Chapter Twenty
Boone
I leaned my elbow against the table as I lifted my beer to take a long drag, setting it down with a sigh. “Damn, that’s some good beer.”
Walker, usually rather quiet, nodded firmly. “Damn straight. There are so many breweries,” he began, using air quotes with his fingers around breweries, “that you never know which ones are actually any good. This place is good.”
“I even like their wine,” Dawson offered with a slow grin.
“Agreed. I had some of their wine at the fundraiser they did for the rescue program a few months back. All they served was wine. I guess they think rich people only drink wine,” I commented.
Jackson threw his head back with a laugh. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t decide on the drink menu.”
“Me neither,” his girlfriend, Shay, chimed in. “When they of
