Page 40 of Something’s Brewing

He dropped into his own Adirondack chair just across the small patch of sand, not more than ten feet away. Another exhale. A rustle of fabric. Then stillness.

She cracked one eye open and glanced his way.

He’d leaned back, arms resting on the armrests, eyes closed like hers had been.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Madison broke the silence, voice soft. “You know it went well, right?”

Garrett didn’t move. “Hmm?”

“The soft opening,” she said. “It was a success.”

His eyes opened, just a little. “You think so?”

“I know so. The place was packed. Ryker kept things moving behind the bar. Your family and friends didn’t stop smiling. A couple minor hiccups, sure, but nothing you can’t iron out in the next forty-eight hours.”

Garrett was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah. I guess it felt right once I stopped hovering like a maniac.”

She grinned, eyes still half closed. “You did have strong hovering energy.”

“I had controlled observational presence.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Another beat of silence.

Then Madison asked, “You planning to feed people more than just pretzels? Or is that a phase-two reveal?”

“Eventually.” He chuckled, low and warm. “Mario’s been toying with the idea of making those little personal pizzas. He thinks he can set up something with the small oven we installed. But he hasn’t committed.”

“No food trucks?” she asked, lifting her cup to her lips.

“Thinking about it. They’re easier to rotate in and out, but they’re harder to find here. It’s not like the cities, where they’re a dime a dozen. But the end goal’s bigger.”

She turned to look at him now. He was staring out at the water, jaw relaxed, expression open but unreadable.

“I bought the old armory for a reason,” he said after a second. “Big space. High ceilings. Needs work, but it’s got potential. If the brewery really lands, I’m hoping to remodel and lease out the rest of the building. Best case, we get a full-time restaurant in. Something small but solid.”

“Like what you and Mason did in Minneapolis.”

Garrett nodded. “Same blueprint. Just . . . here.”

Madison pulled the blanket tighter. “It felt different tonight.”

He looked over. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. More yours, maybe. More rooted.” She hesitated. “I saw it in your face tonight. When people talked to you, when they looked around. It meant something.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his eyes drift back over the lake, the moonlight rippling across its surface in soft silver waves.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “It did.”

The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was companionable. Natural.

Madison let her gaze drift over the water. The moonlight shimmered across the lake.

“It’s nice here,” she murmured.