Emmy said, hands on her hips, looking disappointed when she should be looking guilty. Cameron Crawford checked the temperature of the mash for The Four Sisters’ newest summer ale. Eric Strand, the brewery manager, and his crew were attending to the fermentation tanks and Emmy was being a pain in Cameron’s ass, so he ignored her. Until he couldn’t hold on to his temper for another second. “You’re actually surprised I’m upset that you joined some dating cult thing and used my name and picture without my permission? I know you weren’t raised by wolves but only because you’re my sister. What the hell were you thinking?” Emmy narrowed her eyes. “So I should just tear this card up right now.” “Yes,” he said. “Please. Do that.” She laughed. He didn’t care for the sound of it. “You might be a brainiac chemist with a doctorate, little brother, but sometimes you’re as dumb as a box of rocks.”
