I’ve broken wild horses that were easier to tame than Brooklyn Dyer.
The moment she conquered my mechanical bull in those tight jeans and that ridiculous tourist cowboy hat, I knew she was trouble.
The kind of trouble you spend all night praying never ends and a decade trying to forget.
But Monday morning brings a punch to the gut I never saw coming—she’s sitting across from me at our family brewery’s board meeting. Not just as some new hire, but as our social media director with plans to make me the damn poster boy for Slade Brewing.
