“I can’t get over this weekend’s numbers, but the spreadsheet doesn’t lie. It just goes to show that I was right. Bringing in a brewmaster to make handcrafted beer on site was the best idea ever. If the sales keep up like this, I’m going to be able to increase employee hours across the board.” I pushed my chair back from the desk and spun around to focus on my brother. “I’m sorry, you didn’t call just to hear about the business.”

Scott laughed in my ear. “Hey, it’s fine. I love hearing you so excited, Todd. And don’t forget, I am an investor. I probably should at least have some idea of what’s going on down there, right? Now tell me more about the hot brewmaster.”

Leaning back in my chair, I blew out a breath as I stared at the ceiling fan slowly whirling above me. “I never should’ve told you about that night at the Big O. But like I’ve told you, that was just a one-time thing. His focus is on his son and his job, which is exactly as it should be.”

“How old is his son again, four? That’s such a cute age. Hey, have you introduced him to any of our friends? I’m sure the kiddo could use some play dates.” Scott sounded like he was thinking aloud.

“Since Allie is his nanny, I’m pretty sure she’s made sure that he’s been getting to know all the other kids. I’m not sure what all they’ve been doing; I’ve only seen Simon once or twice. He’s a cute little bugger, I can tell you that much. He wears these glasses that are way too big for his face so he’s constantly pushing them up or wrinkling his nose to hold them in place while he peppers me with a million questions.”

“Aww, that sounds adorable.” Scott sighed in my ear a second later. “Shit. I’m sorry, but I have to run. I just heard something crash in the next room and Heather is yelling that she didn’t do it, and we both know what that means.”

“She totally did it.” We were both laughing as we said that in stereo.

After I got off the phone with Scott, I headed out to the kitchen to check on the prep. “Hey boss, watch your step because Tony dropped his sausage again. I mean really, you’d think the guy would learn to finesse his grip at some point. You gotta cradle the meat in your palm.” Davis, my right-hand man in the kitchen, was full of innuendos as usual, I could see as he mimed jerking off a thick sausage. I glanced over where Tony was on his hands and knees, peering under the large, center island while the other kitchen guys stood back out of his way.

Shaking my head, I made a wide berth around Tony and checked the trays of sausages. “Nice uniformity, guys. Mind the twists at the ends, we don’t want the meat to burst its casing.”

“Right? It’s always a problem when the meat bursts too soon.” I stifled a groan at the sound of my friend Tom’s voice.

“Well, hell. Look what the cat dragged in.” I grinned over at the doorway where Tom stood surveying the kitchen with a smirk. His perfectly shaped eyebrows were raised so high they nearly touched his bright ginger hairline. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what brings you out our way? Don’t you have a job of your own to get to?”

Tom waved a dismissive hand. “Allie needed a ride today. Hot daddy Colin is having her car tuned up and I’m off today. We’re having a big picnic with the guys and all the little chickies at the park today. I wanted to check in on you anyway, so here I am, m’kay?”

“Okay.” I smiled affectionately at the imp. “Then you’d better get over here and give me a hug.”

Tom skirted around Tony with a grin. “I love it when I arrive somewhere to find a man on his knees.”

“Careful, Tommy boy. Wouldn’t want to make that big alpha of yours get all jealous over poor Tony there,” I laughed as I gave him a hug. “I’d hate to see Tony leave town in fear of his life.”

“Please, my hot alpha daddy knows I’m all his.” Tom looked around the kitchen, visibly sniffing the air as he playfully leered at my staff. “My, it really is a sausage fest up in here, isn’t it?”

“What’s a sausage fest, Mr. Tom? Is that a party? I think I’d like to go to one of those. Sausage is the best.” I rubbed a palm over my face at the sound of Simon’s voice. He was standing there with Allie, looking thrilled to be here while Hugo stood behind them trying not to laugh.

“Little pitchers and those big ears,” Tom mumbled before turning with a bright, welcoming smile for the trio who’d walked in. He flashed me a wink over his shoulder. “Of course it’s a party, Simon. A sausage fest is always guaranteed to be a celebration… hmm, never mind. What’s going on, Allie? Did you need me?”

Allie shot her dad a knowing smirk. “Simon wanted to say hello and thank you for the treats you sent, and ask a favor.”

Simon wasn’t satisfied. “Mr. Tom, is a sausage fest where you eat the meat or play with it?”

Tom turned three shades of red while Hugo simply pursed his lips together, a flash of humor dancing through his eyes while my guys all stifled snickers and Allie looked horrified. I took a deep breath and focused on the child. From what I’d seen, if a kid had a question, it was based on logic.

I skirted around Tony as I walked closer to Simon. “Hey, sweetie! Before I answer that question, why don’t you tell me why you’re asking?”

Simon shrugged and pointed at a raw piece of meat laying on the floor near the trash can. “Because it looks like someone was having a food fight, instead of trying to eat anything.”

“Oh! You found the missing link!” Tony popped up and raced over to retrieve the missing sausage.

“Dude, you are the missing link. Seriously, you’re the wurst,” Davis laughed. “How you managed to get it all the way over there, I’ll never know.”

“It depends on how fast it was thrown, plus it probably rolled really good,” Simon chimed in quite reasonably.

Hugo ruffled his son’s hair and tickled his neck while shaking his head at my crazy kitchen staff. “You guys are a mess, you know that, right? But then again, I’d hate to meat a crew who made sausages all day and didn’t enjoy a well-seasoned pun or two.”

Tom giggled wildly while the rest of us groaned at his joke. “You’re full of schnitzel, sir. But I suppose sausage jokes to tend to roll off the tongue.”

Hugo’s eyes were dancing. “I’d say that pun was a mis-steak, but I almost wanted to schnitzel my pants laughing.”

“To be frank,” Allie shrugged with a deadpan expression, “I thought my dad’s joke was a bit of a wiener myself.”

While everyone snorted and choked out laughter, Simon looked around with a confused expression, his nose scrunched up to hold his glasses in place. “I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, sweetie pie. This is just grownups being silly. We tend to get weird with the sausage jokes,” I tried to explain through my own laughter.

“Oh, okay. Is that what a sausage fest is? Everyone talking about sausage and laughing?” He was still stuck on that one. Poor Hugo was going to have fun with that later.

“Never mind about the sausage fests, kiddo.” Hugo must’ve read my mind as he went for distraction. “Why don’t we ask Mr. Todd for that favor now?”

“Oh, right! Allie did say something about that, didn’t she?” I walked over and squatted in front of Simon, so that I was on eye level with him. “What can I do you for today, good sir?”

Simon giggled. “I’m not a sir, I’m just a kid!”

He was too cute for words. “I stand corrected. What can I do for you today, good kid?”

“Um.” He looked around shyly then leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “My friends invited us for a picnic and Miss Allie thought we could bring hot dogs, if that’s okay.”

I clapped a hand to my chest dramatically. “Then you’ve come to the right place! If you’re looking for hot dogs to impress your buddies, then you’ll find mine will be a wiener.”

It took him a second, then his eyes went wide. “You’re being funny, aren’t you? ’Cuz wiener means hot dog but sounds like winner? I get it.”

And yet he wasn’t laughing. I grinned at his dad. “There’s nothing like having a four-year-old dissect a bad pun to let you know it’s time for new material.”

Hugo ruffled Simon’s hair again. “Yeah, the kid takes the fun out of my best lines too, so don’t feel bad.” He paused as if second-guessing whatever he’d planned to say next, then slowly winked. “If it helps, I’d be happy to let you drop your puns around me anytime you’d like.”

I felt his presence behind me before I heard Tom speak and barely refrained from groaning. “Tom is intrigued. Tell us more about this dropping of puns you’d like to do with our Todd.”

“Nope, we’re good on puns for the day.” I shot to my feet and took Simon by the hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let me hook you up with a dozen hot dogs and some sides for your picnic.” I hazarded a glance at a smirking Tom who was looking more intrigued by the second. “The coffee is already set up in a carafe at the chef’s table, Tommy boy. I left it there an hour ago, but it’s airtight so it’s still going to be hot and fresh. Help yourself, we can catch up after I get Simon’s picnic under control.”

Allie, the gorgeous angel that she was, distracted her dad by looping an arm around his waist and asking about desserts. Simon tugged on my hand as I led him over to the hot dog warmer where I knew the guys had a batch already prepped for the lunch rush.

“I have money, Mr. Todd. How much do I owe you?” His big gray eyes were an exact replica of his father’s.

“No charge, good kid. This is on the house today. Consider it a gift from one friend to another.” While I spoke, I released his hands and donned plastic gloves so I could put the hot dogs together.

Simon scrunched his nose again. “But that’s not fair. You had to pay for them, right?”

This kid was too much. “Hmm, how about this? If you helped me make the hot dogs, you’d be working, right?”

He thought about that for a moment, then slowly smiled. “And then they wouldn’t be free ’cuz I worked for them?”

“Hey, it’s okay, Todd… I don’t want you to go to any trouble.” Hugo spoke from over my shoulder; he’d obviously been following along.

“No trouble, man. Are you kidding? You guys broke up the monotony around here.” Davis came sliding in between us, dropping a small apron over Simon’s neck and efficiently tying it before I could respond. The kiddo was practically swimming in it; despite it being the smallest we had on hand, it was too big for him.

I had to laugh when he showed Simon how to put on the plastic gloves that engulfed his hands, and jutted my hip out. “Davy, grab my phone and snap our pic. This is one I want for the staff album, our very own mini-chef in the making.”

A large firm hand that definitely wasn’t Davis slid into my pocket and retrieved my phone, making sure to caress my butt in the process. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to get blinded by the flash as Hugo took our photo.

He grinned at the screen then showed it to me. I looked like I’d seen a ghost, while Simon stood there beaming from ear to ear in his overly large apron and flappy plastic gloves that hung off his hands. A highly amused Tom could be seen watching avidly in the background. I blew out a breath and waited while he slid my phone back into my pocket.

“Thanks, Hugo.” I spoke quickly, putting my attention back on Simon and off his too-sexy-for-words father. “Now, let’s get this meat in the buns, kiddo.”

“I swear I thought I had the best job working with sweet ballz all day,” Tom snickered. “Who knew that making hot dogs could be so… sultry? Sliding meat into the buns, m’kay? Best. Job. Ever.”

Distracting Simon from my friend’s inappropriate humor, even if I was fairly certain it would go over his head, I showed him how to put the hot dogs together and slide them into the paper-lined foil wrappers.

“This is fun, Mr. Todd,” Simon chirped as he focused on getting a finished hot dog into its wrapper. “I like working!”

“Well, if your dad doesn’t mind, you’re welcome to come hang out with me when you get back from the park later. I’m making pretzels this afternoon, and I could use a hard worker like you.”

Simon bounced up and down, his little body vibrating as he peered over his shoulder at Hugo. “Can I, Daddy? Please?”

Hugo looked at me first. “Are you sure it’s no bother?”

“Would I have offered if it were? I’d love to spend some more time with Simon, if it’s okay.” I smiled at the memory of making pretzels with my Oma as a boy. “There’s nothing like being a kid and getting to help bake, trust me. I think Simon will enjoy himself.”

Hugo nodded with an odd smile. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, then yeah. I’ll probably be working late today anyway. I want to get my new Popcorn Beer finished up. It will be just the thing for the end of summer, and I want to give it a little extra time in the barrel aging process, so it needs to get finished today if possible. Speaking of which, I’d better get to work.” He bent and kissed his son’s cheek before wistfully running his eyes over my body and turning to leave.

“Perfect, then it’s a date.” I smiled down at Simon. “And you won’t need to wear those awful gloves. We’ll have time to wash your hands well enough so you can get in there and help me knead the dough.”

By the time we had the hot dogs all bagged up and Simon’s apron and gloves removed, Allie thankfully rushed Tom and Simon off to the park before the imp could ply me with questions. I wasn’t fooled though, I fully expected a phone call before I went to bed tonight.

“Thank you for letting us barge in on your date with Simon.” Allie glared playfully at her dad while the four of us sat on the high stools at my butcher block table, rolling balls of dough around in our hands.

“Please, Todd doesn’t mind if we’re here and neither does Simon.” Tom flashed me a wink. “And since my younger chickadees are on a sleepover and hot daddy Colin is still working, what else was I supposed to do with myself?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” I let my voice trail off playfully. “Maybe let your daughter go home and have a life after working today?”

Allie shook her head. “If I were at home, I would just be studying anyway. This is pretty relaxing, I have to say.”

I showed them how to start rolling the small dough balls into long, snaking tubes that we would twist into the pretzel shapes. “What would you even be studying? I thought you weren’t taking any classes this summer.”

Tom dramatically rolled his eyes. “This girl is no fun, let me tell you. She’s already purchased her textbooks for fall and is pre-reading the material. Who does stuff like that?”

“Apparently our Allie does,” I laughed. “That’s not a bad plan, Allie. How many classes are you taking this fall?” I glanced at Allie before checking on Simon’s progress. “Make it even all the way down, Simon. See how I’m doing it? Run your hands along the length and make sure that it’s nice and even all the way.”

Tom snorted but thankfully kept whatever naughty thought had flitted into his mind to himself. Allie quickly answered me, as if afraid of what her dad might say if she didn’t fill the silence. “Mostly general ed classes, but I’m taking a full course. I figure if I get most of the general ed out of the way early, I can focus on my major—once I figure out what that will be.”

“That’s a solid plan.” I nodded. “Very good, Simon, keep doing it just like that,” I encouraged him after glancing over to see that he had followed my directions to the letter.

Tom leaned forward to see what Simon was doing. “That is quite impressive, Master Simon. Are you sure that you’re only four and not secretly a master baker?”

Simon smiled shyly under Tom’s enthusiastic interest. “I’ll be five this fall. But my mom says I’m an old soul.” His hands paused as he looked around at the three of us curiously. “Does that mean I’m all wrinkly on the inside?”

“No,” I chuckled. “It means that you’re wise beyond your years, I think.”

While I’d wanted to ask about his mom but hadn’t dared, Tom had no such compunctions. “Where is your mommy, pumpkin? Does she live nearby?”

Simon shook his head. “My mom has houses everywhere. Sometimes she lives in New York or Los Angeles, but other times she lives in faraway places like Paris and London. It depends on where she’s working.”

Huh. That was interesting. Now I really wanted to know her story, or Hugo’s story, I should say. Again, Tom had no problem asking the hard questions. “Wow, that’s a lot of places to live. What does your mommy do for work? It sounds like she has a busy job.”

“Yes, she likes to work a lot. She’s a sommy yay and likes to drink a lot of wine.” He frowned slightly as he wagged a finger. “But that’s only for grown-ups, kids don’t drink wine.”

It took me a second before I realized that he’d been trying to say sommelier. So my brewmaster slash cicerone had been with a sommelier, huh? That made sense, I supposed. The more I heard, the more I really wanted to know his story. But there was no way I was going there. Maybe if Hugo and I ever got to know each other better, it would be different. But not the way things currently stood. But then, the way he’d openly checked me out this morning and stolen that sneaky ass rub had me wondering if maybe I wasn’t the only one remembering our night together.

I snapped out of my thoughts and focused on the pretzels. “Okay, guys. Now what you want to do is grab each end like this and we’re going to lift it carefully and set it on the tray like this.” I demonstrated with my own as I set the center of my dough loop on the baking tray and began to form a pretzel. “They don’t have to be uniform. In fact, I like having each pretzel be unique. But basically, what you want to do is make the swooping loops like this, then let the ends hang over the bottom. Then we’re going to give it a little push like this, and move on to the next one.” They watched closely as I demonstrated, then copied it with their own. Again, I was impressed by how well Simon was doing.

The rest of our baking session flew by before I knew it. I’d wanted to chat with Hugo when he came to pick Simon up, but I was getting really nauseous at that point and wanted nothing more than to finish down here so I could get upstairs to my apartment.

Thankfully, Simon didn’t give me a chance to worry about it. He grabbed the bag of finished pretzels I’d put together for him to take home and ran for his dad the second Hugo walked in the kitchen. While Simon was excitedly gushing about his day, Hugo flashed me an apologetic smile while he listened to his son and I focused on cleaning up our work area.

Allie followed Hugo and Simon out, discussing their plans for the next day while Tom sidled up beside me. “Okay, spill. You don’t look so hot all of a sudden. Are you feeling okay?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, for the past couple of weeks I’ve been getting sick every night around this time. Especially if I haven’t eaten in a while. It’s like if my stomach gets empty then all of a sudden it wants to revolt. I should probably see a doctor.” I sighed, then looked up with alarm. “Aw, hell. I hope I don’t have an ulcer or something. That would probably suck, right?”

“Every night around this time, hmm? And only for the past couple weeks?” Tom tapped a finger to his lip while he stared at me as if considering something. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance that you could be pregnant, is there?”

My mouth dropped open at the suggestion. “No! I mean… I don’t think so? We totally used a rubber that night at the Big O and it’s been almost a month now so…” I trailed off in horror as I realized what I’d just revealed.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Tom advanced on me with a mischievous smile. “You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and not finish your sentence.” He stopped and put both hands to his mouth as his eyes widened with gleeful awe. “Holy shit, you totally went upstairs at the Big O, didn’t you? Did you see the jungle room? I used to love that place. And for the record? Condoms don’t always work, toots. So,” his voice lowered to just above a whisper, “Who were you up there with, and more importantly, do I know him?”

When my eyes inadvertently flashed toward the swinging kitchen door, Tom gasped. “Noooo! Your hot new employee? Are you being for real right now?”

“What? I didn’t say a word.” I set my jaw stubbornly as I swallowed back the rising tide of bile that was hitting my throat.

“You didn’t have to,” Tom snorted, then put an arm around my waist as he rested his head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I may tease but I also know how to keep my mouth shut. Now tell me, do you need a pregnancy test?”

I shook my head. “There’s one left from when Scott came back a couple years ago before he moved to Canada. When I moved here, I just brought it along with me because I didn’t know what else to do with it. It’s under my bathroom sink, I think.”

Tom held a hand out imperiously and pointed toward the stairs that led to my private entrance. “First, you’re going to run along and take the test while I finish cleaning up down here. There’s no point in any further discussion until we know what we’re dealing with, m’kay? Now go on, Papa Tom has this in hand.”

When my stomach lurched again, I didn’t bother to argue as I ran for the stairway door. “Since I know better than to ask if you’re planning to come up, I’ll just leave the door unlocked.”

“Smart cookie,” Tom called out behind me as I wrested open the door and raced up the stairs. “See you soonish!”

When he found me half an hour later, I was sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet and staring at the pregnancy test in my hand. Tom stood in the doorway, shaking his head and laughing. “I don’t even have to look at that piss stick to know that it’s positive. Honey, I have been where you are sitting, let me tell you. Now, is there a reason we’re still hugging the porcelain god or can we maybe move to a more comfortable seating area?”

I shook my head and pushed up onto my knees, barely making it over the opening before I began throwing up again.

“That answers that,” Tom chirped as he turned on the sink and began to fuss with something while I threw up. “Here, lay this over your neck. It sounds weird, but the damp, cool cloth will help settle your stomach or confuse your nerves, whatever. I don’t know what it does, but it helps. Meanwhile, I’m gonna go poke around your kitchen and see about finding you something to put in your stomach.”

At the mention of food, I began puking all over again. I wasn’t positive, but I could’ve sworn I heard giggling from somewhere nearby.