Kickstart My Heart (Burgers and Brew Crue #1) - Lacey Black Page 0,15

when he doesn’t.

“I have this idea,” he starts, exhaling loudly and resting his own elbows on the bar.

“Tell me,” I repeat.

Jameson glances my way, a hint of nerves filters through his facial features. “You know how I’ve been tinkering around with making beer?”

I nod, remembering a few years back when he bought one of those at-home brewing kits. The first few rounds weren’t that great, but he slowly perfected his recipe and now makes some damn good brew. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ve been looking into, I guess tryin’ to figure out, what it might take to start up a brewery.”

His confession surprises me yet doesn’t at the same time. “Yeah?”

He nods. “I’ve been researchin’ it online, and well, the building next door is vacant.”

Easily, I fill in the blanks. “That’s a phenomenal idea, man. Are you thinking of doing this yourself or maybe expanding Burgers and Brew?” I know which way I’m leaning, but this is his idea, so I keep my opinion to myself. For now.

His eyes meet mine. “Do you think the guys would be interested?”

“Hell yeah,” I state bluntly.

He glances back down at his Sprite. “It would be a way for me to contribute a little more around here,” he adds with a shrug.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Some days, you have the hardest job of all of us.”

“Maybe on Friday or Saturday nights, but the rest of the week? I feel like I’m just taking up space.”

“That’s bullshit, Jame. You pitch in over here all the damn time, and even though you won’t set foot in the main office, you help everywhere. We appreciate the hell out of you,” I say, hating that he feels like he’s not contributing as much as the rest of us.

“I know,” he replies with a sigh. “I guess, well, this might be a way for me to do more. And I’ve really enjoyed brewing beer at home.”

“It’s damn good beer,” I add.

He gives me a small, crooked smile. “I think so too. I have the recipe pretty much right where I want it.” He takes a deep breath. “It won’t be easy or cheap.”

“When have we ever wanted easy or cheap, man?” Four guys starting a business from the ground up wasn’t either.

“Well, last time Amie was in here, I got both,” he replies with a cocky grin. Though, he doesn’t mean he’s paying her. He’s just referring to the fact she’s a quick, easy lay whenever she comes into the bar, which sometimes, is often.

I snort a laugh. “True. She’s always willing to go for a ride, and I don’t mean on your Harley.”

Jameson turns serious once more. “What do you think Numbers will say?”

“Well, you say you’ve been doing research? Make him a pitch. I’ll help you. We’ll make sure we have the answers ready to go for any questions he might have. I think it’s a great idea, man, and it fits our business venture. Our own brewery makes complete sense to me, and I think the others will agree.”

“Maybe.”

I’m already shaking my head. “No maybe about it. Do it.”

Before he can reply, we’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat. We glance over to see Mallory standing near the middle of the bar with a nervous look on her face. “Sorry to disturb you.”

My feet are already carrying me toward her. “You’re fine. It’s my job to take care of you.”

Her eyes widen, and I realize what I said. The crazy part is, I actually like the thought of taking care of her, which is fucking crazy. I don’t know her. She could be married or dating someone for all I know, though I’m certain the first is out of the question. She doesn’t wear a ring, and I’ve gotten pretty good at sniffing out the single and taken ones. Even the latter ones who pretend they’re not.

“Umm, well, I need a gin and tonic and a white wine,” she replies.

While I start to pour her drinks, I see my friend moving from the far end of the bar. “Hey, Mallory. Sorry to hear about what happened earlier. Things like that don’t happen too often, but if they do, let us know right away. We don’t put up with that shit,” Jameson says, towering over her.

If she’s nervous by his imposing size, she doesn’t let on. “Thank you, Jameson. I will.”

He nods before turning and heading toward the back door, most likely to have that cigarette. “Here ya go,” I say, as I place the glasses