Page 9 of The Havenport Collection

Liam

“ Y ou ready to train, Leary?” She looked ready. All fresh-faced and cute. She was carrying a notebook and pen, which made me like her even more.

“Yes, sir. I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Okay, because we have a ton of work to do.”

She smiled at me. “Awesome. I hate being bored.”

And we were not bored. Fridays are usually crazy at the brewery because we have to prep for the taproom being open on the weekend and make last-minute deliveries to local bars and restaurants.

We also have to test and catalogue ongoing batches and wrap up our brewing activities for the week. It’s a lot.

Cece kept up with me all day, asking insightful questions and jotting down notes in her notebook.

She was sharp and smart and clearly invested in learning about the brewery.

To keep her on her toes, I kept quizzing her on the names of various pieces of equipment, and she actually got some right.

Brewing was a complex science, and I was impressed by how much she absorbed on her first day.

She was especially interested in the canning and distribution processes. “So why do you can your beer and not bottle it?” she asked. “Isn’t bottling classier?”

I laughed and scratched my beard. It was getting a bit shaggy, and I should probably start paying more attention to my appearance. “Well first, cans are more popular and sell better. We want to give the customers what they want. Craft beer of this type is normally sold in canned four packs.”

She scribbled some notes in her notebook.

“And,” I continued, “because cans limit exposure to both light and oxygen, the beer stays fresher and flavorful longer. Aluminum cans don’t impact the taste of the beer and are better for the environment because they are more easily recycled.

It’s also far easier to get recycled aluminum or partially recycled aluminum than glass. ”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Everyone recycles cans, probably more so than bottles.”

“Yes. And sustainability is one of our core values here. We recycle our water and have solar panels on our roof. We’re not perfect, but we are trying.”

She stuck her pencil back in her wild, messy bun. “I can respect that.”

“So,” I said, carrying the tiny trays with freshly poured tasting flights on them, “you survived your first day.”

Cece let out a sigh and smiled at me. “I did.”

“And you listened to me drone on about beer all day. So now we finally get to drink some.”

“Yay. I’ve been waiting all day for this.” She rubbed her hands together enthusiastically and shimmied her shoulders. “Now mama needs a drink.”

She was adorable. I had spent the entire day with her, and she had proved to be a major distraction.

I kept getting whiffs of her lavender-scented shampoo every time she bent her head down to scribble in her notebook.

She was conscientious and detail oriented.

I liked it. I also liked her smile, her eyes, and her luscious ass. Employee! Employee! Stop it, Liam.

Good thing I wasn’t interested. Especially because she showed up to work looking like a completely different person.

Her wild hair was pulled back with curls escaping around her face and she wasn’t wearing heels or ten tons of makeup.

I could see a healthy dusting of freckles across her nose. I was such a sucker for freckles.

I also spent the day trying not to check out her body.

She was wearing tight jeans, Chuck Taylors, and a tiny Boston Red Sox T-shirt that left very little to the imagination.

She was a girl-next-door fantasy come to life.

All hair and hips and curves and freckles.

Stop looking and focus. She is an employee.

She was easy to talk to and smart as a whip.

But as much as I would love to get her naked, I couldn’t do that.

She was my employee, and I had to keep it professional.

And she was clearly not a one-night girl.

She was the type you take home to mom and marry.

And I couldn’t handle a relationship right now.

I couldn’t disappoint another woman by not giving her the attention she deserved.

I couldn’t commit to anything beyond this brewery. I couldn’t lose focus.

“Oh my God,” she squealed. “These tiny glasses are so cute.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is a tasting flight. It is a small sample of several of our beers so you can compare and contrast. So the golden rule of beer flights is that you start with the lightest and end with the darkest.” I placed the trays down on the large table and took a seat.

We started to sample and talk about each beer.

“This next one is All Hops on Deck. It’s our signature New England style IPA.”

“What does that mean?”

“IPA stands for India Pale Ale. At the height of the British Empire, there were British ships, sailors, and soldiers all over the world. All of whom wanted to drink beer. It was too hot in India to brew, so brewers in England brewed a beer with more hops and a higher alcohol content than regular ale. The extra hops and alcohol acted as preservatives for the long voyages from London to India so the beer wouldn’t spoil by the time it arrived. Thus, India Pale Ale was born.”

She started scribbling in her notebook again.

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to try it.

” She held the small glass up to her nose and breathed in the aroma.

“It certainly smells hoppy.” She took a small sip and left a tiny bit of foam clinging to her lush upper lip.

“Yum. That is really good. Crisp, refreshing, with a hint of citrus.”

I smiled. “I am impressed by your palate.” I take a big swig to keep myself from potentially saying something stupid.

“So what makes this New England style?” she asked, taking another big, satisfying sip.

I never thought it would be such a turn-on to see a beautiful woman enjoy beer that I had brewed, but it was becoming my favorite fantasy. “We dry hop the beer so it’s hazier and has a fuller body and smoother flavor. This style is generally less bitter and hoppy than a traditional IPA.”

She drained her glass and looked at me. “That was great. Unique and fruity and just different than anything I’ve ever had before.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I do. I never really liked beer. But I also never really tried good beer. I mean, I drank Coors Light in college like everyone else.” I shuddered visibly, but she kept going. “I just never knew it could be like this. Sharp, flavorful, refreshing, and complex.”

I was feeling warm and comfortable. I could sit here all night and talk about beer with this smart, pretty woman.

I had spent the day trying to focus and avoid the many charms of Cecelia Leary, but hearing her wax poetic about beer, and specifically my beer, made my heart soar.

I found myself grinning like an idiot and wanting to make her try everything I’ve ever brewed just so I could hear her describe my creations.

“So,” she continued, pleasantly unaware of my perviness, “you didn’t tell me what your brothers are up to? I haven’t seen them in years. I bet Callum is probably married with four kids by now.”

“Actually, no. Both my brothers are currently single and childless, much to the great disappointment of my mother. Callum was married for a bit, but he and his wife divorced about two years ago. He and Declan both live in town actually.”

“That’s awesome that you all live here.”

“Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.

Callum is a financial advisor. He has an office in Boston and goes back and forth.

Declan took over my father’s fishing business after he got out of the navy.

” The fleet was decent sized and he spent most of his time on the business aspects of things.

Processing, shipping, and delivery to all the local restaurants and stores.

He didn’t get out on the water much anymore, which was his true love.

“He is basically the same antisocial grump he was in high school.”

“That sounds about right. He was older than me but I heard he was not a social butterfly. I think he may have graduated with my sister, Maggie. I can’t believe the Captain retired. Wow.”

“Yeah, my mom basically forced him. And she is the only person on earth who outranks him.”

We sipped our samples, and I walked her through the different beers in the tasting flight. Cece was surprisingly easy to talk to.

“So now that we are drinking buddies and colleagues, tell me the real reason you came back to Havenport.”

She looked slightly uncomfortable. “What do you mean? I needed a break from my old life and wanted to be here with my family for a bit.”

“Okay, I respect that. But you were a few hours away, so you could visit to connect with your family whenever you wanted to. Why did you pack up, move here, and force me to employ you?”

I could see her visibly pale, and I instantly felt bad. I thought this was friendly banter. “Listen, you do not have to answer that. I shouldn’t have pushed.” I was such an asshole.

“No, it’s fine.” She pushed her curls behind her ears.

“At the risk of sounding like a pathetic loser, I just didn’t really have a place to go.

And I reached this point with my job and my relationship where I was numbly going through the motions every day.

And so when things blew up, it seemed like a good time to change things up.

And I’ve just been burnt out for years.”

I nodded, not sure what to say in response.

“I worked crazy hours in a high pressure situation. Marketing is brutal and I was good at it, but I have been on a wild roller coaster for years. But as soon as I got laid off, I was inundated with calls from recruiters. And every single job offer made me want to throw up. It’s like I didn’t realize I was sick until I got off the ride.

” She twisted her hair in her hand and looked up at me with those big hazel eyes.

“I’m so sorry I’m rambling. You probably think I’m insane. ”