“I have a better idea,” he said, and he led her the rest of the way.
Brynn perched atop a stool at the bar. It was Jamie’s idea to sit up close because then Brynn couldn’t cheat, not that she would. But whatever. She’d humor him.
“A blind taste test, huh? I feel like you’re taking advantage of my situation, James. How do I know you won’t have our friend Tim here put Tabasco in my glass or make me drink some other patron’s leftovers?”
Tim was the bartender, and Jamie had introduced himself as a brewmaster the second they sat down. Now the two were practically besties, and Jamie was behind the bar with Tim instead of on a stool next to her.
“It’s not like this is a fraternity prank,” Jamie said. “But you have given me some good ideas, now, if I decide to go that route. And it’s not a taste test. It’s an experience. You can interact with the brews from a completely different perspective. A more sensual beer-tasting event.”
Brynn raised her brows, and Jamie and Tim both laughed, a duet of maleness that was maybe a little bit sensual.
“Head out of the gutter, Chandler,” Jamie said. “Sensual as in senses—as in using your other senses to enjoy the experience.”
She knew the definition of the word and was ready and willing to argue her point, but before she could, Jamie grabbed her hand and placed it on a cool pint glass. Brynn assumed she knew the rules and immediately raised the glass to her lips.
“No!” Both men yelled in chorus, and her hand stopped mid-tilt, beer dribbling over the rim and on to her hand.
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Am I not supposed to drink it? Maybe I should have had you clarify sensual a little better.”
“She’s funny,” Tim said to Jamie.
“Difficult is more like it,” Jamie mumbled, but Brynn caught the words just fine. Maybe her sense of hearing was sharpening now that she was virtually without sight.
“I’m right here, guys. Hello?”
She set the glass back down, and one of them handed her a napkin. She couldn’t make out which.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” The voice definitely belonged to Jamie. Okay. She’d give him a point back for politeness, but she was going to file away difficult for the next time she wanted to throttle him.
“Can we try again?” he asked. “This time with clearer directions?”
She crossed her arms and waited.
“Just put your hand on the glass first. It’s dry, by the way.”
Brynn sighed but did as she was told, allowing Jamie to guide her hands so there were no depth perception incidents.
Jamie and Tim were silent, and she was a tad creeped out without anyone talking to her.
“Um…is there a chant or something I’m supposed to say before I sip? What happened to my clear directions?”
A curl fell free of her bun, landing over her left eye. She blew it out of the way more on ceremony than anything else. Not like it was blocking her vision. But it flopped down again. She wanted to reach for it, but something told her she wasn’t supposed to let go of the glass, not after Jamie had so carefully placed her hands on it.
And since Jamie could probably hear her inner monologue, she wasn’t surprised when his fingertips brushed her forehead and then her cheek, tucking the rogue curl behind her ear. At least, she hoped it was Jamie. Because if it was Tim, that would just be weird.
It was definitely Jamie. She could smell that just him scent on the sleeve of his hoodie as it, too, tickled her cheek.
“Sensual experience,” she muttered and cleared her throat. “Directions, please?”
“Just tell me about the glass,” Jamie said.
“Jamie,” she whined. She just wanted to drink the damn beer.
“Brynn?” He drew out her name, his tone reminding her she’d agreed to play along.
“It’s cold,” she offered, but Jamie didn’t respond. While his shape was unclear, she could tell he was close, leaning on the bar in front of her, that scent of his lingering. Fine. The faster she got through this, the faster she could drink and drown out the just him.
“The glass is perspiring,” she continued, “so that already rules out stout because you would never serve me a chilled stout.”
Someone whistled his approval, and then she heard Tim’s voice.
“Your girl knows her brews.”