Merry with a Brewmaster (The Love Beach Holiday Collection)

1. Vienna

1

VIENNA

2 WEEKS LATER

“ H ey Vienna, thanks for coming in,” Isaac Nowak says as soon as I open the door to his bar, Love Beach Brews. He’s the fiancé of my best friend, Reece, and also one of my favorite people in this town with his tousled brown hair and surfer vibes.

He has a penchant for kitschy classic beach décor and the song “Cheeseburger in Paradise” by the late great Jimmy Buffett, which he makes us play at the opening of the bar each day. I like to give him a hard time about it, but secretly, I love his enthusiasm and the way he loves Reece just as much. It’s the way I feel about flowers.

Kinda.

Working here has put me that much closer to being able to rent and open a flower shop in downtown Love Beach. Well, the summer rush had put me closer. But with the tourist season winding down, Isaac’s offer of a nannying job for the new brewmaster is exactly what I need. It’s a short-term solution to funding a lifetime dream, and honestly, I can make anything work for a few months.

“So what do we know about this guy?” I ask, hopping up onto the barstool and stealing a cherry from the case on the other side of the bar.

Isaac glares at me, but it holds nothing but humor as he snaps the top of the container shut and dries another glass.

“He’s thirty-five with a seven-year-old daughter and a bunch of experience brewing beer. He had another job lined up but it fell through. He’s Saige’s cousin,” Isaac says, referring to the local real estate agent he got me in contact with when I said I needed a retail space.

“Does he have a name?” I ask as I pull the knotted cherry stem from my mouth and show him proudly. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head because he’s used to my antics.

“Wells something —I can’t remember—I have it on his application here,” he says distractedly as he riffles through the folder on the bar, but it doesn’t matter because all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Because there’s no way. “Oh look, here he is.”

Never in my life have I wanted to disappear faster than right this very second as my summer hookup walks into Love Beach Brews.

The new brewmaster.

The single dad who needs a nanny brewmaster .

My mind latches on to the fact that he’s a father and didn’t tell me—that we hooked up an entire summer and I didn’t know he has a child.

But why would I? We were only supposed to be fucking…

Wells’s soft green eyes widen as his gaze locks with mine.

And he’s wearing the shirt I love so much on him.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

For some reason, it’s the shirt that has me blinking back tears. They’re angry but they’re still tears and I’m not a crier—I never have been.

And now, I need to get out of here.

“Vienna, this is Wells Reiser. He and his daughter just moved to Love Beach. We’ve hired him as the brewmaster, and he’s the one I told you about needing a nanny,” Isaac says, completely missing the way I’m trying to murder the man next to him with my mind.

“I can explain—” Wells says without even glancing at his boss—my boss. Our boss.

Nope.

Hard pass.

“You can fuck right off is what you can do,” I snap, Isaac’s gaze bouncing between us.

“So obviously you two know each other,” he says, slightly amused, as I turn a withering stare on the man whose only saving grace is that he’s my best friend’s fiancé.

“I’m going home. Don’t put me on the schedule with him, and you can forget I ever offered to nanny,” I bite out, spinning on my heel and pushing out the door and onto the sidewalk.

Wells curses behind me, his footsteps loud as he jogs after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him.

“Will you wait a damn minute?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Wrenching my arm from his grasp, I take a step back. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You moved into my town. You knew I lived here.” He grimaces. “How long did you know?”

“Vienna, just?—”

“How long did you know?”

“Right after the last night we were together. The job I had lined up fell through and I had to scramble to find something fast. Isaac put up the posting and,”—he looks away, running his hand over the back of his head—“I don’t know. I thought I’d have time to figure this out once I got settled.”

“In a town this size?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know I got hired at the place you work? You can’t go five feet without tripping over another bar.” He motions down the road which, to his credit, is littered with all kinds of bars and restaurants.

I ignore the dig because I can. “And your daughter?”

Wells spreads his arms out to the sides, his wingspan impressive and his muscles strong—muscles I’d been well acquainted with not long ago.

“I don’t let her meet the women I’m fucking.”

His hands drop to his sides but the words, however right they are, feel like a slap to the face.

Wow.

The words shouldn’t hurt but they do. I must not school my expression fast enough because Wells’s face is painted with regret.

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“I think it came out exactly like you meant it.”

I try to walk away again, but just like before, Wells grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop. “She’s only seven, okay? I haven’t dated. My divorce has only been final for a year, and my ex-wife is sometimes in the picture and sometimes not. It’s exhausting and you wanted to just keep things casual, and I needed that, Vienna.”

“I can’t be your nanny.”

“I haven’t asked.”

“Good.” I turn but only manage to take three steps before he’s caught me and whirled me back around. “What?!” I shout, hating that just smelling his cologne makes my panties wet.

“Now I’m asking.” His expression is filled with sincerity. “Please? I…don’t know anyone here.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” His tone is amused. Playful. And I have to shut that shit right down.

“Knowing how I like my pussy licked doesn’t mean you know me,” I hiss. Wells’s eyes darken, the green intensifying as he stares at me. “The way you’re looking at me right now says you want to strip me out of my clothes and bend me over the hood of this car.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“You’re going to keep your hands to yourself? Be professional when you know how I taste? I’m not sleeping with you while I’m watching your kid.”

“She needs stability, and as much as it fucking pains me not to touch you—I won’t.”

“Not even an accidental boob graze.”

He growls, his gaze dropping to my chest. “I promise.”

“Was I a rebound?”

“What?”

“A. Rebound.”

“Does it matter? No. I’ve hooked up with a couple of women, but I was seeing you the longest. What does that have to do with anything?”

I have no idea why, but that little kernel of information makes me feel absurdly victorious.

I shrug one shoulder. “I wanted to know.”

“And what? That makes me a shitty father for taking time for myself—getting lost in a beautiful woman—when my daughter is with her mother? Her grandparents?”

“Don’t put your insecurities on me,” I say, taking a step forward and jabbing my finger into his chest. “I don’t have any idea what kind of father you are, but you don’t get to put words in my mouth.” The corner of his lips twitch and I narrow my eyes. “Or anything else.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Fighting was our favorite kind of foreplay,” I tease.

“Yeah, and now that it’s off the table, I can’t be half hard every hour of the day, so you need to knock it off.”

“I didn’t agree to watch your kid.”

“Haven. She’s seven. Loves reading and playing with kinetic sand and being outside. She’s smart and curious and my whole damn world.” He takes a step closer, leaving barely a breath between us. “Please, Vienna.”

“I’ll think about it.” Moving back, I cross my arms over my chest. I hate that he can so easily get into my head. That he can light my body on fire with a single glance.

“Isaac said your lease is up soon.”

“He did, did he?” I make a mental note to kick his ass.

Wells holds his hands out, the epitome of surrender. “Just to say that might be an issue. We’ll have an extra room, and with the hours at the bar it might be easier.”

“Easier except when I want to sleep with someone else.”

“Then go to his place,” he says through gritted teeth like it actually pains him to say it.

How did we get here?

Things with Wells were supposed to be low-key fun, and no one was supposed to get hurt. But as I watch him right now, his chest heaving, I know he’d be furious if another man touched me.

And even worse?

That knowledge lights me up inside.

“Don’t wear that shirt again.”

He rolls his lips inward. “I just needed an extra boost today.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to wear it here again. Or anywhere I might be.”

“Seems a little unreasonable.”

“That’s my specialty.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it, his lips pressed into a hard line to stop whatever he was about to say from escaping.

I could guess, but it would probably only make it hurt worse.

“Will you think about it?” he asks instead, shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, the dark wash on the denim absolutely working for him.

God, how I hate to lust after this man.

“I need a couple of days.”

“Absolutely, of course.” His other hand reaches for me but drops just as quickly, like he remembered belatedly he’s not allowed to touch me.

“Might want to get back in there and talk to your boss.”

He swallows, his eyes serious as they meet mine. “Getting to you was more important.”

“Wells…” I warn, but he shakes his head as he takes a step back.

“Just think about what I said, and text me in a few days.”

“I don’t have your number anymore.”

Grinning, he gives me a thorough once-over, his eyes lingering on my lips.

“Yes, you do. I’d bet this shirt on it.”