But now she's a successful business owner and so damn beautiful it makes my chest ache. I get hard just thinking of the way she stood up to me about the blonde ale, refusing to back down even when I pushed. I’ve always loved that backbone.
Damn, I'm so screwed. It’ll be a miracle if I maintain my sanity over the next few weeks.
The walk to The Sassy Siren takes about thirty seconds, but it feels longer. I can see through the taproom window that it’s lightly busy with a few locals. Saturday afternoons are prime time for Merri, which is probably why she scheduled the tasting for noon instead of later.
I stroll inside, and all eyes swivel in my direction. Word got out about our forced partnership and I’m sure the entire town is enjoying the show as they wait for fireworks.
Tommy spots me immediately from behind the bar. "Wyatt! Perfect timing." He gestures toward the far corner of the taproom, where a small table has been set up away from the other patrons. "We're all ready for you."
"Right." As I move toward the corner table, Merri emerges from the back room, wiping her hands on a towel and heads my way. She's wearing jeans and a Sassy Siren t-shirt, her light brown hair pulled back in a french braid that does amazing things for her eyes.
"Wyatt."
I grin as I settle into a seat. "Merri."
Two tasting flights are each set up with five small glasses, filled with what looks like the same golden beer and numbered one through five. Admiral is sprawled out on the floor beneath the table, apparently settling in for a nap.
"You're punctual as always," Merri comments as she slides into the chair next to me, close enough that I can smell her perfume again.
I grunt, not feeling a need to respond to the rhetorical statement. "Are you ready for this?" I ask, waving my small notebook in the air.
"I've been ready since Wednesday." She produces her own notebook, setting it on the table. "I've got a rating system prepared. We're doing this scientifically."
Of course she does, and it reminds me again just how professional she really is. "Great minds."
She snorts. "Or just two control freaks who refuse to half-ass anything."
I chuckle. "That too."
Tommy appears with a tray holding a water pitcher and two glasses. "Okay, here’s the ground rules. You're tasting blind, which means I'm the only one who knows which sample is which. You'll try all five, take notes, and then we'll compare results. No discussing until you're both done. And drink water between samples to cleanse your palate."
"Yes, sir," Merri says, mock-saluting.
"And don't make me separate you two," Tommy warns with a wag of his finger. He sets the tray down and points to the first glass. "Sample One. Go."
I pick up the glass, holding it up to the light. The color is beautiful—pale gold and crystal clear. I bring it to my nose first, inhaling. There's the familiar blonde ale aroma, but underneath it, coffee. Not overpowering, just present.
Beside me, Merri does the same thing, her expression focused and unreadable.
I take a sip, and the beer hits my tongue with a bright, crisp maltiness, and then the coffee comes through. It’s subtle, with fruity notes that complement rather than compete. It's good. Really fucking good. I swallow and make a note in my notebook:Clean, balanced, coffee subtle but present. Fruity finish.
Merri scribbles in her own notebook, her face giving away nothing.
We move through the samples methodically. Sample Two has a bolder coffee presence, darker and more robust. Sample Three is somewhere in between, with a slightly nutty undertone. Sample Four has an almost chocolatey quality, rich and smooth.Sample Five is the lightest, with the coffee barely detectable except in the aftertaste.
By the time we finish, I'm impressed. No, that’s an understatement. I'm completely blown away. Every single combination works. Some are more aggressive with the coffee, some are more subtle, but there's not a bad option in the bunch.
I set down my pen and turn to Merri. "Holy shit. These are all good."
She glances at me, relief on her face. "You think so?"
"I know so. Merri, these are seriously impressive. I’d drink the hell out of every single one of them. I figured maybe two or three would be decent, but all five?" I shake my head. "That's skill."
A genuine smile crosses her face, the kind that makes her eyes shine. "I was worried the coffee might be overpowering, but I think the cold infusion method helped preserve both flavors."
"It worked." I gesture at the glasses. "We need to pick one. What's your take?"
Her expression shifts to business mode. "Okay, Sample Five is too subtle. You can barely taste the coffee, and we need it to be recognizable as a coffee beer. Sample Two is too aggressive. The coffee dominates and hides the beer's characteristics. That leaves Three, Four, and One."
