Paradise Hops (2 page)

She never breathed a word of it to Garrett. And she had no idea why. It was something he would have surely supported, likely even helped and encouraged her, but she somehow needed to keep it separate from him. The man had been nothing short of amazing on most every level for her, but yet she was keeping—had kept—this crucial piece of information from him. The fact that she had applied for, had likely been accepted to the Munich Brewing Institute, and would be living in Germany for the next two years, plus the bonus knowledge that she hadn’t told Garret a thing about it, would only fuel the fire about her “trust issues.” But she had never dreamed they would accept her.

She held a quick inner dialogue with him, the one she should have had months ago, reiterating how much she’d enjoyed brewing beer. She’d remind him that her family’s company needed her expertise, especially if what they expected happened and the highly strung brew master, who now ruled the roost in the Brockton Brewing Company, bolted after a year. She would tell him how, in the six months she’d spent under the tutelage of that master brewer—one Eli Buchanan—she’d fallen in love with the brewing process and had a wicked bad case of the hots for the man himself.
Yeah, that part she should probably leave out.

Her hand shook as she berated herself, recalling the gentle way Garrett Hunter had guided himself into her life and into her heart.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, meaning it. Her vision blurred as she hung up. She did love him, but she would have to make a choice. She dropped into a kitchen chair and opened the letter. The simple words printed there changed her life forever.

Part I

“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”   

~  William Shakespeare

Chapter One

One Year Earlier

Lori walked past her father’s secretary’s empty desk intent on discussing the report she had from the restaurant manager with her father. “Dad, I’m worried about Frank’s side of this.” Shoving a lock of unruly hair behind her ear and pushing her glasses up her nose, she opened the large door, already talking to him. “Honestly, I don’t think he considered…Oh…,” she stopped dead in her tracks. The heavy horn rims slid back down.

 “Lori, allow me to introduce Garrett Hunter. He’s the business manager I told you about.” Ron Brockton rose from his massive desk and joined her at the door, putting a protective arm around her waist. The man-vision that had her choking on her own spit stood up from his chair and stuck out a hand. She looked at it, then started when her dad jabbed her in the ribs.

“Uh, hi.” She wiped a palm on her itchy wool skirt. The vision’s eyes never once faltered from hers. If anything they started to twinkle.
Jesus. Eyes actually did that?
She suppressed a groan and let him take her hand. The warmth from their touch spread instantly to her scalp then down her spine.

“Pleased to meet you. Your father has been telling me about your experiment here.” Lori stared at their still-joined hands, wondering how long they could stay connected and remain polite. She never wanted him to let go, and she hadn’t felt that way about a member of the opposite sex in a damn long time. She loved the sound of his amazing voice. “Immersing yourself in every aspect of the business, from back of the house food prep to accounting is a really great way to learn it all.” He gave her palm one last squeeze, then dropped it, leaving her bereft.

She gulped. “Oh, um, yeah.”
Wow. Way to impress Mr. Perfect, Lori. Nicely done.
When the incredible male specimen before her smiled, Lori’s heart stuttered, really and truly, just like in the romance novels she’d once loved but had abandoned.

“So, Garrett, why don’t I let Lori show you around?”

She gaped at her father’s words. She already sensed sweat gathering under her pits. She must reek of desperate female. “No, Dad, I….”

“That would be great, Ron, thanks.” Lori swallowed hard and stared at Garrett Hunter long and hard. He commanded the room as if he were six foot ten instead of his perfectly average six foot two. Thick chestnut brown hair was cut close, clean, like the smooth line of his square jaw. The words “noble Roman profile” sprung to mind as she pondered his nose and chin and those incredible deep emerald eyes. The expensive-looking gray suit fit him perfectly.

Her father cleared his throat. She jumped, dropped the spread sheet she’d been clutching, bent down to grab it as her elbow hit a coffee cup on the nearby table. Warm, black liquid dripped onto the hardwood floor. “Christ,” she muttered. “Sorry, I’m a klutz.” She glared at both men.

Her father frowned then his face softened. “It’s okay honey. I’ll get this. You show Garrett around.”

“But….” She gave protest one last shot. Garrett kept quiet.
Awkward
. “Fine. But I only have about twenty minutes.”

“Take your time Lori,” her father waved a hand. “I’ll tell Frank he can wait.”

By the time she’d reached the end of the tour, Lori figured Garrett must think she was either an utter dolt or the most lame-ass introvert on the planet. She’d stuttered and spluttered through introductions, company history, could smell the flop sweat oozing from her pores. She took a breath, turned to face him and got unnerved all over again.

“So, ah, yeah. That’s it, I guess.” She slumped against a tall fermentation vessel. “My next cycle of work is here, on the brewery floor. I start in about a couple of weeks, right after the new Brew master comes on board.”

“I heard. Eli Buchanan. Pretty hot shit, that kid.” He made no move to end their chat. Lori tried to relax, but the old sickeningly familiar rush of fear of being alone with a guy, any guy, made her head pound. Garrett frowned as if sensing her distress and took a step closer, forcing her to move back against the tall metal vessel.

“Uh, sorry, I should go.” She side stepped him and glanced at her phone. “You can head back the other way. Dad just texted me. He’s ready to meet with you again.” She turned without another word and hightailed it to the back towards the locker room, then dropped down onto a bench, her heart in her throat.

He’s just a man, Lori. Not a predator. Calm down
. She tried to visualize the beach, ocean waves, anything to quell the rising panic attack. But it kept moving towards her, smothering her like a dark, heavy blanket. “Stop!” She shouted into the empty room, employing yet another coping technique foisted on her by her therapist. “Stop right now.” She stood, went to the sink and splashed water on her face, swiped at her damp armpits with a paper towel. Her face crumpled. A tear ran down her cheek. She was weak, afraid and angry, unable to stop yet another descent into despair.

Garrett forced himself not to stare at the compelling swing of Lori’s hips as she stomped away, recalling that split second he’d laid eyes on her. Her huge hazel eyes, blinking like a deer in the headlights behind those ridiculous glasses had made him catch his breath. He’d tried to stay casual but remembered having to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from tucking a dark corkscrew strand of hair behind her ear. He squared his shoulders, shot the cuffs of the too-expensive shirt and turned and headed back in the direction she had indicated to sign a contract for his dream job: business manager for the largest craft brewery in the state of Michigan.

A soft sound made him stop. Not quite a moan, more like a loud sigh of unhappiness floated out from the dark depths where Lori had disappeared. He found a large door labeled “employees only” and shrugged, shouldering his way through it. He was within minutes of being an employee anyway, he self-justified the trespass when he heard it again, accompanied by a gasp and shout. “Stop!” The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Was someone hurting her?

He reached out to push the locker room door open. An older woman he recognized from earlier in the day materialized seemingly out of nowhere and put a hand on his arm. “She’s okay hon. Leave her alone.”

“But she’s…,” he gestured towards the door where the unmistakable sounds of crying now emerged. Nothing made him launch into full protective mode like the sounds of a woman crying. As the little brother to three sisters he’d been well trained in that department.

“No, no, it’s all right. She does this sometimes and is best left alone. Poor dear. She’s been through so much.”

Garrett bit his tongue against the urge to ask what exactly was making the beautiful woman behind the door sob as if her heart were breaking. He took his hand off the door determined to wait it out and see her again. The door blocker crossed her arms over an ample bosom. Garrett stared her down, employing the most severe “I’m the boss” look he could conjure. She didn’t budge. He made a mental note to give her a promotion.

“Okay. I’ll leave her alone.”

“There’s a love.” She patted his arm, while not so subtly steering him out of the hallway and back towards the main building.

Chapter Two

Lori tugged on the jeans and turtleneck that comprised her new work uniform, the ungodly hour still flashing in neon green on the bedside clock.
Four thirty. Not even the damn birds were awake.
She made herself a cup of strong tea, burned her tongue on it and grabbed her keys, cursing herself for being late on the first day of Brewing 101.

She smiled at the bouquet of tulips on her small kitchen counter. The card was typical Garrett, few words, tons of meaning. “Until next time, Yours, G.” She held onto it a minute and let it sink in, allowed herself be a bit late in order to relive the previous night’s first official date with him. Her first real date in years.

A thrill of anger, fear, and stress forced a shiver down her spine. She swallowed the urge to crawl back under the covers, made herself think about Garrett—his deep green eyes, old-fashioned, almost courtly manners, and dry sense of humor. And his patience, that had worn her down with admirable persistence. Her heart stopped its annoying pounding, and she congratulated herself for taking a huge step. Her breath made little puffs of air in the silent early morning light as she headed to the car, her heart and step light at thoughts of Garrett.

 She pulled into the nearly nonexistent traffic. Brockton Brewing’s official commercial facility was in an industrial area on Ann Arbor’s far west side that had started to revive after her family’s company had located and expanded there. The drive from her house gave her time to calm her breathing. Thoughts of the handsome man who seemed intent on wooing her made her smile .

He’d been all over the place his first weeks on the job. Briskly reorganizing the office, charming the ordering department women into letting him change their entire system from semi-antiquated to almost-modern overnight—her father had been ecstatic. “That kid has done more in a week than I could have done in a year. I swear it.”

Garrett had swept through the warehouse too, hired new staff to clean it up, and already had an automation company drawing up plans to bring Brockton Brewing kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. At one point she’d “bumped into him,” yet again, as he traversed the back offices where she was completing her last few days of accounting and ordering work. She had put a hand on his suit-covered arm, relishing the easy familiarity of the touch. Then flushed bright red at his captivating smile and at the hand he’d placed on her back as they stood together. She had forced herself to keep her voice light as she spoke. “Better slow down. People are starting to talk.”