Brewery Tour With Neighbor

Kayla unlocked the side door of the Copper Vein Brewery with a soft metallic click, the after-hours hush wrapping around her like warm steam from the mash tuns. At twenty-eight she moved through the space with the easy ownership of someone who knew every valve and grain sack by heart. Her curves filled out the snug black brewery polo and the dark jeans that hugged her full hips and thick thighs; the fabric strained just enough across her ass to make the denim whisper when she walked. She glanced over her shoulder at Cody, her thirty-two-year-old neighbor, and felt the familiar low thrum of interest that had been building for months across the fence line.

Cody stepped inside behind her, broad shoulders nearly brushing the doorframe. Divorced, muscular from the construction work that kept him outdoors, he still smelled faintly of sawdust and the citrus soap he used after mowing. They’d traded lazy flirty barbs over the shared fence for half a year—her teasing him about the way his shirt clung when he sweat, him complimenting the way she stretched to prune the roses. Tonight she’d offered him the private tour as a “neighborly thank-you” for fixing her porch step, but they both knew the real reason hummed hotter than the fermenters.

“Welcome to the temple,” she said, voice low and amused. She led him past the bright copper kettles, her boots clicking on the polished concrete. The air was rich with malt and hops, sweet and bitter at once. Cody’s gaze tracked her as she moved. She felt it like a physical touch along the small of her back, down over the swell of her ass.

She stopped at a tall stainless fermenter and bent deliberately at the waist to check a temperature gauge near the floor, giving him the full rounded view. The jeans pulled tight across her cheeks; she knew exactly what the posture did. When she straightened and turned, his eyes snapped up too late. A slow, wicked smile curved her mouth.

“Caught you,” Kayla said, stepping closer until the heat of his body brushed hers. “You’ve been staring at my ass like it’s on the tasting menu. Want a closer, more personal look, Cody? Or are we still pretending this is just about beer?”