She jumped on him. He crushed her body to his and spun around, kissing her hair, her cheek, her neck, while Gail kept repeating, “I missed you so much. I missed you so much…” The feel of his stubble on her skin made her cry. She was with him. Finally.
Jesse let her slide down the front of his body until her sandaled feet returned to the floor. He grabbed her face in his hands and studied her.
“You’re real.”
Gail laughed. “Of course I am.”
When the tears began to form in Jesse’s blue eyes, she felt a tidal wave of tenderness and love for him. It had been a rough go, but he was sure about her and she was sure about him. There were no more doubts. Now, all their focus was on the future.
Their plan was for Gail to spend a month in Key West, while Holly stayed with Hannah’s family and got ready for school. Then Jesse would return with her to Pennsylvania, where they’d all spend the autumn together. Beyond that, who knew? Gail was even looking into positions at the community college in Key West. Jesse was willing to live part of the year in Beaverdale. Anything could happen. Everything was possible.
He kissed her quickly then retrieved her bag and the bouquet from the tile floor, where they’d been tossed in the heat of the moment. Jesse slid his arm around Gail’s waist as they walked to baggage claim.
“Holly sends her love,” Gail said, looking up at him.
Jesse laughed. “Tell me about it. She’s been texting me all day, warning me to be on my best behavior.”
“No!” Gail said, surprised. “What did she say?”
“Well, I believe her exact words were—” Jesse pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked to his messages—“Try not to be such an asshat this time.”
Gail gasped. “I don’t even know what that means!”
Jesse laughed as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I get the general drift.”
“She thinks you’re great, you know,” Gail said, grinning at him. “She told all her friends that I’m dating a famous writer.”
“A famous asshat,” he said, and they both laughed.
After they waited for her luggage, they walked out to the parking lot together. Gail felt the heat slam into her.
“It’s so good to be back!” she said, stretching her arms out in the humid air.
“Have you thought about what you’d like to do while you’re visiting Key West?” Jesse’s eyes were full of humor as he tossed her suitcase into the trunk of his car.
“Of course. I made a list,” Gail answered.
“Is it a long list?”
“Very. An entire month’s worth of activities.”
Jesse came toward her, his grin getting bigger as the distance between them disappeared. He nudged her until her butt hit the side of the car then pressed his hard and strong body against hers.
“Do we have to do them in any particular order?” he asked.
“That won’t be a concern.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
Gail gazed up into his dark blue eyes, wagging her eyebrow teasingly. “Because there’s only one item on my list, but I want to do it over and over again.”
Jesse laughed, moving in for the kiss. “I’m sure that can be arranged, my wild one.”
Victoria Dahl
JUST ONE TASTE
This story is for Tara. Thanks for bringing me back to Boulder.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Colorado! The first time I saw Boulder I couldn’t believe it was a real place. For a girl who grew up on the plains, Boulder looked like a magical town plucked from a television show. (Specifically, Mork & Mindy. It was set here.) But the real town is even better than anything you’d see on film. Boulder is a stunningly beautiful place. There are mountain peaks, aspen groves, ice-cold creeks and gorgeous neighborhoods. And there are the people of Boulder, who are smart and creative and take pride in being a local.
I hope they don’t mind that I’ve added a few more locals to the mix with the Donovan family. This family of three siblings runs Donovan Brothers Brewery right in the heart of Boulder. Tessa is the youngest of the family and the only sister, but she keeps her brothers wrapped around her little finger…while she keeps them in the dark about her extracurricular life. Jamie runs the front room at the brewery with ruthless charm and a devastating smile, though he can’t manage to get control of his love life. And then there’s the oldest brother, Eric…
Eric Donovan took charge of the family and the brewery at the age of twenty-three, and he doesn’t have a rebellious bone in his body. He’s the soul of responsibility…until the night he meets Beth Cantrell in a hotel hallway and decides there’s something to be said for an occasional walk on the wild side. Even the most straitlaced guy needs to loosen up once in a while, and Beth is a woman experienced in small-town discretion.
I hope you come to love Boulder and the Donovan family as much as I do. Happy reading! And I’ll see you back in Boulder soon!
All my best,
Chapter one
ERIC DONOVAN DIDN’T often fantasize about strangling his younger brother. But this time, Jamie had outdone himself, and Eric was glad his brother wasn’t within arm’s reach.
The roar of the convention hall assaulted Eric’s ears, the noise ratcheting his tension to a whole new level as he handed out samples of Donovan Brothers beer to the crowds. Their booth was one of the most popular at the Boulder Business Expo, which was exactly why Jamie was supposed to be handling beer duty. Jamie was the face of Donovan Brothers, after all. Eric worked behind the scenes.
When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he shoved the tray of Flatiron Amber Ale toward the reaching hands and watched half the miniglasses disappear into the feeding frenzy.
“Well?” he snapped into the phone.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said. “I can’t track him down. I’m going to have to stay at the brewery to cover his shift.”
“Shit,” Eric growled, closing his eyes in an attempt to focus his thoughts. “Jamie, this is…less than ideal.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“I warned you that it’s never a good idea to hire a friend. And that goes doubly for you and the kind of slackers you hang around with. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“I sent Henry over. He’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Henry is a dishwasher!”
“He can hand out samples as well as anyone else.”
Eric wiped a hand over his face and shook his head. “All right. I’ll handle it.” As usual.
“I’ll try to get—”
“Yeah, we’ll talk later.” The samples of ale were already gone. Eric snapped the phone shut and rushed to play bartender, checking the faces again to be sure they were all middle-aged. No problem there. The expo wasn’t exactly bubbling with teenagers.
Eric didn’t have his brother’s charm or easy way, but he could at least draw a few samples and get them out to the crowds. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hand out samples and strike a new distribution deal at the same time. Given the choice, he would’ve pulled out of this local conference altogether rather than miss the chance to negotiate with the owner of High West Air.
The airline was based in Denver and designed to compete with the newer, high-quality airlines. High West offered more legroom, no luggage fees and warm brownies on every flight. And Eric was this close to closing a deal to make Donovan Bothers Brewery the only beer on the menu. High West wanted something hipper than a big name brand, and Eric was determined to fill that need. It was a perfect partnership, but the owner of the airline was an arrogant pain in the ass and took pride in never being available for a meeting.
This time, Eric had him cornered. Roland Ken dall was at the expo, and Eric was going to nail him down.
Fifteen minutes later, he saw Henry hurrying toward the booth, and he felt his blood pressure drop a notch or two. This day could still be salvaged from the ruins, regardless of Jamie’s screwup. Henry, thankfully, had been outfitted in a brand-new Donovan Brothers polo shirt, so he looked almost like an actual bartender. He also looked closer to seventeen than twenty-one, so Eric could only pray the kid had brought his ID in case the authorities stopped by.
“Mr. Donovan,” he panted. “Jamie said—”
“Can you draw a beer?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, keep the samples going out. Be polite. Smile. Ask for ID if anyone looks under thirty-five. And direct any questions to me. All right?”
“Sure. No problem.”
Keeping one eye on Henry to be sure he could handle the task, Eric pulled out his phone and placed a call to Roland Kendall. “Yeah?” a harsh voice answered.
“Mr. Kendall, this is Eric Donovan. I’m hoping to take you to lunch today.”
The man grunted in response. He was a grouch, no question about it, and he loved being the one with the upper hand. “I can’t do lunch,” he barked. “I’m getting together with a supplier.” A real supplier, he meant. Eric ground his teeth together, hard. He’d been working this bastard for six months. “Dinner then?”
“Not tonight.”
He tempered his voice, hoping to hide his frustration. “How about tomorrow? Mr. Kendall, you know how determined I am to secure this contract. Give me one chance to tell you what we have to offer.”
Another grunt. Eric rolled his eyes.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Kendall said just before the line went dead.
Christ, this guy was killing him. The bastard clearly wanted Eric to do a little more begging. Fine. He was strong enough to handle that if it meant taking the brewery to the next level. Getting his beer into the hands of national travelers would create new demand for the product. And new demand meant new territory.
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