7. Angie

7

ANGIE

I f I stayed on his lap, I'd be warm.

However, if I remained on his lap, I had a feeling I'd continue to grope his chest—which I was doing right now—and before I knew it, I'd be riding him once more like he was a bucking steer at a fair and I was the best bull rider in the county.

"Maybe that didn't happen," I said.

"I think it did." He glanced down.

"Shit, that's a lot of cum." I slapped my hand over my mouth that had unhinged when I saw the huge wet spot on the front of his pants.

"Gargoyles produce more than almost any other species."

"You need an umbrella for that."

Frowning, he tilted his head, his gaze locking on mine. "Does it bother you that I produce a lot of cum?"

"Do they make condoms big enough for a gargoyle's cock, let alone big enough to collect all that cum?"

"They're trying. "

"Any success?"

"We're vigorous. What they've produced thus far hasn't held up under testing."

Oh, jeez. "Then we'll need to be careful."

"No younglings."

"Assuming it's even genetically possible—"

"It is."

"How do you know that?"

"I read about it online."

I needed to look that up. I bet gargoyle-human babies were super cute, but that didn't mean I was eager to start producing them. "Keep your spermies to yourself."

"Will do."

I sighed and peered around. "Should we try banging on the door again?"

"Is there a chance someone is still inside the microbrewery and will hear?"

"Not unless whoever took my kegs full of stout has come back to steal something else." I huffed. "Do you think the thief is a competitor?"

"Perhaps. I'll investigate everyone who's entered the contest."

"That's a long list."

"How many?"

"Forty-two, and that's only a fraction of the number of microbreweries in Massachusetts. Anyone within the state can enter, and lots of microbrews have sprung up over the past few years. Craft beer is super popular. Some brewmasters have opened their own businesses and people who've made homebrew for years have jumped into the pool to offer their own special mixes. "

"Can you think of anyone who might be suspicious on the list?"

I thought about it for a minute. "We had a few competitors who might've been eager to beat me in the brew-off but they both quit the business over the past year. Many open and fold as quickly, just barely getting by until one bad batch or a negative swing in popularity makes them fold. It takes long days and a lot of sacrifices to make this type of business a success. I'm fortunate that my uncle not only owned the Beer Co. free and clear, but he also inherited the property from his parents. He set up the microbrewery here twenty years before he died."

"I'm surprised he didn't put the tasting room on the ocean side rather than in the back of the building."

"That's my future plan. I'd hoped, if I won and gained some recognition, I could expand the business. The planning board has given me a nod of approval to add to the front once I secure the funding."

"They aren't worried about construction that close to the water?"

"We're far enough back, and with the street between us and the beach, plus the greenery we've planted out front, they see us as an asset to this small town rather than an eyesore. They were all over the idea when I brought it up. In my expansion plan, I included a huge, second story deck on the front, above the tasting room. I can picture more shrubs in planters on the outside of the deck, just enough to make it look pretty but not so many that it blocks the view. A few food truck owners have contacted me about setting up to provide pizza and other snack items that go well with beer. "

"This sounds amazing."

"This business is sound. My uncle made sure of it, and I've done my best to be frugal to keep it running well. My expansion is a huge project, but it'll be good for business and good for this town as well. I'll need funding to make it happen."

"I'm sure the bank will approve."

"We'll see. The first thing I need to do is get that beer back and win the contest."

"Can you make a new batch?"

"I only have a week. That's not enough time. Stout production is a delicate process. It took me many tries before I perfected my recipe, especially when adding chili pepper. I wanted a subtle bite in the back of the throat, yet not too strong to overwhelm the palate. The stolen batch was my twelfth try."

"You still have the final recipe."

"Of course, and if the beer did well in the contest, I intended to make that the first new brew I'd introduce after the expansion. Right now, we make a nice pilsner, two different IPAs, a wheat, plus we rotate through some specialty seasonal beers. Stouts are dark, and they take a different kind of production."

"We're going to get your beer back in time for the contest." He shot me a grin. "And you're going to win."

I snorted, loving that he had that much confidence in my beer and in his investigative abilities. "Maybe my beer sucks."

He leaned over to kiss my neck. "Nothing you do sucks, Angie. Nothing ."