom would open for the first weekend since our upgrades.

I had been promoting the hell out of it on social media, and I had food trucks lined up for the entire weekend.

I was praying these efforts got more customers in the door and introduced more people to Liam’s amazing beer.

Even the weather looked like it would cooperate.

I stopped watering the new shrubs and put my hand on my hip. “Oh, please. Look at what we accomplished in two days. This place is transformed. I have been Instagramming photos all day and promoting our new weekend hours. We have thousands of likes already.” I held up my phone and shook it at him.

He shrugged at me and went back to sweeping. Goddamn, he was infuriating.

“You should schedule some extra help for this weekend. We are going to be really, really busy. Especially if the weather stays this nice.” I turned around and resumed watering.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he replied sarcastically.

I whipped around with the hose. “Excuse me? I know your tiny man brain does not allow you to express gratitude, but a simple thank you should suffice.”

“Thank you for what? Planting a botanical garden? Taking my staff away from brewing for the last two days? Or for spending money I don’t have?” He was walking toward me, fists clenched, and I could tell he was itching for an argument.

“Liam, get your head out of your ass. Your community came together today to help you and your business. Busy people took time out of their lives because they want to support you. Not the brewery, not the beer—you.”

He stopped a few feet away from me and ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders slumped, and he looked almost defeated.

“I know.” His response caught me off guard.

“So what’s with the attitude?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet.

“I am just worried. What if this isn’t enough?

It’s one thing to fail myself or fail my employees.

But my family? The entire town? Everyone came here today because they believe in me and believe in Binnacle Brewing. What if I let them down?”

He looked up at me with the most soulful expression.

Under the soft glow of the new outdoor lights, his handsome face was illuminated, and I could see every worry stretched across his forehead.

I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him.

Honestly I wanted to do a lot more than hug him.

Vulnerability was my romantic weakness. I wanted to comfort him and then jump his sexy moody bones. But my feet felt rooted to the ground.

I held his gaze. “Liam, you aren’t going to fail.

And even if you did, you aren’t letting anyone down.

You’ve done a pretty incredible job on your own so far.

And with all this extra help, not to mention my superior business acumen”—I tapped my head and winked at him—“you will not fail. This place is going to be packed this weekend and then we are going to blow Oktoberfest out of the water and you won’t even remember these doubts. ”

He smiled a big genuine smile, and those gorgeous blue eyes crinkled. I swear I could feel my ovaries tingle. We stood there for a few minutes staring at each other. Needing to break the crazy tension, I tried to pivot. “Okay, that’s settled. Get back to work,” I barked at him.

“Okay, boss lady. Make me.” His grin turned mischievous.

“Oh, I’ll make you.” I turned the hose and sprayed him in the chest. He was caught totally by surprise and turned and ran from me.

I took off, spraying him continuously while he weaved around the new tables.

Just as I thought I could get his face, he ducked and ran straight at me, wrestling the hose from my hands.

“Ha,” he said, panting. “I got you now.”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Do your worst, Quinn.” I thought he would spare me.

I thought wrong. He shot the hose of freezing cold water straight into my stomach.

I doubled over and tried to run but he was faster.

I ducked behind the closest table and tried to head inside where I would be safe.

I turned around the concrete stairs that led up to the deck area, but he cut me off and was able to corner me.

“Nice try.” He held the hose up at me and smirked.

I was out of breath and my chest was heaving. Despite the freezing cold water, my entire body felt hot.

He stood there for a minute staring at me with an almost feral expression.

His Binnacle Brewing T-shirt clung to the muscles in his chest, and his damp hair fell across his forehead.

He looked muscular and intimidating and oh so hot.

In other circumstances I would be scared by the giant wall of sexy man looking at me like I was his next meal.

But my entire body was on high alert. I was hot, sweaty, and turned on.

I could feel my nipples standing at attention, and I had to squeeze my thighs together to stop the full body shiver running through my core.

We stood there, staring, chests heaving, for what felt like an hour but was probably more like two minutes.

He dropped the hose on the ground. Next thing I knew he stalked over to me, grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me into his hard, wet chest. His mouth descended on mine, and I was completely lost to the sensation of his full, tender lips.

It was messy and frantic and I held onto him for dear life.

He smelled like hops and pine trees. Our hands were everywhere.

He was gripping my ass as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Our mouths and tongues danced desperately as if we had waited years for this moment.

This was more than a kiss. This was an epic sensory experience.

His lips, his hands, his hard muscular chest. Oh my God, his intoxicating manly smell.

I had never been kissed like this in my life, and it was melting my brain.

His hands found my hips and picked me up as if I weighed nothing.

I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist without breaking the kiss.

Suddenly I was aware of something very large and hard nudging at my core.

Instead of breaking away, it made me want more.

My entire body throbbed for him. I wanted to take him home and lick every inch of his body, including what felt like a very impressive erection.

I moaned into his mouth as his hand found my breast. He curled a fist into my hair and tugged my hair back, exposing my neck to his frenzied lust. I moaned when he found my sweet spot and I longed for friction, for nudity, for more.

Under normal circumstances I would be freaking out that I was doing something wrong or wondering if this guy actually liked me.

But somehow I didn’t want to stop or analyze.

In that moment, I was overwhelmed by Liam Quinn.

I was backed up against a wall with my legs wrapped around him as we devoured each other. This was passion. This was intensity. This was adrenaline-fueled lust. This was what had been missing in my life.

And just like that, it was over. He gently placed me on the ground and took a step back.

His face was flushed and his eyes were glazed.

At least I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t form a coherent thought at that moment.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously and looked at me intensely.

I was frozen to the spot. I needed to say something, but my mouth couldn’t formulate words.

I just stood there and stared at him like an idiot.

“Ah. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t. No. Sorry,” he stammered. He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair.

He took another big step back, widening the gulf between us. “Thank you, Cece. This place looks great. Now go home and get some sleep. It’s going to be a busy weekend.”

And with that he turned around, walked back to where he had dropped his broom, and got back to work.

And I stood there, staring at him while he swept the patio, trying to regain my powers of speech after experiencing the hottest make-out session of my life.