Real Men Will (20 page)

E
RIC WENT BACK TO WORK
,
because he didn’t know what the hell else to do with himself. He had hours to kill before he saw Beth again, and his shower took only five minutes, and cleaning up his condo took only ten, so he shrugged on a Donovan Brothers T-shirt and jeans and headed to the brewery.

A good thing, considering that he walked into a disaster zone. As soon as he opened the back door, smoke billowed into his face. “What the hell’s going on here?” he barked, waving his hand in front of him as he rushed inside.

“It’s fine!” Jamie’s voice shouted from the vicinity of the new oven.

“Fine? I’m calling 911!”

“There’s no fire, damn it! Just open the back door before the sprinklers go off!”

Eric spun around and dove for the door, propping it open with a cement block they kept nearby. By the time he ran back in, the smoke was already starting to clear.

“Jamie, what the
hell?
”

“The exhaust malfunctioned.”

“Well, shut the damn thing down!”

Jamie threw him a disgusted glare. “It’s a wood-burning oven, Eric. I can’t throw a switch.”

“I told you we should’ve gone with gas.”

“And I told you that the wood adds more authentic flavor. But we both know you don’t give a shit about the food, right?”

“Yeah.” Eric laughed. “I actually care a lot more about not burning the brewery down than I do about your fucking pizzas, Jamie. Big surprise.”

“It’s just the exhaust. Nothing was burning down.”

“And now what? Just hope it doesn’t happen again?”

“Obviously,” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to call the rep right now. But I’ve got the vent locked open, so it’s fine. All right?”

“No!” Eric shouted. “It’s not all right. None of this is all right. Wallace is gone. The line is screwed. You almost burned the place down. And in a few weeks…” Eric forced himself not to say it.

Jamie threw the wrench he was holding into one of the cabinets. The crash prompted Chester to poke his head through the double doors. “Guys? Everything okay?”

“I got the exhaust fixed,” Jamie growled.

“Okay.” Chester looked doubtfully between Jamie and Eric before nodding. “Sure. I’ll just leave you alone then.”

As soon as the doors closed, Jamie stalked forward. “In a few weeks, what?”

“Nothing,” Eric muttered.

“Bull. I know exactly what you were going to say, and I am so sick of your shit, Eric. You agreed to this. I’m not asking you to jump in and pretend it’s your lifelong dream, but if you don’t get that fucking chip off your shoulder, I will knock it off.”

“We going to fight again?” Eric snapped.

“If we need to, I’m fully prepared to kick your ass. But I’d rather you just live up to the agreement you made this summer.”

“We didn’t make an agreement.”

“You said you’d support me.”

“And I haven’t?” Eric threw his hands up. “How much money have we invested in this? I’ve agreed to everything you wanted. The menu and the concept. The new tables, the new front deck. The oven and fridge and freezer. We’re doing everything you want!”

“And you resent every damn minute of it.”

“I don’t. I don’t resent it. It just has nothing to do with me.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right? We’re equal partners here. You can’t just pretend this part of it doesn’t belong to you, just because you’re not in charge anymore.”

“I never wanted to be in charge!” he yelled.

“That’s a lie,” Jamie said with a bitter laugh. “You ran the brewery on your own for years, and you still ran it on your own even after Tessa and I took our places. I’m sorry that couldn’t go on forever—”

“I didn’t want it to go on forever.”

“Of course you did.”

“I didn’t even want to be in charge in the first place. Do you get that, Jamie? I didn’t want it!”

Jamie shook his head with another bitter laugh. “Whether you wanted it or not, you sure as hell took to it like a fish to water. But you’re not in charge, Eric. You’re not the owner. And you’re not our dad.”

Eric put his fists on his hips and let his head drop. “Yeah. You don’t have to tell me. I’m pretty clear on that count.”

“Then stop sulking around here like I’m a rebellious kid who won’t do what you want. This is what
I
want. And I’m making it happen. I’d like you to get behind me, but if you won’t do that, at least get out of my way.”

“Fine. But do you really think this is what Dad would’ve wanted?”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “
What?
What he would’ve wanted? I have no fucking idea. He’s been dead for thirteen years, Eric. Who knows what he would’ve done with the place? And for godssake, you’re not the keeper of everything Dad believed in. You don’t get to lay claim to that.”

“Yeah, I’m clear on that, too. Believe me.” Eric let his head fall back and stared up at the ceiling. A few faint wisps of smoke still lingered near the lights. “I’m happy for you, Jamie. I swear I am. And I want this for you. But for me…Jesus, for me I want something else, and I don’t even know what it is.”

“What are you talking about?” Jamie growled.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know. Just…” He waved a hand at the oven. “Just don’t burn the place down, all right?”

“Eric,” Jamie started, but Eric stole out the open door and into the shade of the afternoon.

He didn’t know where he was going. Just away. Anywhere but there.

He drove for miles, and it felt good. It felt free. But would he keep driving even if he had the chance? Where would he go? Even in his imagination, his mind always turned back to Donovan Brothers. He loved that place. It was all he knew, and despite all his doubts and resentments and anger, he could never think of anything he’d rather do with his life.

Maybe, instead of worrying that he wasn’t needed anymore, he should be making damn sure he was invaluable. Jamie was right about one thing. Eric had been sulking like a kid who hadn’t gotten his way. So he didn’t want to turn the brewery into a brewpub. Big deal. He hadn’t wanted to take over the whole operation at twenty-four, but he’d done it and he’d done it well.

“Screw this,” he muttered, pulling a U-turn on the deserted county highway. If his plans for the future of the brewery weren’t good enough, then he’d come up with new plans. And Eric suddenly realized just where he’d gone wrong.

He’d been concentrating too hard for too many years. He’d put his head down and forgotten to look around. More importantly, he’d forgotten to look back. He had boxes of Michael Donovan’s old files in the spare bedroom of his condo. And even though his goal for the past thirteen years had been to run the brewery just as their dad would’ve, he hadn’t looked through those boxes since the day he’d packed them up a decade before. Maybe it was time to look again.

B
ETH HAD BEEN NICE ENOUGH
to bring dinner, and Eric had carefully laid out plates and silverware and wineglasses on his small table. But the bags of takeout sat unopened on the kitchen counter and one of the plates lay cracked in half on the dining room floor. The other plate was wedged under Beth’s naked shoulder. Eric, still buried deep inside her body, tried to catch his breath while he prayed to God she hadn’t landed on a fork.

“You okay?” he asked, lifting her enough to slide the plate free.

“I’m all right,” she said with a sly grin. “How about you?”

He stood straight, and Beth gasped when he slid farther inside her. Despite the fact that he’d come already, he was still half-hard. “You sure you’re done?” he asked, when she stretched and took him a little deeper.

“For now.” She sighed.

“Are you hungry?”

“Famished. I somehow forgot to eat lunch today.”

He was more than half-hard when he finally pulled out, overwhelmed with images of what she’d done with her mouth over her lunch hour. But when her stomach growled, he decided the reminiscing could wait till later. Though not much later if their recent past was any indicator.

When they finally sat down to eat lukewarm Chinese food, Eric found himself smiling as he chewed.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Beth said.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “I’m going to feel a little insulted if you’re not.”

She laughed. “I admit I’m still a tiny bit stressed. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.”

“Well, I’ve never had sex on a dining room table before.”

“No?”

“I won’t ask if it’s your first time, but I don’t mind telling you it’s mine.”

“And how was it? A little scary? Were you nervous?”

He chuckled as he reached for his wine. “Like a teenage boy, my eagerness overcame my nerves. In fact, just like a teenage boy, I forgot to think about your needs.”

“That’s odd. I seem to recall a pretty intense focus on what I needed.”

“Yeah, but utensil danger didn’t occur to me until after we were done.”

Beth laughed until she had to wipe tears from her eyes, and Eric realized she had been tense, even after the sex. “Are you worried about the store?” he asked.

She nodded and took a long drink of wine.

“Has anything changed?” he pressed. “It’s just…complicated.”

“Yeah. Believe me, I get that.”

“Are things still complicated at the brewery?” she asked. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to discuss her problems, but Eric was fine with that. It had been a big deal for her to open up earlier today. As briefly as he’d known her, Eric knew without a doubt that it wasn’t easy for her. What he didn’t understand was why it meant so much to him that she was starting to trust him. It was just a fling. Nothing else. And if he wanted to share things with her, that was nothing more than another basic need.

“Well,” he said, leaning back in his seat, “my brother and I almost came to blows again today.”

“Again?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“Is that something brothers do?”

“Not us. Not normally. But things have been tense this year. All this crap with the Kendalls.”

She flushed and looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Come on. It’s got nothing to do with you. I’m just sorry you’ve been dragged into it. And there’s plenty of other crap going on to stress me out. Jamie’s adding food to the menu. My brewmaster fell in love with a married woman and disappeared. And I’m just…spiraling.”

“Because you don’t know what to do?”

“Yeah. But I’m going to try to figure it out.”

“Me, too.” Her eyes were soft and worried as she pushed her food around on her plate.

“I’m glad we’ve decided to see each other, though.”

She glanced up, surprise flashing over her features. “Me, too.”

“Are you going to stay? We could watch a movie. Hang out.” Eric was surprised by the hope that squeezed his chest so tight. They’d already had sex twice today. So what was this painful need knotting him up inside?

Beth looked down, and he knew she was going to say no.
No, this isn’t a love affair. It’s not a relationship. It’s just desperate, frantic sex that neither of us want anyone to know about. We’re using each other and you already want too much.

She ran a hand down her skirt. “I’m not exactly dressed for hanging out. Do you have something I could wear?”

He let his breath out slowly, hoping she wouldn’t notice that he’d been holding it. “Yeah, as long as you don’t mind a T-shirt that’s way too big for you.”

“A T-shirt would be great.”

Yeah, that would be great. Her lounging around in panties and a shirt, her gorgeous legs curled up beneath her. Her thighs bare. “Bedroom’s at the end of the hall. My shirts are in the dresser. I’ll put the food away.”

Strange that he’d just had her on this very table, but she looked shy now as she said thank-you and stood up. But he felt it, too. That painful anticipation when they were together. That newness of finding out what made her laugh, what turned her eyes sad. They were so intimate, and yet he knew almost nothing about her. Was her real name Beth or Elizabeth? Had she played any sports in school? What did she like on her pizza? What kind of music did she like?

Beth was a closed book with him. Was she like that with everyone?

He was shoving food cartons in the fridge when he heard Beth clear her throat behind him. That brief sound was all mischief and for a moment, beautiful images flashed behind his eyes of what sorts of kinky little outfits she might have actually smuggled inside her purse. But when he stood and spun around, Beth was standing there in a T-shirt and bare legs just as he’d expected.

“Perfect,” he said, and then he noticed the pale gold scrap of fabric in her hand.

She held it up with a quirked eyebrow. “What exactly is this, Mr. Donovan?”

For one blessed heartbeat, he had no idea what it was. “Underwear?” he guessed.

“Oh, it’s underwear,” she drawled, and then he remembered.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed, his face going slightly numb with the shock of it. “I can explain.”

“Yeah? You can explain why you stole my underwear six months ago and now you keep them hidden in your dresser drawer?”

How the hell had he forgotten that? Every time he opened the second drawer on the left, there they were, accusing him of being a pervert. Reminding him of how she’d looked that night in the hotel room when he’d unzipped her dress and slid it down.

“I didn’t steal them,” he said carefully. “You left them behind.”

Her cheeks pinkened, and she covered her mouth, but it looked like she was hiding a smile. Please, God, let it be a smile.

“I thought it would be rude to just leave them there. You might have called, looking for them later.”

“I might?” she asked.

“I don’t know! I just…took them.”

“And what have you been doing with them since then?”

“What?” he gasped. Now the pictures flashing through his mind weren’t so pleasant. “Nothing! They’ve just been in my dresser, taunting me like a damned telltale heart!”

“Oh, God,” she gasped, and she was definitely smiling now. In fact, she was laughing like crazy. “The telltale heart?”

“Seriously, I felt like a pervert.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, tears leaking from her eyes.

He finally relaxed, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to join in her laughter. “You should be. What kind of girl forgets to put her underwear back on, anyway?”

“The dirty, slutty kind?” she gasped, laughing even harder.

“Exactly. And I had to live with that shame.”

Her laughter finally subsided to giggles. “Are you sure they stayed in your dresser the whole time?” She held the pale silk panties in front of her hips. “You never tried them on?”

“No!” he yelped.

“You sure? A lot of guys are into that.”

“I’m sure as all hell.” He narrowed his eyes at her naughty smile. “Why? Is that one of the things you’re into?”

“No, but I try to stay open-minded. If you wanted to try them on…”

“I do not,” he said emphatically. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing them on you again. Or off.”

She disappeared back down the hallway, and Eric followed her. “What are you snooping in now?”

“Nothing,” she answered, stuffing the underwear in her purse. Thank God, he was finally free of the responsibility. “There’s not much to snoop in here.” She glanced quickly around at the bare walls. “You are definitely a stereotypical single guy.”

Beth took a brush from her purse and began brushing out her long dark hair.

His heart skipped at the sight of his old T-shirt rising up her thighs every time she stroked. He leaned against the doorway to watch. She was beautiful in heels and tight skirts, but she was even prettier like this, relaxed and natural, her makeup worn off.

“So…” he ventured. “Can I ask what you
are
into?”

Her brush stopped, midstroke. “What?”

God, her thighs were gorgeously full. Tonight he’d have to make time to explore every inch. When he glanced up, she was staring at him, but when their eyes met, she started brushing again.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I don’t think it’s any secret that you’re more experienced than I am. Or at least more adventurous. So is there anything I’m missing out on?”

“With me?”

“In general, I suppose. But yeah. With you.”

Her eyes slid away. She put the brush down and swept her hair back from her shoulders. What was it? What didn’t she want to say? His pulse sped with a mix of excitement and trepidation. He wasn’t a prude, but there were some things he probably wouldn’t try, even with Beth. Then again…there were a lot of things he would.

“I’m not into anything,” she finally said.

His excitement smashed into bits at his feet. “Come on. I can handle it.”

Her mouth turned up in a brief smile. “Is there something you want me to be into?”

“No.”

She sat down on the plain black comforter that covered his bed. This room was too spare for a woman like her. She deserved to be surrounded by pillows and silks and bright colors.

“Eric…I’m not that exciting.”

“Ha!” That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“I’m serious,” she said quietly. “I know what people think. I get that. But I’m just a regular girl.”

There was no amusement in her tone now. As a matter of fact, she sounded so somber that Eric’s neck prickled. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know that. It’s just that I…I’m nothing more exciting than this.” She spread her hands over her bare thighs. “Honestly. That’s not to say I haven’t tried things. I’ve explored the options, just because of my job and my friends, and…in the end, I’m only…regular.”

Did she think he wanted something more than what they had? Did she think he expected her to perform tricks? Eric took her hand and cradled her curled fingers in his. “There’s nothing regular about you, Beth.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but—”

“Nice? Are you kidding me? You think I’m being nice? When I say there’s nothing regular about you, I mean every single time I touch you it blows my mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Eric—”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Whenever you call me, I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. That you’ve made a mistake, because what the hell could you need from me?”

Her hand turned until she could weave her fingers between his. “I’m not like this with other men, Eric.”

“Like what?”

“Normal.”

“Christ, what does that mean? You don’t have to tone things down for me or keep the training wheels on or whatever it is you—”

“That’s not it.” She tried to tug her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her, and eventually she relaxed again. “That’s not what I mean at all. What I mean is that it’s comfortable with you. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

“Comfortable? Are you sure that’s a good thing?”

Beth took a deep breath, her lips parted as if she was about to say something. But then she just sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

Comfortable? Like a harmless friend? He didn’t get it. He felt alive with her. So aware of her that it hurt sometimes. And she wanted to…what? Braid his hair? “Beth—”

“You have no idea how nice it is to feel comfortable.”

He frowned. “I don’t think of sex on a table as being comfortable,” he grumbled. “Or on the floor.”

Beth lifted her head and smiled at him as if he was being silly. “No?”

“No!”

“Well…” She kissed his neck, her lips pressing softly just below his ear. “What about right here?”

He tried to maintain his irritation as her words whispered over his neck. “Right where?”

“Right here in bed?” She turned and put her knees on the bed so that she straddled him. “Wouldn’t that be comfortable?”

“I’m beginning to hate that word.”

“Are you?” She pushed him down until his back hit the mattress. “That’s too bad.” She whipped off the T-shirt so quickly that Eric blinked in shock at the sight of her bare breasts. “Because I love being comfortable with you.”

“Well…” He blinked again, or else his eyes fluttered shut a little when she rolled her hips into him. “I guess
hate
is a strong word.”

H
E DIDN’T UNDERSTAND
. Beth could see that. But she couldn’t explain without revealing everything, and she couldn’t do that now. Not tonight, when it might be their last night together. Still, maybe she could make him understand with her body.

She pushed up his shirt and pressed her breasts to his skin. “It’s so nice to feel I can do anything with you. But maybe that’s just me.”

She kissed him finally, a slow, deep kiss as he spread his hands over her naked back, but when he slid his hands beneath her underwear and pulled her tighter, Beth broke the kiss and pushed up with a smile. “But maybe comfortable isn’t kinky enough for you. Is that it?”

He answered her smile, then flipped her over so quickly she shrieked. “You’ve made your point,” he growled.