THE RIGHT BREW
Book IX in the Men of Marionville collection
Contemporary gay romance
An All Romance eBooks Best Seller!
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Hollis Milnor didn’t think twice about moving to
Marionville. His ailing cousin needed his help running his nightclub, Frolic,
and Hollis needed to put some space between himself and an ex-boyfriend
determined to make his life miserable. Management skills he has. Experience
running a nightclub, not so much, but he’s a quick learner.
Caleb Brewer is a steady, hard-working man establishing a
microbrewery. He’s got a great product and demand for it is growing. When a new
manager takes over the hottest nightclub in Marionville, Caleb is determined to
maintain his prior arrangements.
What starts out as business quickly heats up the summer
nights. Hollis hesitates, reluctant to step over the legal line. Caleb isn’t
just a vendor. He works part-time at the nightclub. Becoming involved puts them
both in murky waters, waters that become crystal clear when the past catches up
with Hollis and puts everyone he loves in danger.
EXCERPT
I sat across from him and he
handed me a cold brown bottle. I read the label aloud. “The Right Brew. Summer
Brew.” I looked at him and grinned. “Now I get it. What else would you call it,
Mr. Brewer?”
He laughed. “I know. It’s
pathetic, isn’t it? Last name Brewer. Brewing beer and putting ‘brew’ on the
labels. Really sad.”
I popped the lid and held the
bottle out to him. He tapped his to mine and we lifted them to our lips in
unison.
The fragrance hit my nose a split
second before the clean, crisp liquid caressed my tongue. The sweet taste of
wheat, yeast and honey, registered in my mind. I swallowed and waited for the
lingering traces to change flavor. It was light and crisp with no bitterness
and a neutral aftertaste.
“Good God, that’s smooth, Caleb.
How much of this do you have?”
“Not nearly enough. This is the
final recipe for this blend. It took me a year of playing with it to get it to
this. I can only make batches of twenty-five hundred liters at a time.”
“You’re not about to get rich
anytime soon.”
“Profit margin would be better if
I had product on tap somewhere. Bottles cost a bit.”
I didn’t like where this
conversation might be headed. “So that’s another reason you asked me out to
dinner last night? To soften me up to the idea of having it on draft here?”
He jerked. His reaction was too
quick, too unschooled, to be anything except genuine.
“No, Hollis. That is not why I
wanted to take you to dinner. And it’s not why I asked you to come out here
away from the noise and confusion inside to have a drink with me.”
I took a deep breath and stared at
my feet. “I keep inserting my foot in my mouth when I talk to you. I’m not sure
why I can’t stop doing it.”
“Yeah, it’s a mystery, for sure.”
I looked up at him and saw a
guarded amusement in his eyes. He wanted to laugh at me but didn’t want to
offend me. I saluted him with my bottle and took another drink. He stood and
turned to sit beside me, shoulder-to-shoulder.
He leaned on me, and then
straightened. “Although, now that you mention it, what do you think about
putting a quarter keg in upstairs for a test run?”
“I’ll have to check to make sure
we don’t have anything in the agreements with other distributors that would
prevent it. I think you’re right that this is a brew that would appeal to the
Tea Room crowd rather than the power drinkers downstairs.”
He bumped against me again. “I,
um, had to rearrange some plans to accommodate a change in Dylan Donoghy’s
schedule. He’s coming in this evening for his private tasting. Bear’s going to
reserve the back booth. Can you join us?”
I was mildly surprised Donoghy was
coming in on a Saturday night. I was given to understand he and his posse were
regulars at the Sunday afternoon card club.
“I’d love to. I’ve not yet been
formally introduced to him.”
“Okay. He’s going to be in about
eight-thirty. You have plans for dinner?”
I leaned into him. “No, but I
don’t want to leave the premises two nights in a row. Plus, this is my first
Saturday night and all that.”
“I sorta figured. I, um, hoped we
could grab a bite upstairs later.”
I thought about that for a moment.
It always came back to the fact I had a job to do. Would it cause dissention
among the staff if I seemed overly friendly with him?
Or were the rules different here?
I was a gay man managing a nightclub with a predominantly gay clientele and
staff. Would anyone really find it inexcusable if I made a friend? And what if
that friendship deepened? It was possible that instead of being annoyed with
the boss, they’d be amused. I was willing to take a small risk and grab a
sandwich with one of their own.
“Okay. I’d like that. Text me
around seven o’clock and I’ll come upstairs and meet you.”
He downed a swallow of beer. “You
just surprised me. I thought I’d have to talk you into it.” He smiled at me.
“Even though you did already point out to me you’ve got to eat.”
I wished I looked the part of a
sexy stud when I smiled, but I was just an average guy. I bumped against his
shoulder. “I’ll even buy today. I have an allowance for food and drink.”
“Aye. Right. As if James would
utter a peep if you went over that.”
“He wouldn’t, so I plan to
behave.”
Caleb slipped his arm around my
shoulders and pulled me to him. “I think that’s a piss-poor plan.”
My lips parted in surprise a split
second before his mouth touched mine. I closed my eyes.
THE RIGHT BREW
Book IX in the Men of Marionville collection
Contemporary gay romance
Available at iTunes/Apple
Available at Amazon
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KC Kendricks
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