Essence of Time by Liz Crowe Page B

way she squared her shoulders made Blake’s heart clench for some reason. He had no explanation, but an absolute need to help her roared through him. How he knew she required his help was also a mystery, but his entire body buzzed to be near her, to comfort, and to touch.
     When she leaned over to adjust her shoe, he had entirely different physical reaction. He groaned to himself and took another step back between the boxes willing his cock down.  He concentrated on calculating the specific gravity of his first batch of Big House Brewing lager and tried to get himself under control. By the time he stepped back out, sweat still beaded his face, and he nearly plowed right into her turning the corner.
    “Whoa there handsome. Watch where you’re going.” Her voice was soft, but firm. He gripped her arm, then let go, embarrassed by his need to touch her.
    Blake was no fool nor was he blind to the gigantic diamond on her left ring finger. He straightened up, and grinned, pulling off his baseball cap and running a hand through his close-cropped hair.  She stepped back, crossed her arms and cocked her hip shooting him a completely unreadable look.
    “Damn you really are cute. Gonna get interesting around here. Gotta dash, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning, seven a.m. First official sales meeting with our new brewer. Eat your Wheaties, big boy.” He stared as she turned on one high heel and departed.  A knee jerk combination of anger, pride and raw lust made him shiver. He worked until past nine p.m. emerging into the Tap Room to meet the staff and have a few beers before heading home.
      
    ****
     
    Within weeks Blake realized something. Suzanne was indeed making his new life as head brewer for Big House a living hell. Mainly it was because her sales team was fantastic at their jobs, but also because she was so infernally bossy. He spent the small percentage of time he wasn't fantasizing about fisting his hands in her long red hair and kissing her smart god damned mouth so hard she’d whimper, utterly furious at her. It made for interesting times indeed, just as she had predicted.  One thing he’d come to learn about Suzanne, she loved being right.
    His sister had teased him relentlessly. “Oh, it’s cute. You’re like in middle school with a crush on the teacher.”
    “Shut it,” he’d glared at her over wine one night on her small back porch. Sara had saved him when he’d returned to Ann Arbor with nothing but the clothes on his back and a degree worth nothing, at least according to their father. He probably could have saved the “oh by the way Dad I’m bi-sexual” convo for a different moment but had taken a perverse pleasure in the way Matthew Thornton’s face had reddened so alarmingly that his mother had made him leave the house.  He had moved into Sara’s small condo and taken over the second bedroom with promises of moving out as soon as he had about six months' worth of salary in the bank.
    She had just quit her stable and lucrative job with a major pharmaceutical company to take up life selling houses at one hundred percent commission. Luckily, she had been their father’s perfect, do-no-wrong daughter, so he’d bankrolled her for a while until her new career had shot into the stratosphere like everything she ever did. It made Blake’s teeth ache with frustration, but since he’d been Sara’s champion and defender her whole life it also on some bizarre level, soothed him. The conversation they’d had the night before ghosted through his head.
    “He’d help, you know, if you would ask him.” She defended their indefensible father.
    “Not fucking likely,” had been his answer. “You do know ‘real estate agent’ ranks just below ‘used car salesman’ and barely above ‘lawyer.’  Why in the hell would you do it? You made great money selling drugs.”
    She’d shrugged. “I wanted to stay close to home. I hated all the stupid travel with the drug thing. Besides, I call my own