"What?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We've got a lot of work to do, but this is really encouraging. From what you'd said before, I thought maybe you had a general idea that you'd like to serve food, but you were still in the daydream phase. This is a real vision. This is going to be easy."

"It is?"

"Well, easy for me, but still lots of work for you."

He laughed, but she thought she saw a moment of stark relief cross his face. This seemed unsteady ground for him, and it was strange to see such a confident man struck by such uncertainty. She didn't quite understand it. He was a co-owner of the brewery. He ran the front room with amazing skill. But something about this idea threw him into a tailspin.

"So where do you want to start?" she asked.

"I don't know. Where do you think we should start?"

"You've already got a concept, not to mention a location. So, next up...competitive comparisons, equipment costs, design ideas and renovation costs, menu development, a public affairs campaign, the timeline, personnel plans, a budget..." She stopped when she realized how pale he was. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, sure. Yeah. I think I have some of that stuff in there. Or at least parts of it?"

She hadn't thought Jamie Donovan could get more adorable, but here he was being vulnerable, and Olivia couldn't help the warm, fuzzy feelings glowing through her. "All right," she said softly. "Why don't we go through some of this and see where we are?"

"Okay," he said, breathing a sigh of relief, even as he seemed to brace himself for trauma.

"Hey." She curved her fingers under his and squeezed. "It's just a hot tub," she said, repeating his own words. "Nothing to be scared of."

His eyes crinkled. "Just a hot tub, huh? I'd be more comforted if I hadn't been lying my ass off when I said that."

If this were a real relationship, Olivia would circle the desk and give him a hug. She'd snuggle into his lap and tell him not to be worried, he'd be just as good at running a restaurant as he was at everything else. But they were only playing mentors. Granted, with a more delicious twist than usual. So Olivia only squeezed his hand one more time and let him go.

So far, the man had more than held up his end of the bargain. Now it was time for her to help make his dreams come true.

CHAPTER TEN.

JAMIE SLIPPED THE MEASURING TAPE from his pocket with one last look around the kitchen area of the brewery. There wasn't much equipment here: prep tables, a dishwasher, a fridge and a small oven and range used for the occasional catered events they hosted. There was definitely space for a pizza oven, but just how much space was the question.

He measured the empty wall of the kitchen for a start, then measured out the prep space. He thought there was more than enough usable prep area, but he'd have to ask Olivia about that. They'd need a much bigger fridge, but that stood on a wall by itself, so there was plenty of room to expand. The electrical needs he didn't know much about. He'd need to bring somebody in. But when? Electricians didn't work on Sundays, and his brother and sister were around the rest of the week. Maybe he could bring somebody at 8:00 a.m. before anyone else showed up.

"Hey!"

Jamie spun, fumbling the measuring tape before he registered that the voice wasn't Eric's.

"Where the hell is that spring barley I ordered last month?"

Jamie felt slightly dizzy with relief that it was only Wallace, the brewmaster. And that was a hell of a lot of relief, considering that Wallace's huge, bearded face was crumpled into a scowl of fury.

"Well?" he boomed.

"Calm down. I told you when you ordered it that it wouldn't be here for at least three months. It hadn't even been harvested yet."

"How the hell am I supposed to work on the new IPA when I don't have barley?"

Jamie shrugged, used to the man's temperamental rages. "I thought you were working on the spicy chocolate stout."

"Yes! And the cranberry wheat and the dark ale. I work on more than one batch at once, in case you've never noticed, Mr. Donovan."

Oh, for Christ's sake. What the hell was up his ass today?

"What are you doing?" Wallace suddenly asked, his hot gaze dropping to the measuring tape lying on the floor between them.

"What?" Jamie croaked.

The brewmaster gestured toward the object in question.

"Oh. Right." Jamie swooped down to grab the tape, then stuffed it into his pocket. "Measuring things."

"I get that. But what-"

"Hey, is everything okay, man? You seem really tense."

Wallace rolled his big shoulders and seemed to throw off his question about the tape. "Eh. You know. Personal shit."

"Girl troubles?" Jamie asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. "Or boy troubles?" He could never keep track of who Wallace was dating.

"Yes," the man answered, so Jamie just nodded.

Wallace put one of his giant hands on Jamie's shoulder and leaned closer. Jamie found himself staring up into fierce gray eyes. The guy had to be at least six-eight.

"You know how it is, Jamie. Everybody thinks it's all fun and games when you play the field. But I care about every single person I date. And sometimes...it gets complicated."

"Tell me about it."

"I knew you'd understand."

Jamie nodded, and Wallace's fingers squeezed his shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry I exploded. I'm just feeling tense. Maybe I need a good, hard workout." He winked.

"Um...Wallace?" Jamie cleared his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Are you coming on to me?"

"What?"

Jamie slid his eyes toward his shoulder and the big paw that engulfed it.

Wallace's bushy beard twitched. His grip loosened. "Good Christ, man," he barked, then threw his head back to howl with laughter.

"What?" Jamie demanded. His only answer was a hard slap on the back that nearly toppled him. "What's so funny?"

"You...You..."

Jamie crossed his arms. "What?"

"You're hardly my type, are you?"

"Well..." Jamie scowled. "I suppose not."

"I suppose not!" Wallace chuckled.

"Dude, it's not that funny," Jamie insisted.

"Oh, come on." Another slap on the back, but this time, Jamie was ready for it and only had to take the barest step forward. He scowled down at his crossed arms.

"You know what?" Wallace said. "Thanks for cheering me up. But even if I was attracted to you, it wouldn't be appropriate, since you're my boss."

"Well, sure-" Jamie started.

"Even more complicated than my normal love life. But thanks."

He was all the way across the room before Jamie registered what he'd said. Thanks? "Hey-"

Wallace just gave a friendly wave before he disappeared into the tank room, still chuckling as the door closed behind him.

"What the hell?" Jamie muttered, his skin still hot with embarrassment, though half of his embarrassment was because he wasn't sure what he was upset about: That he'd just been accused of inviting his brewmaster to come on to him, or that his brewmaster had rejected him out of hand? "Ridiculous," he scoffed. He was not upset that his nonexistent come-on had been batted away. That was crazy. And he should be glad he wasn't Wallace's type. The man dated people who were petite and soft, regardless of gender. Jamie didn't fall into either of those categories, thank God.

Totally thrown off by the conversation, Jamie turned in a slow circle, unsure, for a moment, why he was standing in the middle of the room with a pencil in his hand.

"Right. Measurements." Still, he looked around in confusion one more time before turning his attention back to the numbers. He had what he'd come in for, anyway. Now he needed to make some calls about a pizza oven.

Olivia had given him homework, of all things, so he'd given her some, as well. She'd looked more than a little doubtful at the idea of being ready to go to dinner at nine.

"Nine?" she'd pressed. "That's so..."

"Late?"

"Look, I've been out past ten before. You're being silly."

"All right. So it'll be silly. Nine o'clock."

Silly or not, she'd looked downright worried about it, and that made Jamie smile as he walked down the hallway that led to the brewery offices. He'd volunteered to take the smallest office, since he spent most of his time in the front, but he couldn't help but feel that it represented his share of the responsibilities, too. Hopefully his office would soon be too small for him, and he could sit in there and complain righteously about the lack of space. Someday. But right now, his few papers and files didn't come close to filling the available space.

"Jamie?"

Jamie froze in his tracks, then backed up a step to Eric's open door.

"I heard you arguing with Wallace. What are you doing here? You've got Tuesdays off."

"Just checking up on a few things." The tape felt like a lead weight in his pocket.

"Did Wallace settle down?"

Jamie narrowed his eyes, looking for a hint of mockery on his brother's face, but he didn't find any. Maybe that part of the conversation had been too quiet. "He's fine."

"Good. And you? You dealing with the rejection okay?"

"Fuck off."

"Hey!" Eric called as Jamie stalked toward his own office. "Wait a sec. I wanted to talk to you."

Gritting his teeth, he spun back toward his brother's door.

"I'm serious," Eric said. "It's about Tessa."

That wiped away all of Jamie's outrage. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just... Do you think it'll be okay? Her living with Luke?"

"I don't know, man. You're the one who gave the go-ahead. I thought you were good with it."

"I'm not good with it. But she's twenty-seven and the house is hers. She can do what she wants."

"And she will anyway," Jamie grumbled. "No matter what we think."

"Exactly." The one thing they'd always been able to agree on was their little sister. And up until this year, they'd agreed that she was sweet and innocent and likely to stay that way for a long while. Boy, had they been wrong about that.

Jamie shrugged. "I guess. Anyway, you seem to have warmed up to Luke."

Eric didn't miss the accusation in Jamie's tone. Eric scowled and his hands fisted. "We were wrong about him. You were wrong about him."

"I'm telling you, he was a player in college-"

"Yeah, well, he grew up. And he makes her happy. Even you said that."

"Right. I guess."

Eric sighed. "She's with him, so we have to give him a real chance. Assuming, of course, that he treats her perfectly."

"Of course," Jamie agreed. "Did she say anything to you about when he would move in?"

"His lease is up in a month, so sometime before then, I'd guess. She was...a little vague."