I raise my brows. “How canyou, of all people, want to open this place up as the ultimateweddingdestination?”
There’s no hiding the disgust in my voice, but if anyone shares my disdain for relationships, it’s him. Ezra is just as anti-marriage as I am. It’s why we work so well together and gravitated toward one another when we did.
I was fresh off a divorce and leaving the game I knew and loved my entire life, and he was fresh out of his long-term relationship with physical therapy. We were a match made in grumpy heaven.
“Money.”
He says it so simply, and, fuck, I guess itisthat simple.
I think back to the plans I made four years ago when I decided to start my own business. I was still playing hockey, but I knew my time in the league was winding down. As much as I loved playing, I was aging out and slowing down in every aspect of my game. It was just a matter of time before the offers stopped coming in. I wanted to be ready once they did. I didn’t want to be that retired player who didn’t have a clue how to navigate the world beyond hockey or spends his time at the rink shooting the shit and reminiscing on the good old days. I wanted to dosomething.
So I dreamed up Stick Taps.
One of my favorite things about being on the road so often was trying new beer and cider from all over North America. While most guys were chilling in fancy restaurants or hitting clubs, I was off in my own little world, hanging at local breweries and cideries and trying everything I could get my hands on. I found comfort in them. Found a peace and sense of belonging that I wasn’t getting with hockey anymore, not with the younger crowd coming in and the game getting away from me.
Lucky for me, Ezra wanted the same thing and immediately jumped in on investing and taking over the numbers side of it all, having recently completed a degree in business management.
A dinner and a handshake later, Stick Taps was officially born.
That was three years ago, and while we’re doing well and turning a damn good profit, I still want more.
I guess Ezra does too.
“See?” Izzy says. “This was a good idea!Andyou can kick off your new venture by hosting my wedding and show this town what they’d be getting by booking their next event here. Just say yes, big brother.”
She bats her lashes at me again, and dammit, if that, paired with Ezra being on board, doesn’t crack my walls.
The odds are stacked against me now, and I fear I don’t have a choice.
I’m still not sure we’re the right match for it, and I have no fucking clue if we can pull this off, but what else do we have to lose?
“Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Fine. Fine. You can have the wedding here.”
“Oh my gosh! I can’t wait. We have so many ideas. We—”
“But,” I cut off my sister’s celebration, “theonlything I’m doing is helping restore the old barn. That’s it. I’m not moving anything inside the cidery, and we’re not doing anything else to the land. The barn, and that’s it.”
“And the coop for Tootsie,” Ezra says, his fingers flying over his keyboard, probably already calculating potential profits and whatever other shit he’s always doing behind the scenes. Those are our roles, though—he handles the numbers and business side of things, like making sure we’re on schedule with our products and that apple shipments are never behind. I handle the farm, taproom, and all the activities we host. “If we’re going to have big crowds here, we can’t have her running all over the place.”
“And Toots. I’ll figure out something for her.”
“Are you sure?” Izzy asks, chewing on her bottom lip, picking up on my apprehension. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to, Noah.”
Bullshit. We both know she would.
And fuck no, I’m not sure. Istilldon’t want to do this. But if it makes Izzy happy ...
“I’m sure,” I tell her.
“Excellent.” She gives me a saccharine smile, reaching for her phone with a joyful shoulder shake.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Odette.”
I try not to react to the name that sends a shiver down my spine. I try not to let it show that Odette is the last person I want my sister to call.
“How lucky am I that my best friend is a wedding planner?” Izzy says, bringing the phone to her ear.
