Feisty Red (Three Chicks Brewery #2) - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,37

She couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. “So, they just closed for the night?” she asked, trying to understand.

Sullivan shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a sheepish smile. “Well, after I agreed to do a commercial for them.”

Time stopped then, and Clara only saw Sullivan there. Raw, trying so damn hard to do right by her.

“Wow,” Maisie said after a long moment of silence. “This is…well, totally amazing, Sullivan.” She closed the distance and gave him a hug.

Followed up by Amelia. When she stepped back, she added, “The exposure this gives us, it’s unbelievable. Thank you so much.”

Sullivan smiled like this was everyday business. “You’re welcome.”

But this wasn’t everyday business for Clara. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not when he watched her with such adoration. Because she knew the truth. He had done this for her. To show her he was all in with making her life better. For her. And for Mason. Needing to express her gratitude, she closed the distance and threw her arms around him, holding on tight. He dropped his head into her neck and held her close as the heat of his body enveloped her. “My God, Sullivan, you have gone way above and beyond here.” She leaned away and met the warmth swirling in his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“No thanks needed.” He released her, but she got the sense he didn’t want to. “I’m glad to do it.”

Something passed in the air between them—something that was raw, real, and felt so damn good that Clara never wanted to let go of it.

But, like most things, it didn’t last. “While I’m having a blast watching you two hug it out and talk sweet nothings,” Hayes commented with laughter in his voice, “we have a lot to do to get ready for tonight. How about we get to it?”

“Right,” Sullivan said, stepping away, looking like it was the very last thing he wanted to do.

Amelia studied the booth. “Did you bring enough merchandise?”

Hayes nodded. “I knew the drill and grabbed it all, plus as many kegs that weren’t labeled for shipment.”

Maisie squeaked a sound of pure happiness then threw herself at him. He kissed her wildly like no one was looking.

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Now who’s talking sweet nothings to each other?”

Sullivan chuckled, but Clara couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pinged. The way Maisie grabbed Hayes like that, Clara realized she wanted that too. To kiss someone just like that, and she knew exactly who she wanted to kiss too. But then, reality hit. “Mason—”

“I took care of that,” Sullivan said with a gentle smile. “Penelope is picking him up after school. She’ll bring him home, put him to bed tonight, and will wait for us until we get back.”

“You arranged all that?” she asked.

Sullivan cocked his head, his brow wrinkled. “Is that all right? Still not overstepping?”

“No, not at all,” Clara said with a disbelieving shake of her head. “More than all right. Sullivan, I’m…” She glanced at her sisters, who wore matching beaming smiles, before adding to him. “I’m not used to having help like this. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

“Good thing you don’t have to thank me, then,” Sullivan said. “Better get ready, ladies. Time is counting down.” Then he turned and walked away like he wasn’t changing their very lives.

With Clara and her sisters busy serving customers from their booth, and having already endured a lecture from his agent about doing a commercial for free, Sullivan headed down the cement staircase toward the visitors’ clubhouse. The familiar scents of popcorn and grease followed him on his walk. He’d stayed clear of fans wearing Boston Red Sox’s jerseys and baseball caps, keeping his head down, wanting to keep out of sight tonight. The last thing he wanted was the press swarming him for their next hot story. Tonight was all about Clara, and Three Chicks Brewery, and he wanted to keep the focus there. He’d gone past three security checkpoints, but he’d already gotten a pass from security that allowed him through. He felt edgy since he was missing the action. Denver had always been a hard game for him to play, too close to home, but tonight, his edginess was different. He felt different. Above him, fans took their seats, and their loud voices nearly vibrated in the cement hallways.

When he opened the clubhouse’s door, he found the team doing what they always did before a game. Some guys were