Enemies on Tap by Avery Flynn

hopped up onto the seat next to him and picked up the menu like it was any ordinary Saturday.
    He tipped his Salvation High School football Saints baseball cap. “Miranda.”
    He didn’t smile, but he didn’t shoo her off, either. That had to be positive. Right? Her stomach gurgled. Okay, time to go all in.
    Swiveling her chair, she turned until she faced him. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”
    “Sorry.” His namesake’s color rushed up his throat. “I meant to return your calls.”
    “Not a problem. I know how busy this time of year can be.” Since grabbing him by the collar and shaking him until he did what she wanted wasn’t an option, she gave her most indulgent smile. “I wanted to chat about the road leading to the brewery. I understand it’s been on the repaving list for the last five years, but it never gets done.”
    He folded his napkin over and over until it formed a tiny triangle. “That happens.”
    “I’m sure it does.” She put her hands close to the counter and lifted her pointer fingers and thumbs to form a mini-goal post. “But there’s going to be a lot more traffic on that road soon what with additional delivery trucks, supplies coming in, and people going on brewery tours.”
    “Uh-huh.” Red flicked the paper football, sending it sailing through her fingers.
    She picked up the triangle and handed it back to him. “I’m hoping you can make sure the road doesn’t get skipped again this year when it comes to repaving.”
    He gave her a half grin and a nod. “Let me see what we can—”
    “Red, how’s the kids?” Logan elbowed his way in between them, leaning on the counter with his back to her.
    Miranda’s blood pressure spiked as she got an up-close and personal view of the cowlick in the back of Logan’s mahogany hair and his still-worth-mooning-over ass brushed against her knees, making her legs tingle from angle to hip. Damn the man and her own mutinous body for reacting to being this near the jerk.
    “I hear Marty is going to be stellar at quarterback this year.” Logan continued as if he hadn’t just barged in between her and Red.
    The other man’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, and his signature flush had deepened to vine-ripe tomato red. “I sure think so, and Coach Lansky put together a great team this year, so we’re hoping for a state championship.”
    It took a second to recover from the shock of Logan’s brazen full-frontal attack. Then she couldn’t believe she didn’t have smoke coming out of her ears. Resisting the sophomoric urge to give him a wedgie, Miranda cleared her throat instead.
    Logan ignored her. “Well, you can depend on the bank to be a big booster supporter again this year.”
    “Great. Our boys sure appreciate it.”
    “Always glad to help a friend.” He clapped his hand against the other man’s shoulder.
    She tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
    He glanced back. “You’re excused.” Then he turned away and started talking football again with Red.
    For his part, Red’s eyes had gone huge, and his worried gaze flickered between Miranda and Logan as he slouched back until his butt was barely on the chair.
    She jabbed her finger into Logan’s kidney. “We were in the middle of a conversation before you so rudely interrupted.”
    “You were?” He stepped back, his face as innocent as a discount store Christmas tree angel. “I’m so sorry. What were you talking about?”
    Red stared at the ground like he was wishing for a hole to open up. If it did, she was going to shove Logan in it.
    “Repaving County Road Forty-Four,” she responded.
    A divot of fake concern appeared between his eyes. “The one that leads to your very troubled little brewery?”
    “That’s the one.” An angry heat enveloped her from toe to eyebrow. She was beginning to understand how this town had driven her family to act out.
    “I’m curious, Red.” Logan stroked his dimpled chin. “Is that road high up on the