“Actually, they’re cousins,” Finn said. “Their grandfathers were the original brothers and left the brewery to their sons, who left it to their sons—these guys.”

“Fun. I love a place with history.” I removed my notebook from my bag and scrawled, Brothers. A family affair now run by two cousins.

“Lots of history in New York City, right?” Finn motioned to Cousin Number Two, who’d looked up from his stack of bills.

“Can I get you something?” His deep voice was a contrast to his youthful attire of cargo shorts and a T-shirt.

“Do you have a menu?”

“We have Brothers light or Brothers dark.”

I blinked. Those were my only choices—light or dark? “Do you have a pale ale or a wheat beer?”

He brushed a hair from his eye. “Just light or dark.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’ll take a light.”

Finn coughed into his hand.

“A dark. I’ll have a dark.”

Finn muttered, “Wise choice.”

I shook my head. How would I describe this place in my story? Brothers turns the brewery world on its head with only two varieties of beer on the menu. It could work. I groaned inwardly. It wouldn’t work. “There’s a bar in the city with only a light and dark beer, but it also has a ton of history and this whole ambience thing going for it, to make up for the lack of variety and pathetic menu of Saltines and mustard.” Atmosphere of any sort was decidedly missing from this place, unless “dark and dusty with a two-item menu” counted as ambience.

“McSorley’s?”

My head whipped back. “Yes! You know of it?”

“It’s kind of famous.”

“True.” I took a sip from the glass Cousin Number One had placed in front of me and puckered my lips. It wasn’t the best beer I’d ever had, but it wasn’t the worst either. It was just kind of there.

“What do you think?”

I hesitated. Would Finn be insulted on behalf of the town if I told him how unimpressed I was? “It’s a beer.”

“Indeed it is. Cheers.” He clinked his almost-empty glass of dark against mine. “How was your pie?” His lips quirked with amusement.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m guessing you knew about the no-bakery-on-premises deal, huh? Does this town have something against sweets? A diabetes epidemic or something?”

He laughed. “Not that I know of. You were so excited. I couldn’t bear to squash your dream.”

“Well, now I’m dreaming of a different sort of pie. The Oven is on my itinerary for dinner tomorrow, for delicious, knock-off-my-socks pizza.” The decision was made right then and there, but why not?

“You surprise me.”

I took another sip of beer and placed the glass in front of me. “How so?”