1. Cole

Chapter 1

Cole

R eturning to Boulder so soon was a bad idea.

Seeing it from above the breaking clouds had never before caused so much anxiety. The fields my friends and I used to explore, the restaurants I used to frequent, the cars, the people, they all looked like ants from the jet's window. I wondered how much of a difference my disappearance would cause, how many people I'd inevitably hurt.

White fluff shielded my view as the plane split a cloud in two. We had reached our main altitude and I sat back in my seat, looking away from the window, staring instead at the rattling cup of water on the table in front of me. Turbulence never bothered me before, but this time it was making my nerves fray.

The movie that had been playing on the widescreen television ended and another had started, one I didn't recognize. I stared at the screen as a distraction, hoping the unfamiliar faces would be enough to keep my mind off of the upcoming rocky descent.

————

"Ah, man, you look so good."

Grayson's hand clapped hard against my shoulder as he pulled me in for a hug on the tarmac. Six months was long enough for me to almost forget the way his voice sounded—deep and gruff ever since it dropped when we were about fifteen. "I do?" I chuckled, surprised. A few hours on a plane usually only made me look worse.

How bad did I look when I'd left, then?

"Yeah, Cole. You look… healthier."

I watched the back of Grayson's black mop of hair as he led me toward the car. He'd upgraded since I last saw him; the entirety of the hood of his new Porsche was covered in a black buffalo outlined in gold, the letters CU overlapped in the center. I guess he was taking his mentorship of Boulder's football team at the University of Colorado more seriously now.

"Dinner?" Gray asked as I slid into the passenger seat beside him, the sun hanging low just above the peaks that skirted the edge of Boulder. I'd missed sunsets like that. "A great new grill just opened up. We could get some ribs, watch the football?—"

The car roared to life. "I'd rather head to the brewery, if that's okay," I politely cut him off.

Cole turned to me as he shifted into drive, his foot on the brake. "You want to go to the brewery?" he asked, speaking each word with a heavy pause.

"I can't avoid it forever, Gray."

"You just got back. Surely throwing yourself into that environment isn't?—"

"It's my business. I need to see how it's doing." I sighed, and slowly, gently, he let off the brake. "I haven't heard a single thing about it since I left. I need to make sure the place is still standing and hasn't burned down in my absence."

He watched me for a few seconds more before the car slowly started to drift forward, a heavy silence falling between us. I knew he was worried about me—knew he had been for a while—but I couldn't avoid my business any longer. I already had for six months. The time I'd been gone only caused the worry to grow that much more with every second I wasn't there.

"You've missed a lot while you were gone," he said, his voice low. If he thought I wouldn't catch the subliminal meaning behind those words, he was wrong.

"With you or with everything?"

Grayson chuckled. We turned onto Valmont Road, leaving the municipal airport behind us. "Both. But mostly me."

Either the newly-opened grill he spoke about was in the same direction as my brewery or he was giving me what I wanted. He's always been a better friend than me.

"I ditched Amy about a week after you left," he said, the engine revving with power as his speed picked up. "Weird girl but damn do I miss fucking her sometimes."

I snorted. "She seemed nice, though."

"She kept insisting I help her meet famous people at the matches, as if I would do that for her even if I could," Gray laughed. "But at least Penny's happy about it. She hated Amy."

Penelope, his daughter, was almost nine and somewhat able to understand her father's actions. I wasn't surprised she was becoming vocal about the women he brought around. "You're lucky Halsey hasn't chewed you out for having your flings around her."

Grayson shrugged. "Halsey's going through her own quarter-life crisis or whatever you want to call it."

"Don't think you can call it a quarter-life crisis when she's the same age as us."

"Yeah, well, thirty-four isn't exactly in mid-life-crisis territory." Every turn Gray took drove us closer and closer to the brewery. The tips of my fingers began to buzz, anxiety creeping its way through my bones. "If my ex-wife has an opinion about who I date, she can keep it to herself."

I wasn't going to tell my best friend how to parent his child, even if it didn't sit completely right with me that he was bringing his flings around her. I would keep my mouth shut for now. Hell, I'd been keeping it shut for the last six months.

The two-story, red brick building came into view as the car slowed. He parallel-parked in the spot meant for me, letting out a long slow breath as he turned off the engine. "Are you sure you want to do this, man? You literally just got home."

"I'll be fine."

"You're supposed to be taking it easy for a few days," he sighed. "They emailed me a pamphlet and?—"

"Look, man, I… I know. But I also know what's best for myself and being alone in my house for a few days is only going to drive me insane. It's better for me to keep busy, to show my face around the brewery and squash any rumors that might have popped up about why I was gone."

"Are they really rumors if they're true?"

I shot Grayson a glare sharp enough to cut bone.

The smell of boiling wort hit me the moment I opened my door. Releasing a chocolate-like aroma, it poured out of the metal vents on the side of the massive complex. Soon the hops would go in, and it would transform into something different, something deeper. The scent of it all was what had drawn me to brewing in the first place.

Grayson followed me inside in silence, his hands fisted in the pockets of his hoodie. For a Thursday night, the on-site bar was packed, music pumping from the speakers, a college basketball game playing on the wall-mounted TVs throughout the space. The scent of spilled beer almost masked the boiling wort and made my spine stiffen.

"Mr. Pearson?"

Wide eyes met mine as I turned my head toward the waitress carrying a tray of our signature pale ale. Long blonde hair flowed over her right shoulder, frighteningly close to the tops of the glasses. Apparently no one had been enforcing the rule that servers with long hair needed to wear it up.

"Hey, Candace," I said, forcing a small smile.

She blinked at me a few times before plastering her signature customer service smile back on her face and passing out the beers on her tray to a rowdy group. She hurried back over to me the second she'd finished, her smile faltering. "Are you… are you back? Or just stopping in?"

"Both," I grinned. "Is Ben here?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah he is." Her eyes darted to the bar where a couple of men leaned over the counter, clearly waiting for service. "I'll grab him."

She disappeared before I could direct her toward the bar instead, her blonde waves bouncing behind her back as she slinked through the swinging black door.

"She seems surprised to see you," Gray said, his eyes wandering about the bar.

"Well, I did disappear without saying a word to anyone but Benjamin, the guy I left in charge." I sighed.

My gaze caught on the stacked barrels along the far right wall. Definitely a new addition to the bar portion of our campus, and as I stepped closer, I couldn't help but notice the faintest sheen of dust covering them. Pressing my finger against the wood, I dragged it down, watching the barely-there line form in its wake.

When was the last time the staff cleaned?

I made a mental note to bring down the hammer on cleanliness tomorrow morning. My inner perfectionist wouldn't be able to handle these imperfections for very long.

The more I looked around, the worse it got. Stray bottle caps on the floor behind the bar and under tables, a handful of tears in the leather-bound seats, a small crust forming under the beer taps. All of these things meant little on their own but together, downgraded the entire establishment. If they weren't addressed, small problems would build into big problems.

My feet itched to walk the length of the campus to the restaurant on the other side and inspect that as well. Doing so would allow me the chance to check out the brewery and ensure all of it was up to code. Despite my six-month absence, my focus would be entirely on this come tomorrow. I only hoped my concerns would dwindle and not grow as I continued on my walk-through.

"Cole!"

The black door swung both ways as Ben burst through it, walking toward me, his best black button-up tucked into his trousers. His long, wiry brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, and as Candace stepped back through the door, I noticed she'd tied hers up as well.

Convenient.

"Hey, man," I grinned, holding out my hand in offer toward Ben. Gray looked on from the sidelines, his gaze bouncing between us and the bar. I wondered if he was fighting the urge to grab a drink.

"Good to see you." Ben grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake, a bit stiff in the wrist. "I was wondering when you'd be back."

"Now," I chuckled. "Flight landed about thirty minutes ago."

Ben's mouth tightened briefly before a smile returned to his lips. He was technically my acting CEO while I was away, and although I didn't intend to rip that title away from him entirely, he'd be losing control of the business with my return. I knew he wouldn't be happy about that, but it was unavoidable. Besides, he knew he was only filling in and that his role as CEO was temporary.

"I appreciate you looking after the business while I was gone," I continued. "But I'll be taking over from here."

Benjamin cleared his throat. "Of course," he said.

"Could you get the team together in the back? Whoever is here. I'd like to speak to them."

"Cole," Gray hissed. "We were just supposed to pop in."

I shrugged. "I've changed my mind."

"This isn't good for you?—"

I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. I didn't need any more fuel igniting the fire of rumors.

"Fine. Whatever."

Ben glanced between us, his brows raising slightly. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Great," I grinned. I watched as he turned, his fingers forming into a fist as he headed back toward the swinging door.

————

Thirty minutes later, I stood with my arms crossed in front of a group of about fifty people, the scent of boiling wort long gone, the smell of hops surrounding us. I could see the evidence of stains on the floor from spilled beer and yeast, could smell a tang in the air from uncleaned metal. My jaw stiffened.

Whispers made the already noisy room come to life in the most uncomfortable way. I knew exactly what they were talking about. I fumbled with the medallion in my pocket to keep my mind calm.

"Thank you all for coming down on such short notice or staying past your shift," I said. I scanned the crowd, taking in familiar faces as well as new ones. "I appreciate you all for stepping up while I was away. I know it's not easy when management makes a sudden shift."

In all honesty, I felt nervous speaking to them. Having a group of people standing in front of you, several of whom likely knew exactly why you were gone, was nerve-wracking to say the least, especially when you were out of practice of being in charge. But I did everything in my power to not convey that nervousness. I wasn't even sure if this was a good idea, but the more I spoke, the calmer I felt. I was home. Things could go back to normal, for the most part.

I was the boss. The brewery belonged to me. I had started the company and was single handedly responsible for making it the best brewery and most loved beer in the state. I was Cole Pearson of CP Beers and this was my rightful place.

"Benjamin has done an incredible job leading you all for the last six months. But I intend to fully return to my position tomorrow morning," I continued, my voice strong. "I ensure we'll make this as smooth of a transition as we can. Smoother than when I left?—"

A flash of familiar brown wavy locks ensnared my vision.

My head whipped to the side and I watched as the woman silently pushed her way through the crowd, her face hidden, her body language stiff.

Every ounce of confidence I'd built came to a screeching halt.

She glanced in my direction.

Those bright hazel eyes locked on mine.

Dana .

What the fuck was she doing here? Last I'd heard, she was working for Lottie and Hunter Harris on their horse ranch. When the hell did she make the jump into brewing?

The uniform that clung to her form told me she'd been hired on as a tour guide. It must have been while I was gone; I would have noticed her file on my desk, would've ensured that I was the one to conduct her interview. But I didn't get the chance to do that, and here she stood, her face paling the longer she looked at me.

She was just as shocked to see me as I was to see her.

The collar of her shirt rested against her neck, the fabric hugging her breasts, her nipples just barely poking through making them that much more appealing. Her high-waisted slacks cinched in her waist, and I could just barely make out the outline of her hips. She was curvier than I remember but that made her all the more attractive.

I already knew what she looked like underneath her clothes.

I knew how she felt.

How warm she was.

How good she tasted.

I needed to stop myself. I couldn't go down that road, couldn't keep looking at her, drinking her in. If I did, everything I'd worked so hard on would start to unravel.

Everything about her was intoxicating, and the more I fingered the medallion, the more I worried she was as bad for me as what it symbolized.

Her breath caught as I turned away from her, addressing the group once again. I tried not to let her presence get to me, tried to pelt out my voice as I had before I had seen her.

Today I had returned to Boulder, to restart my life, finding strength in the support of my best friend, in the company of my employees, within the walls of this building that signified my triumphs and my successes.

But now, my fragile confidence was turning to shit.

Because that woman symbolized everything that I had destroyed in my life, my weaknesses and my failures.

And now I was face to face with the mammoth endeavor of making things right.

Even if she didn't want anything to do with me, I still had to find the strength to try.