Saving Grapes - Madeline Kirby Page 0,27
cluster of items on the floor. “Okay, ingredients. Looking at this list I’m going to assume you’re going whole grain?”
“Yeah.”
Al walked Ben through the grain area and showed him how the mills worked, and once he was sure Ben knew what he was doing he headed back out front. “I’m going to see if we have these particular hops.” He said. “I might have a locally-grown substitute if you’re interested.”
“Yeah – I was thinking I’d like to try that. Thom had no idea there was so much hop farming going on around here.”
“Thom?”
“Yeah, Thom Caldwell. I’m working and staying out at his place. Do you know him?”
Al had a funny look on his face, like he was trying to decide what to say. After a moment he said, “I don’t know him, but I know who he is. He used to, um, run around with Ross O’Connor.”
“Oh, years ago.”
“Ross is doing work out there now, though. I figure, Ross being Ross, it’s just a matter of time…”
Ben laughed. “Ross and Thom! No way. Not going to happen.”
Al looked at him, eyebrows raised, clearly skeptical.
“Thom is totally Ross’s type, though,” Al said, his tone flat.
“Well, Ross isn’t Thom’s, and I am.” Ben paused to let that sink in. This guy was awfully interested in Thom. Or was he interested in Ross? One way to find out. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“I’ll go check on those hops,” Al said, turning and walking towards the front of the store. Ben finished measuring and grinding the grains, put them in a mesh bag, which he put in the stockpot, and joined Al in the front room.
“Look, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
“No. I’m sorry.” Al pushed his glasses up with an index finger and started entering Ben’s items in the computer.
“If you have a thing for Thom, I’m afraid—”
Al looked up. “Thom? No! I mean, I’m sure he’s nice and all, but no. I don’t have a thing for Thom.”
Ben smiled. “That’s good, because I was not going to step aside graciously.”
Al smiled back.
“But if you’re interested in Ross, maybe you should just go for it, huh?”
“No,” Al shook his head. “We’re not... Never mind. Anyway, I’m sorry about all that, it was really unprofessional of me. Let’s talk hops, okay?”
“Sure.”
Ben left Bent Brewing with an armload of equipment and ingredients. He told Al he’d be back the next week to pick up some bottles and caps, and Al promised to put some aside for him. He drove home with a smile on his face. He had the whole day planned out – after lunch they’d get a batch of beer started, and after dinner he’d pin Thom down on the sofa and they’d make out like teenagers. Then he’d take Thom upstairs and finish the job.
Chapter 10
BEN WAS surprised when he opened his eyes Sunday morning to see light coming in the bedroom window. He was even more surprised to see that next to him, Thom was still asleep. Even though they allowed themselves the luxury of sleeping in that one day a week, they were both usually awake before the sun came up.
Ben studied Thom’s sleeping face. He looked younger when he was sleeping. Ben guessed that was because he was relaxed and not worrying about something. Ben liked the dark stubble that had grown in because Thom had been so busy the last few days that he had skipped shaving. Thom slept like he did most things – quiet and steady. He wasn’t a thrasher or a kicker, he didn’t hog the covers, and best of all he didn’t snore.
He checked the clock – it was late enough that the timer on the coffee maker would have gone off, but early enough that the coffee shouldn’t be burned, so he slipped out of bed and tiptoed down to the kitchen. He poured two mugs of coffee and headed upstairs with them, hoping to get there before Thom was out of bed.
His luck held, and Thom was just starting to wake up when he got back to the bedroom. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, setting the mugs down on the nightstand and joining Thom under the covers.
“Wha’ time izzit?” Thom mumbled.
“About eleven-thirty.”
“What the–?!” Thom sat bolt upright and started pushing at the covers.
“Relax! Relax!” Ben grabbed Thom and pulled him back down. “I’m kidding! It’s not even eight. Oh man, you should have seen your face!” Ben turned his face into the pillow to muffle his laugh.
“Why, you—” Thom tried