Chapter 31

Then Eric handed her a cold bottle. “What kind is this?” she asked.

He shrugged, taking a swig from his own bottle. “The guy brews his own. Hey, Rog? What kind is this?”

“Jalape?o IPA,” came back the shouted answer.

Jenny sniffed at the cool mist swirling from the bottleneck. “I don’t even know what that means. Is it hot?”

“How can it be hot?” Eric asked with a laugh. “It’s fresh out of the cooler. It’s good. Try it.”

Tentatively she took a sip. It tasted like beer—regular plain old beer. Nothing hot or spicy about it. “Why’s he call it jalape?o?”

Eric half-turned to mutter, “Don’t ask. He’s sort of a beer snob, and he’ll seriously talk your ear off if you let him.”