“Sure, anytime,” she readily agreed.
He mentally reviewed possible menu choices. He considered three different recipes that were sure to impress her: two with shrimp and another with sole. He had a couple good chicken recipes, along with a few others.
“Heath?” Julia said, pulling him from his thoughts.
Looking up, Julia had a huge smile. “Come with me,” she said, and then, reading his bewilderment, added, “on the pub crawl. I have a ticket I got for my sister. Amanda intended to go and then this morning she called to say she couldn’t make it because of some quilting class she wants to take. I’d rather not go alone. The event would be much more fun if you were able to join me.”
“You’re on,” he said, grinning. Then he jokingly added, “Remember, this isn’t a date.”
She smiled. “Not a date. It’s two friends enjoying good draft beer and having fun together.”
“Count me in.”
He was in, all right. Nearly over his head when it came to this woman.
* * *
—
The thick line of people around the bar awaiting their beer made it nearly impossible for Heath to maneuver back to Julia. Loud voices echoed off the walls, making conversation difficult.
This was their second stop, and Heath held the flight of beer over his head as he waded through the mass of customers to return to Julia. She was at a high-top that was shared with a young woman who lived at The Heritage. They’d been introduced before the event, but the chatter was too loud to clearly hear her name. It sounded like Kennedy. She had a friend with her. They both taught high school—at least that’s what he thought he heard. Kennedy didn’t look much older than her students would be.
He set the beer down and claimed his seat. They were lucky to have found a table. At the first pub, they’d been forced to stand at the bar. It was something of a surprise to discover these microbrew beers were to his liking. Heath had never been much of a beer man, preferring fine single-barrel scotch or a dark red wine over canned beer.
He’d already learned the difference between IPA, ale, and lager in a short lecture given by the proprietor of the first pub. The woman had been informative and entertaining.
“You first,” Julia said, motioning toward the flight. It was suggested they start with the pale beer. The color and texture in the flight grew darker and richer as they continued sampling. Julia liked the paler beers, which he’d learned had a more distinctive flavor of hops and were closely aligned with the British ales. The IPA stood for India pale ale, which, he had been informed, was the most popular of the American craft beers.
Heath swallowed the first sip and nodded approvingly. Julia tried it next and agreed. “This is good. I’ve never really appreciated beer before.”
“A whole new experience for us both,” Heath said. He didn’t frequent taverns and rarely drank beer, unless he was with friends who did, and then only sparingly.
Julia set the pale ale aside and as best they could exchanged notes with Kennedy and her friend. Next, Heath indicated she should be the first to sample the blond. From the short lecture, he recalled the brewing process included pale malt hops and yeast. He was good at taking mental notes and was impressed with the different varieties. It was enlightening to learn how many different types of beers there were.
“What do you think?” Julia asked after he tasted the blond ale.
He nodded, giving it his limited approval. If their first stop was any indication, the darker the beer, the more he enjoyed the tasting.
He reached for the third sample, which he had learned was a German beer known as Hefeweizen. After his first sip, he frowned and handed it to Julia.
“Tell me what you taste.”
She took a tiny sample and then raised her eyes to meet his, full of question.
“Well?” he asked.
“Don’t laugh,” she said. “Banana?”
He could barely hear her above the rowdy crowd. He nodded. “I thought I was losing it. Banana flavoring in beer?”
They both laughed, the alcohol loosening them up more with each drink.
The last two tastes in the flight were a porter and a stout. They were heavy and not to Julia’s liking, so he drank them both. The flavors were strong and distinctive, to the point that he felt he could almost chew them.
By the time they left for the third of the four pubs, they were in good spirits and even a little tipsy, which surprised Heath. He wasn’t sure this heady feeling was entirely due to the alcohol. Julia had gone to his head as potently as any fine scotch. He felt at ease with her, comfortable. It had been a long time since he’d experienced anything close to what he did with her.
Had it been like this when he’d first met Lee? He couldn’t recall, and decided it was a mistake to look back instead of forward. He didn’t know what the future held when it came to him and Julia. What he did feel was encouragement and the eagerness to learn more about her. He’d basically given up on relationships, and to find a woman who seemed perfect, living right under his nose, was a complete surprise.
As they left the pub to walk to the next one on the crawl, Heath reached for Julia’s hand, using the excuse that he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd. It would have been easy to get separated. Heath was determined to hold on to this woman in more ways than simple hand-holding.
* * *
—
At the end of the evening they were on the Seattle waterfront. Heath felt the need to get some food in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten before the crawl. They passed Ivar’s, a well-known and beloved fish-and-chips restaurant.
“Are you hungry?” he asked Julia.
“I’m more drunk than hungry,” she said, smiling up at him.
It demanded every ounce of his restraint not to lean down and kiss her. Her lips were moist and parted, and her beautiful eyes smiled up at him. He’d never been one for PDAs, but for the life of him, he was tempted.
“How about fish and chips?” he said, purposely looking away.
“Not on a date, right?” she teased, slightly slurring her words.
Yup, they needed some food in their stomachs to counterbalance the beer. “Date or no date, I’m buying. You paid for the crawl tickets, so dinner is on me.”
For a moment she looked like she wanted to argue, then seemed to change her mind. “One piece of cod with a side of chowder. Their chowder is the best.”
“You got it.”
Heath approached the window and placed their food order, along with two cups of coffee. When it arrived, he carried it to a picnic table on the pier and sat across from Julia.