You're Still the One by Darcy Burke Page B

was at least more open to a closer relationship, not that she ought to pursue that with her ex’s family.
    Bex hefted the bag of barley to carry it to the mash tun. It was heavy and bulky, and she adjusted her hold to lift it higher. But it was too much and she dropped it, splitting the bag so that barley scattered all over the floor.
    She put her hands on her hips and stared at the mess all over her gorgeous brewery floor. “Hell’s bells.”
    Laughter reached her ears, and she recognized it immediately. She mock-glared at him over the mash tun. “Hayden, are you laughing at me?”
    He walked toward her, his expression amused. “You still say that.”
    She was momentarily confused then realized what he meant. Hell’s bells. She’d said it her whole life. She’d heard it somewhere and decided to try it out at school one day. Her kindergarten teacher hadn’t been impressed, but when she’d called Bex’s parents to inform them of their daughter’s misconduct, they’d found it cute. From then on, she’d had permission to say pretty much anything she wanted at home. It was one of the many ways in which they’d allowed Bex to steer her own ship.
    â€œOf course I do. It’s my signature phrase.”
    He chuckled and looked around at the barley littering the floor. “What happened here?”
    â€œI’m trying a new decorative scheme. You don’t like it?”
    He laughed again. “No, it’s great. But since you’re making beer, you should add some hops.”
    She couldn’t keep from smiling anymore. “Good idea.”
    His eyes glinted with humor as he looked at her. “You want some help cleaning this up?”
    â€œSure, but I don’t want to interrupt whatever you’re doing.”
    â€œYou’re not interrupting anything. I was just helping Kyle with the wine cellar. The sommelier he hired decided to take a different job, so Kyle’s scrambling.”
    That must’ve been the reason for Kyle’s yelling that morning. The door to the corridor leading to the kitchen had been open, and she’d heard him swearing. “Good thing you’re here—at least for a while.” She went to the corner and took a broom from a hook then handed it to him.
    He started sweeping. “Yeah, it feels good to be needed.”
    Did he not feel needed? She knew he often felt like the odd man out in his crazy family. He’d opened up to her about it on several occasions, but it always seemed as if he held something back. Every time, he’d ended the conversation saying he was just being oversensitive or that it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Looking back, she probably should’ve pressed him about it, but she’d been the last person who would’ve asked for more details, especially of the emotional variety.
    Bex grabbed a second broom. “You kept the home fires burning for years while they were all gone. Of course they need you.”
    He moved around the mash tun as he swept. “Eh, I don’t know. When I left for France, they managed to make do.”
    She didn’t quite believe him. “Wait, Kyle took over for you as COO. He can’t have just stepped into that job.”
    â€œHe had to, but yeah, I gave him a long-distance hand.”
    Bex concentrated on sweeping the outliers toward Hayden’s pile. “Sounds like you were needed to me.”
    â€œI was, but he picked things up pretty quickly. I’ve just missed being a part of The Alex.” He paused to look at her. “But I knew moving to France would take me out of it. I can’t regret that decision.” He went back to sweeping.
    She wanted to say something about not having regrets and about making tough decisions, but knew it would sound like she was justifying why she’d left five years ago. Best to leave that alone. “No regrets is a good policy.”
    He cast her a quick