Page 22 of The Havenport Collection

Liam

I was simultaneously pulling two pints and taking four more orders from the bar. Loud music from the German brass band filled the air, and I was both excited and terrified by the massive crowd at the brewery.

We were tapping new kegs every half hour, and the kitchen door was a blur with food coming in and out.

Normally I would be thrilled, but we were severely understaffed and it was only three o’clock.

We had eight more hours to go, and I didn’t know if we could hold on.

On the bright side, everyone was having a great time.

But I didn’t know if we had enough beer, food, and staff to pull this off.

We’d hosted Oktoberfest before, so it’s not like we didn’t know what we were doing.

But this was easily ten times more people than we usually had.

Thankfully Cecelia had prepared everything.

She knew we were going to draw a big crowd.

Once again, she was ten steps ahead of me and I had to catch up.

I had been pouring beers for hours. I was supposed to greet and mingle and oversee everything, but that went out the window the minute the place became standing room only.

I would love a bathroom break or a drink of water, but those seemed like faraway dreams at the moment.

In my peripheral vision I could see Cece directing Trent and Kyle and hugging some customers who just came in.

From the corner of my eye it looked like my parents.

I made my way over to the other side of the bar.

“Liam,” Cece exclaimed. “There you are! I called in some reinforcements.” I had been internally high-fiving myself all day for renting the German costumes.

Cecelia looked so unbelievably hot in that outfit, the image would be seared in my brain forever.

She had done her hair in some fancy braid thing and was wearing red lipstick.

When we got here this morning, the sight of her carrying beer steins in that outfit, with the short skirt and low top, gave me an erection so painful I had to go to my office and read sports scores on my phone until it went away.

All I wanted was to flip that skirt up and…

focus idiot, this is the biggest day of your career and your mother is five feet away.

“Sweetheart,” my mom exclaimed, “this is incredible.” She was already rolling up her sleeves, clearly ready to jump in. My mom was the best.

The Captain smiled at me. “Well done, son. This is quite the turnout. How can we help?” The military man was always ready and willing to take orders.

Cece swooped in with a charming smile. “Mrs. Quinn, could you take over host duties? We need to collect and wipe down the menus and get the tables turned over for those waiting. I have a feeling you’d do a great job.”

My mother was tickled. “Of course, dear, I’ll keep everyone moving.”

“And Captain,” she said, putting her arm around his shoulders, “could you man the front door? We need someone to greet, help people find tables, and keep an eye on our numbers. I have Declan outside setting up a waiting area because I think we are getting really close to capacity.”

“Got it, sweetheart.” And my dad winked at her. He winked. The man can barely hug us on our birthdays, but Cecelia Leary had him eating out of her hand. I wish I could say that I was not totally impressed by how easily she charmed my parents. Jesus, I was a goner for this girl.

Also, how was she keeping tabs on the numbers while running everything else and serving food and drinks?

And Declan wasn’t even supposed to be here until five.

She must have texted him. And she knew to give him a Declan-friendly activity.

She even found time to pop around with her camera, taking tons of photos and documenting the event.

My mind, heart, and dick could not take the constant onslaught of her awesomeness. It was making me dizzy.

The day was a wild, happy blur of beer, pretzels, smiling faces, and congratulations from friends and family. It was incredible.

Burt was sitting in the dog area with his yorkie. He was wearing a blue and white checked bowtie in honor of Oktoberfest. “Liam,” he called over to me, “I usually like a carefully crafted cocktail or a glass of fine wine, but your beer is fantastic. This event is so wonderful. Bravo for you, son.”

“Ooh yes,” squealed Mayor Liza, who was sitting at the next table with her wife, Gail, and some of the ladies from the horticultural society.

“Susan over here is retiring this spring.” She gestured to a middle aged woman with a closely cropped afro.

“We were just saying she should have her party here. How do we get on your event calendar?”

I gave Susan my card and told her to email me next week. I’d have to talk to Cecelia about parties. But that sounded like a great idea.

I bussed tables, said hello to various friends and acquaintances, and worked my ass off. At one point, I was running an order of soft pretzels to the lawn, where parents were sprawled out while their kids ran in the grass and played with the outdoor toys, when I felt a hand on my arm.

“Hey, Liam.” It was Maggie Leary, Cece’s older sister.

She was sitting at a table with Mark’s wife, Ellie, while their kids played.

For sisters, they didn’t look much alike.

Maggie was tall, serious, and imposing. She was beautiful, for sure, but she didn’t have the warmth and spark that Cecelia did.

But then I guess I was just biased. I didn’t know her very well, but her husband Josh was friends with Callum and sometimes played basketball with us on Sunday mornings.

I didn't see him, but assumed he was around somewhere.

“I just wanted to say congrats. This event is fantastic.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“And thank you for taking a chance on my sister. She really needed a chance to spread her wings a bit.”

“Don’t thank me. I would be lost without her. She did all of this,” I said, gesturing around me.

“Awesome. Well, I hope you appreciate how amazing she is.”

Huh. That sounded coded and ominous. Was I missing something? “Oh, don’t worry,” I said awkwardly. “I know how lucky we are to have her.”

“Good,” she said, giving me an icy glare. “Don’t forget it.”

I excused myself and headed back into the bar. That was uncomfortable and weird. Before I could analyze it further, a twirl of a skirt caught my eye.

The eighty-year-old band leader had grabbed Cecelia and was dancing with her to the music. She followed his lead as they pranced around to this traditional German tune that I could not name if my life depended on it.

I was mesmerized. Cece was irresistible.

The outfit, her hair, her dazzling smile.

She looked so joyful and free. The old man was having the time of his life and so was she.

People were clapping along to the beat, and others joined them dancing.

I watched him expertly twirl her, and her full skirt splayed out, rising just a few inches to display a tantalizing glimpse of those gorgeous thighs.

Her wild hair had begun to escape her braid, with curly tendrils framing her face.

She was incredible, and the ache inside me grew.

I wanted her so badly, but what could I do about it?

I couldn’t act on these feelings. I couldn’t address the tension between us.

I just had to keep my head down and hope it eventually went away.