Sweat Equity (8 page)

By the time he caught up to her, she'd spent a few seconds trying to wrench open her door, but the tears streaming down her face made that tough. He set aside fury at the man who had done this to her and touched her shoulder.

"Don't." She shrugged. "I mean, I just, oh shit." She put her forehead against the car door. Craig turned her around, pulled her into his arms. She sobbed, clutched at his shirt.

"Shh. It's okay."

"No, it's not. You are such a great guy and he's..he's a…"

"Don't make me say it."

She laughed and tilted her wet face up to his. Craig couldn't resist the urge to brush her tears away but swallowed hard against the need to kiss her. Not now. But soon, he promised himself. Soon. "Can I drive you home?" She leaned into his chest again and nodded.

By the time they got to her place, the tears had stopped. "Want to come in?" She sniffled. "I mean, you know, just to talk?"

He hopped out and opened her door. "Let's just sit here a minute." He guided her down beside him on the step. There was no way he was going in there. He knew himself well enough to know that he'd be unable to keep from taking advantage of her vulnerable state. That was not what she needed.

She went inside and grabbed them a couple of beers. They sat in comfortable silence a while. When she leaned her head on his shoulder, he shifted and put an arm around her. He knew what she'd done in that spare bedroom today with that asshole, Gordon. The need to seek him out and pummel him, and the desire to carry Sara inside and make love to her, warred in him so hard he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something idiotic.

She stood, stretching. He tried very, very hard not to stare at the muscles in her thighs and imagine her body under his, her lips, her hair in his hands. He stood and pulled her close, kissed the top of her head and started down the sidewalk towards his truck.

"Wait. I mean, can't you stay?"

"No. You get some rest. You know where to find me."

He waved, climbed into his truck and tried not to groan aloud at the ache behind his zipper. This was going to be tough. But he was determined to prove to her that he was the better man by not rushing her, which might kill him if one could die from blue balls. He smiled at the text from her.

"Thanks. You are a good friend."

He waited to text her back until he had parked and was in the elevator, headed up to the penthouse pool to swim, until the need in his belly abated.
"I know."

Chapter Seven

Blake watched as Rob fired yet another kitchen manager. The woman was not taking it well, but Rob wasn't intimidated. The tall blonde man squared his shoulders and escorted her to the door, opened it and she stomped out. Blake sighed, and turned back into the small brewery that comprised the middle two thousand square feet of the brewpub they'd opened and operated successfully for three years, in spite of the annoyingly constant turnover of staff. This meant one thing to him: Rob was spending yet more time here than at home.

He did a quick check of pH levels in the water where he was about to concoct a fresh batch of their very popular India Pale Ale. The previous day's batch was fermenting nicely, if the bubbly bucket of yeast next to the tall stainless steel vessel was any indication. Blake pulled his phone out of his pocket and noted a couple of texts, one from Suzanne Baxter, former boss and lover; and one from Sara. He leaned back against the copper brew kettle and read Suzanne's missive about her friend Jack. Frowning, he deleted it, sighed, and then hit the call button. The sound of her voice made him smile.

"Hey," she sounded a little breathless. He knew how hard she worked to make her brewery a success. Her drive had cost the two of them a relationship, but in hindsight, that was probably for the best. He gazed out over the expanse of the empty restaurant at Rob.

"Hey yourself. What's up?"

"I'm on a mission of mercy."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Save your breath. Jack's history."

"How did you know I was gonna talk about him?"

"Because, my love, I know you better than you know yourself."

Blake let the silence stretch out longer than was probably necessary. He jumped when Rob put a hand on his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the phone. "Sorry, but you know what I mean."

"Fine. But listen, seriously, he," Blake cut her off. Remembering his promise to Rob about not meddling in Sara's life, he clenched his eyes shut as the familiar Jack Gordon-induced anger roiled in his gut at her words.

"He comes near my sister again, I will kill him." Rob frowned at him. Blake turned away, intent and unwilling to let his lover's opinion of the man, who he'd gladly cut off at the knees, sway him.

"Please, Blake we aren't in high school here. Sara's a grown woman."

"Well, okay maybe I won't kill him. Castration could be arranged. He hurt her Suze, bad. I'm not gonna let that happen again."

"Don't coddle her Blake. It's not good for either of you."

"I'm not coddling. I'm keeping her safe from predators."

Rob snorted and walked away from him. Blake felt his scalp tingle at the sight of the blonde Adonis he'd fallen so hard for, right after the woman on the other end of the phone had dumped him. He closed his eyes.

"Enough about Sara. How are you? How's the new bottling line? The new distributor? I saw the lager at Meijer. Nice placement."

She laughed, making him shiver with memory. "Nice diversion Thornton. Well played." She sighed and he could picture her messing with the ends of her hair, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. He swallowed hard and willed his cock to stay soft. Damn they had been good together. But, he was happier now.

"Yeah, I'm good at a lot of stuff. So tell Gordon you tried and failed as his ambassador. Leave it alone."

"Oh, okay. Can't blame a girl for trying?"

"No, but I can blame you for your choice in friends."

"Last time I checked Rob was Jack's friend too." Her voice was sharp. "You're too overprotective for your own good you know. You should leave it alone."

"You gave up the opportunity to have much to say about what I do a few years ago." He bit down on the urge to be crueler. He wanted to be her friend, really. But hearing her voice still seared his nerve endings and turned him into an asshole.

"Whatever. Sorry to bother you."

"Wait, Suze, I'm sorry."

"No, you made your point. Sorry to meddle."

"But…" he spoke into the dead air. She had hung up. He slumped against the glass wall, a hand over his eyes. Damn her, she did it to him every time.

"Relax." Rob's voice was in his ear, his hand on the back of Blake's neck. He looked up into the other man's deep brown eyes. This was whom he loved now. The bitter irony that his own sister had been engaged to Jack Gordon, one of Suzanne's and Rob's oldest friends, wasn't lost on him. The extreme relief that she'd come to her senses and cut the guy loose had been intense at first. It had evolved into something that allowed him to sleep at night. Screw Suzanne and Jack. He pulled Rob to him, his hand grazing the other man's rough jaw.

"I know something that will help me do just that." He growled and ran his tongue over Rob's full lips, his cock stiffening behind the brewery apron.

"Mmmm, tempting indeed," Rob caressed his lips with his tongue, grabbed his ass and pulled up against his taller body before letting him go with a nip on his lower lip. "But you and I have too much work to do, lover. Besides, you'd just be fucking me to get over hearing her voice again. I told you once before I don't play that way." Rob stepped back and Blake bit down on the retort. "By the way, I heard that my friend Jack is getting a stronger grip on his inner Dom. Kyle told me he's been down at the club again, with Evan, Julie…and Suzanne."

Blake narrowed his eyes. Kyle was Rob's former lover and owner of the hottest BDSM club in downtown Detroit. "Thought you might be interested." Blake tried not to stare at the tall blonde man who'd saved him from himself that week in Chicago. "Oh, don't worry; Jack's not playing with her. They're just friends."

Blake gasped and gripped the edge of the window as Rob turned and walked away from him, whistling, hands in pockets.
Shit
. The man was too astute for his own good. He closed his eyes, willed his body calm, and turned back to the long day of brewing and trying to forget the feel of Suzanne's body under his hands once again, the way the sound of her voice made him react every single damn time still. Hoping he hadn't spoiled the lovely reunion they'd been sharing for the past couple of weeks, he forced himself to focus on the many tasks at hand. But, by the time they headed home, the tense silence had taken on a life of its own and Blake knew he'd fucked it all up yet again.

Sara stared at her phone's screen, trying to decide if it was worth her time to return the three calls from a needy seller, or to ignore her and answer Craig's text. It had been nearly three weeks since the disaster at The Farm. He'd been easy-going, flirty, but in a harmless way at work, never coming on too strong. She found herself looking forward to work, to seeing him, hearing his laugh and knowing his eyes were always on her. Did her ego good, after the beating it had taken at Jack's hands.

She squeezed her eyes shut.
Jack
.
Dear God would she never be free of him?
He had effectively ignored her, other than to check in and make sure she wasn't pregnant from the last time they…she sighed.
Craig
. That's what she needed. His lovely, soothing presence, which didn't compel her to necessarily strip off her clothes and fuck him every time she saw him, but did make her happy on a different level.

"Hey." His soft southern drawl made her smile and lean back in her chair. "So, I was thinking that you owe me dinner."

"How do you figure that?" Her scalp tingled. Why not?

"Because I bought the Coneys, remember?" She frowned.

"Oh, yeah. Wow, that was, like another lifetime ago."

"Yep. So, what's on your agenda tonight?"

"Uh, tonight? Okay." She was free and, in fact, ready. Ready to take this a step further with him. Or at least try. "Meet you at The Local? Seven?"

"Your brother's place? Sure. See you then." She smiled and put her chin in her hand.

"I'm looking forward to it, Craig."

****

Sara breezed into The Local by six thirty, her last appointment having cancelled on her, leaving her with an hour to spare. She grinned at the sight of her handsome brother, bossing the bar staff around. The jerk always was over protective, but she did love him.

He put an ice-cold martini in front of her as he finished chewing out some bartender for not cleaning glassware properly. She frowned. He seemed tense, not himself. But his familiar grin eased her nervousness as he leaned over the bar and pecked her on the end of her nose. "What's up sister?" He grabbed a clean towel and started fussing with the pilsner glasses.

"Oh, not much. Got a date." She did a quick smartphone email check. When she glanced back up at him the look in his eyes alarmed her. She turned to see what he was staring at. Rob was across the room, chatting and laughing with a couple seated at a table near the front window. She looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged. "A date huh?" She sighed and let him create the diversion. He was not good at talking about himself. It had been a solid month after he had broken up with Suzanne before she even knew about it, which had pissed her off to no end. He'd worked there for another couple of weeks before heading to the Midwest Beer Festival in Chicago where he'd met Rob. God she hoped nothing was wrong between them. They were the one solid thing in her life. She let him putz around and ignore her a few more minutes as she sipped and tried not to be anxious about an actual date with the man who'd nearly seduced her the night before she'd accepted Jack's marriage proposal. Her skin prickled, as if the air conditioner had been cranked up. She swallowed, suddenly tense. When she looked over at Blake, he was frowning, hands on his hips. "Let me guess Sara," he jerked his chin at something behind her. "This date. It's not with Jack." She opened her mouth to talk but the sudden scent of him filled her nose.

"No." Her voice cracked. "It's not."

"Good."

The large familiar hand on her shoulder made her whole body zing like a too tight violin string.

"Hello Gordon. The usual?" Blake's voice was icy calm.

"Sure. Thanks." He took a seat next to Sara. She crossed her legs and kept as much distance between them as she could. If it were possible, he looked handsomer than ever. She sighed when he bumped against her shoulder playfully.

"Don't touch me." She drained her martini and set the glass down, but her voice was weak and she knew it. Visions of them in that open house, his commanding tone, the hallway the first time, she shut her eyes against the overwhelming compulsion to climb into his lap. Damn him.

"Sorry." He sipped the brown liquor in the rocks glass, keeping his eyes forward, mirroring her.

She sighed, determined to be an adult about this. "How's the city commission these days? Get that approval yet?"