Excerpt from Ale’s Fair in Love and War

Hollis Hayes is the worst neighbor in the entire history of neighbors.

She's also the hottest.

F.M.L.

I don't have time to fight with the dog groomer next door. There's a brewery to run, siblings to rein in, and a mom to look after. So if Hollis thinks I'll roll over and let her drive me out of business, she's not nearly as smart as she thinks she is.

Sure, I enjoy the little pranks we play on each other, and I don't hate watching her prance around in those tight leggings. But she's gone too far this time, even if she pretends to know nothing about it.

I'll do whatever it takes to save my business from going under, and if that means playing dirty with the girl I love to hate, game on.

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CHAPTER ONE

VIRGIN SAYS WHAT?

CASH

"Blue Bigfoot Beer," I bark into the phone, tucking the receiver between my shoulder and ear. The customer across from me holds out his hand as I count his change from the drawer.

A breathy voice on the other end of the line has my hand freezing in midair.

"Is this Cash?" she purrs.

Hmm. Seems like my day might be about to turn around.

I drop the change into the customer's palm and toss him a chin lift.

"That's me. What can I do for you?" I have a few ideas if the voice matches the body.

She lets out a little giggle that has my dick twitching in my jeans. "I'm calling about your virginity."

My hearing must be going because it sounded like she just said I'm a virgin.

Turning away from the prying eyes of my brother a few feet down the bar, I take the receiver in hand and press it firmly to my ear this time. "Sorry, come again?"

"Your virginity," she repeats, her voice still filled with sex but carrying a tinge of amusement now. "I'm interested in relieving you of it."

I squint at my reflection in the mirror of the back bar, wondering if I always look this tired and trying to figure out which of my three brothers is fucking with me. I settle on Denver because that asshole has been way too jolly since he talked his girlfriend into moving in with him.

"Very funny, Rosie. Tell Denny I'm gonna kick his ass next time I see him." The phone drops back in its cradle with a heavy clang. I don't have time for jokes today. There's a brewery to run, a taproom to serve, a newbie to train, and a pale ale release tomorrow that I haven't promoted nearly enough.

I glance down the bar just in time to see Miller, my youngest brother, slosh water all over the floor mats as he drops a bus tub in the sink. The towel I throw hits him square in the face. "You trying to create a hazard, or does it just come naturally?"

He sends a glare over his shoulder, a new eyebrow piercing glinting at me as I brush past him to serve another customer. It's a regular named Smitty, so there's no need to ask for his order. I press a pint glass onto the glass rinser, then pull back the tap on Squatch This, a golden wheat with a crisp finish. It's one of our most popular beers.

The phone rings again, and I'm somewhat encouraged to see Miller answer it without any prompting while I get a card to start Smitty's tab.

"It's for you." My little brother thrusts the phone in my direction.

I gesture for him to make the rounds of the taproom as I grab the receiver. If I've got to work with him, I'm at least gonna train him right. Family can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

"This is Cash."

"Oh, uh, hey." The masculine voice on the other end stumbles. I'd half expected it to be Denny cackling at his own stupid joke, but this voice doesn't belong to anyone I know. I wait another second for him to speak, but time is money.

"Who is this?" I demand, knowing I'm taking my busy day out on a stranger and hearing my mama's voice in my head urging me to be patient. It's never been my strong suit.

"Tom."

I rack my brain looking for any trace of a Tom but can't recall a soul apart from the guy who runs the smoke shop a couple spaces down. This is not that Tom, and I know this because that Tom is always high as an eagle's nuts and only refers to me as "Cool Money."

"Do I know you?" I glance out into the taproom to see Miller parked on his ass at a four-top of attractive brunettes. That little…

"Uh, no," Tom mutters.

Jesus, get to the point. "What can I do for you, Tom?" I repeat, impatience bleeding through.

"I was, uh, hoping I could do something for you."

For the love of Larry.

My eyelids drop closed as I brace a hip against the back bar. "Oh yeah? What exactly can you do for me, Tom?"

"Pop your cherry?"

When the receiver hits the phone's base this time, the clattering echoes through the entire taproom.

Someone is definitely fucking with me.

And I'm pretty sure I know who.

Recognizing the look on my face and the mood it signifies, Miller hauls ass back behind the bar, hiking his jeans up his hips as he goes. My little brother's contempt for belts is one of life's greater mysteries.

I take my agitation out on Larry, the Bigfoot statue that stands beside my register and watches over the patrons, scrubbing at some beer residue on its base with my towel. The ring of the phone has my molars gnashing, and I leave the receiver right where it is.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" Miller asks.

"Don't touch it!" I throw the towel onto my shoulder and stalk down the hall to the office.

If she wants to start something, I'll only bite back harder. My eyes narrow to slits as I attempt to bore a hole through the wall separating my brewery from the neighboring pet groomer.

Happy Tails Salon. The name is just as sickly sweet as her fake-ass smiles and fluttering eyelashes behind those misleadingly innocent glasses.

Miller's disembodied voice breaks through the speaker of the desk phone. "It's Mama, jackass. Line two."

Well, shit.

"Hey, Mama." I do my best to brush off my irritation. She doesn't need to know about any of my frustrations.

"Hello, darlin'. How are you?" Her concerned tone has me instantly wary. My eyes dart around the office, but I haven't one damn clue what I'm expecting to find.

"I'm great. How are you? Did you find Mango?" Mango is the love of her life, and everyone knows it.

She clucks her tongue. "You know, he showed up in the kitchen a few minutes after you left. I don't know what he got himself into, but he's here now, safe and sound. Aren't you, my little sweetheart?" she coos at the mongrel, and I realize I'm just being paranoid.

"That's good to hear." I glance at my watch. "Hey, aren't you late for work?" It's already halfway through the afternoon and I haven't gotten shit done.

"I'm leaving in a few. We're doing pizza and movie night," she replies. She works at the senior center coordinating activities and generally causing trouble. "I just wanted to call about your problem."

My butt drops into the desk chair, and I smile into the phone. "I wouldn't say he's my problem. I like to think of Miller as all of our problem."

"Oh hush, you. I'm not talkin' about your brother—although I am so glad you took my suggestion and hired him."

Took her suggestion? More like folded to her edict. Hiring Miller was not my idea at all, but the asshat crashed his bike and got fired from yet another job, so my hands were tied. Blue Bigfoot Beer is a family venture in many ways, but my oldest brother, Carter, and I are the only ones left holding the bag at the end of the day.

"Yeah, well." There wasn't much more to say than that. Mama always did teach us if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all. "So, what problem are you talking about?"

"Your virginity, darlin'."

Fuck. My. Life.

Twenty minutes later, I'm staring at a Craigslist ad on my laptop that has both my name and Blue Bigfoot's phone number on it.

"Looking for someone gentle to break my guymen. I just haven't met the right person, and it's become a burden. Please be kind because I'm hideously ugly."

"Dude, there are easier ways."

Miller's voice sends me jumping. The bastard is leaning over my shoulder reading the screen and breathing his nicotine dragon breath in my face. I give him a good shove.

"Fuck off. I didn't post this," I grunt. "And who's manning the bar?"

Hitching his jeans up again, he snickers, enjoying this way more than I'd like. "Relax. Oscar's got it covered."

I only glare in response. There's no way I'm telling him that Mama just offered the services of her buddy Regina to help me out with my so-called problem. The same Regina who runs an escort service catering to Asheville's elite and hard-up.

Of which I'm neither, thank you very much.

"Any idea who did it?" Miller flicks his tongue ring against his teeth, sending my already raw nerve endings buzzing.

There's only one person on this earth who can get this far under my skin and make me take my eye off the ball like this.

I grit my teeth around my growl of an answer. "Hollis."

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