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I gave him a salute. “Let’s do it.”

For another half an hour, we worked together like a well-oiled machine, hauling heaters and more furniture. Soon, the patio was completely cleared, the sun was on its way to setting, and the TV crew started to filter back toward the inside of the brewery.

I was standing at the edge of the empty deck, leaning on the railing next to Sawyer, when Chase appeared next to me again.

“Harlan Moore,” he said. “The man of the hour. Can we get some more shots of you next to the brewing tanks? Maybe explaining the process?”

I cocked my head to one side. “The brewing tanks? I thought the TV show was just going to focus on the renovations out back. I’m not even part of the Fixer Brothers.”

“That’ll be the main focus, for sure,” Chase said, “but we always want little bits of footage showing the overall vibe of a place. It’s called ‘B-roll.’ Helps viewers get a good sense of the brewery itself, tells a story.”

“If you want a good story, you should talk to Rush, not me,” I said. “He’s the owner of this place. Inherited it from his dad.”

“I’ll shoot some footage with Rush, too,” Chase said. “But first, I wanna film you. I’ll see you in there, okay?”

He gave me a smile and didn’t wait for me to answer before disappearing inside.

When I turned back toward Sawyer, I already knew he’d be raising his eyebrows at me.

“Don’t even start with me—”

“I told you,” he said, holding up his hands. “Just sayin’, Moose.”

“And I told you, Chase seems nice, but he ain’t my type.”

Sawyer was biting back a smile. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

I clicked my tongue, looking out at the last remnants of the sunset filtering through the pine trees.

“Sawyer, to be honest, I can’t even remember the last time I kissed someone.”

I looked over at him and he held my gaze for a moment. He paused, looking like he was considering something as his eyes scanned my face.

And then he leaned in, pressing a quick, tiny peck to my lips.

I froze like a goddamn deer.

He was kissing me. My best friend since I was a kid. My instinct took over, and I put a hand to his waist, pulling him a little closer to me before I was conscious of what I was doing. Realized that I had no right to be pulling Sawyer up against me like that.

But he was kissing me.

“There,” he said as he slowly pulled away. “Seal broken. Now it’s not weird, and you can definitely remember the last time you kissed someone.”

My lips suddenly felt hot. My cheeks were hot again, too. I’d finally started to cool down after an afternoon of labor, and now my body was like fucking liquid magma.

“You just kissed me,” I said, like I was saying I’d just seen a pig fly through the air.

“And?” he said, like he was challenging me.

My cock hardened under my jeans and I knew I should move to try to make it a little less obvious. But instead I stayed frozen in place, hot and hard and feeling like my mind was somewhere else entirely.

I cleared my throat. “You kissed me,” I repeated.

What the hell else could I say?

Get the fuck back over here and kiss me again before I keel over and die on the spot?

Or, even closer to the truth: I have imagined what that would feel like for my whole adult life, and now I only want more?

No. Certainly fucking not.

He furrowed his brow. “If it was that bad, I apologize,” he said, searching my face again. “I won’t do it again—”

“No, no,” I interjected, my voice going a little too loud. “Bad? Nothing you do is bad. It was obviously, uh, good. Of course it was good.”

I wasn’t all that good with words to begin with, but right now, I was totally lost. All from one little peck on the lips. I was so aware of his eyelashes, lit up by the afternoon sun, and the pale blue of his irises beside the two little freckles at the corner of his left eye.

My heart was going like a jackhammer. Sawyer pulled in a long breath, looking down at the wooden railing on the deck, and I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. The air between us felt different now, almost charged. Was I the only one who felt it? “I… actually couldn’t remember the last person I’d kissed, either,” he said. “So I admit it was as selfish as it was anything else. If you can forgive me for that.”

“No need for forgiveness,” I said. “Just give a guy some warning next time you’re going to go in for a kiss. I just about had a heart attack.”

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