"People love to see behind the scenes."

"Exactly." Emma busied herself with dragging the rest of her suit up. "We've always had a basic tour, but people want real experiences. We'll get our hands in the wort and play with some hops and we'll also do a bit of blending at the end."

"Sounds like fun."

"And then there's that free beer you mentioned. It pretty much guarantees everyone's happy, even the ones who don't want to play in a bunch of fermented yeast."

Daphne took in the excited faces of everyone assembled, along with the steadily rising volume of conversation, and realized Emma and Nick were on to something. "You've really got something here. From dates to bachelor parties to girls' nights out. Everyone looks ready to have a good time."

Satisfaction framed Emma, and Daphne couldn't quite hold back the small shot of envy, which bothered her-especially since Emma had been nothing but warm and kind since she came over. But it was there all the same. The woman had her life figured out. She was immersed in something she clearly loved with a man she wanted to be with.

She had a future. A path, a direction, and a heap of goals.

And no secrets.

But damn it, it wasn't a secret if it was part of her job. She'd been honest and upfront about that with Landon from the get-go.

So why did "doing her job" feel like a betrayal of his trust?

It only added to the ominous swirl that seemed to hover when she thought about her own future. The terrorism task force she angled for was a huge honor, but being a part of it would also carry necessary secrets. She'd have access to information few were ever allowed to know.

How did you reconcile that with a lover? With a family? With friends?

She'd asked herself the same questions for the past few months, ever since the announcement of openings on the task force, and was no closer to an answer.

But it was puzzling to realize the questions had only intensified since she'd met Landon McGee.

Eight.

"To a successful tour." Landon raised his glass and couldn't quell his pride or excitement for Nick and Emma. They'd worked hard to overcome their adversarial positions and now had a strong business with an even stronger future between them.

They also had each other.

He and Daphne stood on one side of a high-top table near the bar in the tasting room, Nick and Emma balanced them on the other side, flushed with smiles. They had been besieged with good wishes and requests to come back since the tour had ended a half hour ago.

"I think you're on to something here." Landon said.

"The blending at the end was inspired, and so much fun," Daphne added. "I had no idea I could make beer taste so bad. I have four brothers who'd argue there was no such thing, but I believe I have successfully proved them all wrong."

"Four brothers?" Nick's full gaze bounced squarely in Landon's direction before tripping back to Emma. "You must have a lot of protection."

"Overprotection, more like. But I've spent nearly three decades figuring out how to get around it." Daphne smiled. "Or under it. Or above it. Or, I'm not entirely ashamed to admit, on the rare occasions when needs must, lying to it."

The comment was innocent and the product of years of sibling exasperation, but something in her statement stuck. Or struck, more like.

When needs must.

Daphne had been honest with him-that had been his experience from the start-but something about the admission stuck in his craw. Would she lie?

Honesty was a trait he valued above nearly everything else. He'd learned the lesson young that he'd rather know the truth and work from there than be shut out or shut down. Hell, his recent issues with his mother were steeped in that feeling of betrayal that came from not knowing.

Even if it wasn't your business to know?

He'd struggled with that simple reality, even as a large part of him knew his mother was entitled to her privacy. She hadn't lied on the subject of her past, and while he knew many felt omission was a lie, in this case she wasn't even a part of his life at the time the events had happened.

Did he have a right to know? Or now, in the knowing, have an opinion?

Shake it off, McGee.

Between a simple joke from Daphne and the lingering issues with his mother, he was a barrel of laughs. Shaking it all off, he refocused on the conversation. He didn't miss Nick's sideways glance, but his brother remained silent.

"Well I, for one, won't need to lie or stare cluelessly at brunch tomorrow." Emma reached for Nick's hand. "This evening, I officially won the Cherry Street free-for-all."

"What's that?" Daphne asked before Landon could step in and explain the weekly Sunday meal at his mother's. Some weeks it was brunch, others lunch or dinner, depending on the sports schedule and what her band of misfits had on their weekend agendas.

He hadn't invited Daphne yet-had been debating if it was time to go there and introduce her to the nosiest clan in Park Heights-and now Emma's innocent comment would seal the deal.

"Please excuse me if I gloat, but I met you before Landon's mother or Mrs. W., their boarder. It will make both of them crazy and give me an edge on the gossip train, which I never, ever have."

Where he might have expected anger or annoyance or even a question about the event, Landon saw none. Instead, Daphne lifted her glass, her smile still shining bright. "You gave me gloating rights against my brothers. You've got brunch bragging rights. Glad I could help."

Daphne's quick wink in his direction was all he needed to see she was not only okay with the lack of an invite, but well aware of the weight one would carry.

"Refills?" Nick gestured toward the table of empty glasses. When everyone nodded and called out their preferred favorite, Landon helped him carry the empties to the bar.

"Didn't take the two of them long." Nick's voice was quiet, in deference to the few others still milling around.

"I believe the words you're looking for are thick as thieves," Landon added.

Landon had watched Daphne and Emma's relationship progress through the evening. Both were congenial and friendly, but their comments had grown quieter and their knowing smiles broader as the tour had gone on. He liked Emma. Loved her, even. But how the hell had the woman managed to step in and steal his date for the evening?

"Sorry for the brunch comments. I love that Em's excited, but that's a loaded invitation. Double-barreled, if you count Mom and Mrs. W. And trust me, as a recent recipient of the brunch guard's undivided attention, I know what I'm talking about."

"It's okay. I was already thinking of inviting Daphne."

"You still going to?"

"If she's up for it." And if it doesn't come off like an afterthought, he added to himself.

Nick expertly pulled the taps for the various beers each of them wanted, his expression seemingly on the fresh glasses.

Landon knew better.

"A lot's happened since Wednesday night bellied up to the bar in my premiere establishment."

"So we've gone out a few times this week. It's not exactly a hardship to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman."

Nick's gaze immediately drifted to his fiancee. "That it's not."

Since there were beautiful women, both at their table and scattered throughout the tap room, Landon asked the obvious question. "Where's Fender tonight?"

"He went up to Watkins Glen for the weekend. Got drafted into helping with the race."

His brother's love of cars bordered on obsession, and the summer race season just gave him an even greater excuse than usual to indulge. His auto-body shop was a success, and Fender loved what he did, but to him, as he'd told them a million times, there was no sound on earth like the purr of a race car.

The fact that Landon had missed out on Fender's plans indicated just how far he'd drifted from his family over the past month. He texted his brothers pretty much all day every day when he wasn't on deadline. Even when he was, he still managed a pretty steady stream of messages, jokes, and generally ornery insults that made up the majority of his brotherly communication.

"I've been out of touch."

Nick placed the beers on the counter, that low voice once again finding its mark. "And now you're back. It's all good."

Landon swept the beers into his hands and headed back to the table while Nick finished off some refills for other guests. Landon knew his brother, and if Nick said things were all good, he meant it. He always had.

Emma eyed the beers in his hand and reached out to help. "Did Nick pour the pale ale?"

"He poured what everyone ordered."

Emma turned toward the bar, talking over her shoulder as she went. "I've been bragging on the pale ale and forgot to order it. Let me go get a few."

Their hostess butterflied off, stopping to talk to a few guests along the way, and Landon finally found himself alone with his date.

"Emma's great. She obviously loves your family. And she is so in love with your brother."

"Their relationship is new, but it's got a strong foundation and all the signs that it's going to last."

"Emma told me they were high-school chemistry partners. She also said Nick hadn't realized that when they met again."

"He spent quite a few years away from Park Heights when he played pro football, and so did Emma. He knew he knew her but didn't know why. Add on she had a different last name from her first marriage, and he couldn't place her."

"I can't say I blame him if high-school science class was the only clue he had to go on. Emma's great, but I firmly put chemistry out of my mind. You can add physics, algebra, geometry, and European history to that list, too."

Curious, he leaned forward. He'd seen her dedication and diligence to her job, and it was a surprise to think maybe she wasn't all that keen on school. "Not a student?"

"Not a fan of memorizing. I prefer to get in and learn by doing. Those subjects were just memorizing facts and figures until they ran together into a soup." She ran a finger over the condensation at the edge of her glass, distracted. The thick suit she wore for the tour was long gone, but he could see her armor seemingly build out of thin air over the soft pink blouse and dark slacks she wore.

"There is a lot of that. I'm amazed by how little of it I use. Keyboarding I use. Reading, definitely. But I'm more than happy to leave advanced calculus to the engineers."

"Advanced calculus?" She glanced up at that, the tension in her shoulders fading. "I bet you were good at science and math."

"I was good at everything in school. It seems that the modern American school curriculum favors those who don't mind memorizing reams of data and regurgitating it."

"Do you miss those days? The simplicity of it all?"

"No." And just like that, the armor leaped from Daphne to cover him like a cheap suit. Her attention caught, he could see her hesitate, as if battling with herself.

"You didn't like school?"

"I liked school just fine. It was the time when I wasn't in school I didn't care for all that much."

"It was bad?"

"Sometimes."

His conversation with his mother swatted at him, a vivid reminder of what he'd need to do if he had any interest in seeing things with Daphne go somewhere.

In your own words. In your own time. There's no shame, Landon.

He might have only known Daphne for a few days, but he figured the amount of time mattered a whole lot less than the fact that something nagged inside of him to tell her.

"Sometimes it was bad. Other times it wasn't. Life with an addict, you know."

"My uncle struggled with addiction for years. My mother was never quite sure who she was going to get for the holidays, or Sunday dinner, or a random Tuesday evening going out to get ice cream. I'd imagine it's immeasurably worse when it's a parent. A protector."

"Yeah." She'd read the file, so he avoided the pile-on of his mother's sins. And deliberately sidestepped his own. "When I got a good day or two, I used it to my advantage. Let's go get some clothes. Sign me up for soccer. I need a few new books for school. Stuff like that. She was amenable then. Happy to do it, even."

As if those times could make up for the rest.

Despite that, he'd used it. Used those good periods to angle for the things he wanted. It hadn't taken him long to understand how to manipulate her and manage her in order to get things. Along with that he found a way to squirrel away some of the other things they needed, including rent money.

Although their cash supplies were usually low, he'd learned to read patterns and signs. Had come to understand when his mother's friends were flush with some cash and when they were zoned out of it enough while celebrating those flush times to snag a bit for himself.

By six he'd managed to find three secure hiding places for his stashes in the apartment. By eight he'd taken over paying the rent and ensuring they had something in the pantry, stretching it to last when the flush times grew increasingly farther apart.

"She used those times to try and make things up to you?"

"Sure did. And I let her. That's how I met Nick and Fender. I rode a good window and got signed up for the local soccer team."

"And you've been together ever since."

"More or less."

"Was it love at first sight?"

He laughed at that one, even as he realized he'd never looked at Nick and Fender in quite that way. They'd actually been somewhat hostile to each other at first, with Fender running his small-time asshole routine and side checking everyone to get the ball. "I'm not sure I'd go that far. But I will say soccer was the one place where my big feet and long legs served me well. My feet were so big I wouldn't have missed the ball if you'd put it halfway across the field."

"Stealthy bastard. Got the ball every damn time." Nick interrupted the conversation, his smile broad as he set down a round of the anticipated pale ale. Emma was in his wake with something that looked suspiciously orange in color.

"You remember that?" Landon turned toward his brother.

"Hell yes I remember. Fend and I were busy arguing and shoving each other, and there you were, sneaking up the middle and running away with the ball. You scored before he and I even looked up."