Chapter Sixteen

Charlie studied the foamy brew in the mason jar mug in front of her. “And it was like this when you got here this morning?”

Shep nodded. “Yep. Dwight was the first to notice. Said his Lone Star was skunked or something. Look at the head on that pour. And it looks more like an unfiltered wheat.”

She held the mug to her nose and inhaled. Definitely not Lone Star. Either they’d got a bad keg, or someone was playing a joke on them. As she considered which was the more likely option, Beck strolled in.

“Hey, you like the new brew?” He nodded toward the mug in her hand.

She set it on the bar, not hard enough to break but hard enough to splash some up and over the edge of the mug.

His lips corkscrewed into a frown. “Not a fan, huh?”

“What did you do?” She rounded the bar, hands on her hips.

“I heard you say something a while back about trying a new seasonal brew, so I talked to the rep and asked for some recommendations. This one’s an unfiltered wheat with a hint of lemon. Perfect for an afternoon out at the lake or a picnic at the park. Crisp and refreshing on a hot summer day. And we’ve got plenty of those around here.” He nodded, smug, satisfied, and oh so proud of himself.

“And where’s your seasonal beer made? Austin? Waco? Amarillo?”

“Brooklyn. I thought I’d bring a little bit of New York to Texas.”

“Brooklyn?”

“Just try it.”

“Fine.” She nodded toward Shep, who filled a clean mug with a couple of inches of foamy brew and set it in front of her. Taking a sip, she let the liquid roll over her tongue before she forced it down.

“Well?” Beck asked.

“It’s awful. Shep, can I get a water? Quick?” She guzzled half the glass of water he filled. “You try it.”

Beck sniffed the beer left in her mug, then downed a mouthful. “No, this isn’t what it’s supposed to taste like. They sent me the wrong stuff.” He reached for her water.

She pressed a palm against the front of his tacky button-down. He’d gone all in with embracing the local culture, and today’s shirt practically blinded her with the mishmash of pink, purple, lime green, and yellow paisley. Looked like a unicorn had pooped a rainbow all over his shirt and then danced in it. “You replaced our Lone Star—the official unofficial beer of Texas—with some skunked beer someone thought up in Brooklyn?”

“Hey, it came highly recommended. Besides, alcohol content is thirty-percent higher. Customers ought to be happy about that.”

She let go of his shirt and shook her head. “That might pacify them a bit if it were drinkable. Shep, get the rep on the phone. He’s got to come fix this.”

“Sure thing, Charlie.”

She leaned toward Beck. “Can I talk to you in private?” She didn’t want to hash things out with an audience. It was bad enough people had been whispering about them behind their backs. Dixie even mentioned she’d heard someone taking bets on whether they’d “sealed the deal” already.

“What did I do?” Beck followed her to the office.

She waited for him to come in behind her, then closed the door. “You cannot, under any circumstances, open the Rose tonight without Lone Star on tap.”

“It’s just a beer.”

“It’s not just a beer. It’s a way of life, it’s a…” She struggled for the right word that would illustrate the severity of the moment.

“Tradition,” he muttered.

“Yes. It’s a tradition.” She wrapped her arms around his, sliding her hands down his forearms until she held both of his hands in hers.

“Don’t y’all ever buck tradition around here?”

Her jaw dropped.

“What? Is it so crazy to think they might appreciate a change once in a while?”

Charlie poked him in the chest. “You said ‘y’all.’”

He scoffed. “Did not.”

“You sure did. I’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

He pulled her close, nestling her into his chest. “I promise that beer is good. Real good. Something must have happened to it in shipping.”

“Mm-hmm. We’ll fix it.”

“What would I do without you?” His chin rested on her head.

“You’d get your ass kicked for serving skunked beer, that’s what you’d do.”

Beck’s hand smoothed over her hair. “Well, then thank goodness you’re on my side.”

“Always.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He didn’t need encouragement. Wrapping his arms around her midsection, he cupped her butt and lifted her onto the edge of the desk. Mouth to mouth, heart to heart, she ran her fingers through his hair. He’d let it grow, and she loved the way the ends curled over her fingers. He nudged between her legs, pushing her thighs apart with his hips.

“We don’t have time,” she mumbled into his mouth.

“Two minutes. Then I’ll go take care of the beer.”

Two minutes would turn into two hours if she let it. Time had a funny way of passing too quickly when she immersed herself in Beck.

He worked his hands under her shirt while his mouth connected with her neck. She moaned. What was two minutes in the grand scheme of things?

“Charlie?” The office door creaked open.

She hopped off the desk, right into Beck. One hand yanked her shirt down, the other went to his chest, pushing him back to create a little space between them.

Dwight’s head poked through the crack in the door. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” The narrowed eyes and tight-lipped grimace showed he knew exactly what they’d been up to.

“No, I, uh, was just heading out front to talk to Shep about that beer.” Beck stumbled backward.

“And I have to head out on some errands. We were just—”

“Talking,” Beck said, at the same time she said, “Going over some financials.”

Dwight squinted at them, obviously not buying the story they were selling. “I see. Dixie’s out front collecting canned goods for some charity.”

“I’ll be right there.” Charlie nodded, eager for Dwight to disappear.

“I’ll tell her.” He didn’t retreat, just glared at Beck.

“You can go now,” Charlie said.

He left but didn’t pull the door closed behind him.

“I don’t think Dwight likes me anymore.” Beck hugged her to him.

“I wouldn’t worry about Dwight.” She snuggled against him for another long moment, then regretfully pulled away. “I’ve got to go. I have a ton of errands to run and then the vet’s coming over to take a look at Baby Back. She’s been acting funny for the past couple of days.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“Nah. You take care of the beer situation. I’ll take care of the pig.”

Beck released her, but not before stealing another kiss.

She paused at the door. “Oh, and don’t forget, my family is coming for dinner tonight.”

“That’s right. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He’d better be. They’d been sneaking around and trying to keep things quiet, but everyone seemed to know what was going on anyway. And what they didn’t know, they’d made up. Shep even told her one of the regulars said he’d seen the two of them skinny-dipping in the creek a couple days before. She’d decided she better clue in her family before her dad heard something through the grapevine and decided to test out his new bull castration equipment on her boyfriend.

Tonight would be the night. She’d invited the whole family to an early dinner at the Rambling Rose. Come tomorrow, she’d be either breathing easier or disowned. Based on the reconnaissance Darby had been running, it didn’t sound like her brothers would be too rough on Beck. But there was one thing about the Walker boys she could count on—they were predictably unpredictable.

* * *

A few hours later, Charlie knelt down next to Baby Back and ran a hand over the sow’s belly. “You sure about that, Doc?”

“Time will tell. But based on my experience, you’ve got yourself a pregnant pig here.” He removed his glasses to wipe them on the edge of his shirt. “When did you say the incident occurred?”

Charlie counted backward in her head. “Been a couple of weeks.”

“Then I’d expect she ought to deliver her litter right around Labor Day.” He let out a slight chuckle. “Seems fitting, eh? Laboring on Labor Day?”

Fitting? No. Nothing about this situation seemed fitting. What was she supposed to do with a pregnant mascot? They’d never had a knocked-up sow on staff before. She thanked the vet for taking a look and sat with Baby Back while he packed up his things and made for the parking lot.

“What am I going to do with you?” Charlie muttered.

Baby Back snorted while she nudged her head under Charlie’s hand, begging for another scratch.

Charlie couldn’t wait to fill Beck in on the news. Technically, this was his problem. But he wouldn’t know what to do with a pregnant pig any more than she did. They could figure it out together. They’d been doing a lot together lately. She blushed as she thought about how “together” they’d been.

She gave Baby Back the last apricot from her pocket and stood. Best get inside and share the news with Beck. They still had a few minutes before her family would arrive. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she told him he’d have grand-piggies.

Ten minutes later, she wasn’t disappointed.

“You sure about that?” he asked. His brow furrowed, shoulders hunched.

“Um, not absolutely. It’s not like we did an ultrasound and saw the little buggers swimming around inside.”

“Well, then how does he know?”

“Doc Martin has been a large animal vet for thirty-five years.” Charlie put her palms down on the desk and leaned toward him. “I want to know what Marilyn is going to offer in piglet support.”

He cracked a grin. “Let’s assume Marilyn is out of the picture. Baby Back is going to have to do this on her own. She’ll have us, of course.”

“Us?” Charlie raised her brows.

Beck stood, walked around the desk, and wrapped her in a hug. “Absolutely. I’m here for you. I had equal part in this and am going to make sure you don’t have to handle this on your own. When’s the due date?”

“Due date? What due date?” Brittany poked her head into the office, an apron in one hand and her order tablet in the other.

“Nothing.” Charlie broke the embrace. “It’s, um, Baby Back. She’s having piglets.”

Brittany squinted, looking back and forth between Charlie and Beck. “The pig is pregnant?”

“Yeah. The pig. Crazy, huh?” Beck funneled his hands through his hair.

“Yeah, crazy.” Brittany nodded like she wasn’t convinced, then disappeared down the hall.

“Well, crap on a cracker.” Charlie batted at his chest.

“What?”

Seriously, the man had no clue. “You’d better get on out there. I’m sure Brittany’s telling everyone I’m knocked up now.”

“The pig. We told her Baby Back is pregnant.”

“Yeah, and you sounded so convincing. You’re going to have to talk fast.”

“Me?” His eyes went round.

“Yep.” Charlie put her hands on his shoulders and whirled him around to face the door. “Right now my dad’s probably headed out to his truck to grab his shotgun.”

She wanted to laugh at the expression on Beck’s face. He looked like he couldn’t tell if she was pulling his leg or telling the truth.

“I’m not joking, cowboy.”

He groaned. “I guess I’d better mosey on out there then.”

“Beck?” He looked up. The low burn hit her gut as he met her gaze. Every single time. “If I were you, I’d run.”