Page 20 of Reaper

I cock an eyebrow at her at that last bit, because I sure as shit am going to be paying for this drink. Lifting the glass, I take a sip, and damn does it go down smooth. I frown as I try to place the flavors.

“Bold but spicy, with a bit of caramel and… something else?” My brow furrows as I think, but I just can’t place it.

Lark chuckles and fuck does the throaty sound go straight to my cock. “A little bit of toffee and vanilla. Do you like it? I saw you ordered whiskey on the rocks earlier and decided to take a chance and go in the opposite direction. While similar, whiskey and rum are also very different.”

I nod as I take another sip, and her eyes sparkle as she smiles, happy that I like the drink.

“How are they different?” I’ve never really thought about the differences between the drinks, but judging by how her face lights up even more, it was the right question to keep her talking to me. Turns out, I’ve already become addicted to the sound of her voice.

“Well, rum is made from sugarcane, while whiskey is made from grains, like wheat, rye, and barley. Rum is usually sweeter, whereas whiskey is a bit more smoky. The color is also different. Whiskey is usually brown or amber and rum is either clear or dark. And don’t even get me started on how bad other rums tasteif you try to use them in this drink—,” she pauses, almost as if she just realized she was about to go on a tangent. Her cheeks pinken and she ducks her head slightly. “Sorry, I tend ramble a lot when I’m talking about drinks—either mixed ones or brewing them.”

Fuck, I could listen to her talk for forever. I grin slightly as that gorgeous blush deepens. “It’s alright.”

I’m cut off by the sound of a machine near the register that starts spitting out tickets and Lark pins them to some sort of contraption on the ledge of the bar facing her that holds the tickets in place.

“So, what else is different about them? If you don’t mind me asking?” She hesitates and I realize I probably overstepped. “Sorry, I should let you get back to work. I didn’t mean to keep you. It just sounded interesting and it’s obvious that it’s a passion of yours.”

She stares at me in shock, her lips parting slightly before she blinks and seems to shake herself internally. Has no one ever noticed how passionate she gets? My mind immediately goes to that Aiden fucker. He probably never even showed a lick of interest in learning about her. She blushes again.

“No, it’s fine if you stay.”

Lark starts mixing the first drink, and it’s obvious by her motions that she knows this bar like the back of her hand. She doesn’t guess where something is—she knows exactly where every item is stocked. In other bars, I’ve seen bartenders shuffling between rows of spirits and liquor to find the right bottle. I’ve also seen other bartenders referring to a book on how to make mixed drinks. Granted, they could have been new, but I highly doubted it in some cases.

“I’ve been mixing drinks for years. Ever since I was kid I have been interested in the science behind mixology and brewing. I think I was around ten or eleven when Pappy and GrandpaGeorge started explaining to me how they make their beers. Since then, brewing, mixing drinks, and learning the history about them has become one of my hobbies.” She pauses as she places a drink on a tray with its ticket toward the other end of the bar. As she walks back toward me, she grabs a few bottles off the back wall. “So, about those differences.”

I’m not sure how long we’ve been talking when Lark’s mom, Emma, brings my plate up to the bar without a word. Lark smiles softly at Emma, and as Emma is about to head through the door to the kitchen, she mouths ‘thank you’ to me behind Lark’s back. I tilt my head at her. There’s no way I could have just stood by and let Lark deal with that shitstorm on her own. Even if I wasn’t into her, I would have stepped in. I can’t stand that kind of shit.

As Lark and I continue talking, the anxiety that had been previously coursing through her ever since Kelly and the Coxes showed up seems to leave her. I also learn that not only does Lark enjoy brewing her own beer, she also loves to carve wood, bow hunt, and read in her spare time.

Someone pats me on the shoulder and I turn to see Devil and my other brothers standing behind him.

Turning back to Lark, I nod. “Looks like we’re heading out. See you around, Lark, and don’t forget, that offer is still good if you need anything.”

She blushes and nods. “Again, thank you, all of you, for standing up for me tonight. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Devil says roughly as he waves off her thanks. “We’ll be back again. The food is fu—I mean, freaking delicious.” He pauses at that before paling slightly and turning toward Odin. I bite my tongue to keep from laughing at him trying not to curse due to kids being nearby. “No offense to Mama Astrid’s cooking, that is.”

Odin chuckles and shakes his head at Devil. “This is a favorite of ours too, so no need to worry.” He pauses and turns back toward Lark, giving her a chin lift. “Thanks again, Lark. We’ll be seeing you.”

Placing my hand on the black server book that’s on the bar, I tap it and give Lark another nod before following my brothers outside. I left a hefty tip for her, including paying her for the dark and stormy that she’d made me. No way was I going to accept a free drink from her.

Once we’re out in the cool spring air, I take a deep breath as I stride over to my motorcycle. This is one of my two motorcycles and it’s the first one that I’d bought when I became President of the Junction Creek chapter of the Steel Archangel’s. It’s a black Harley Davidson with muted red swirls and streaks on the tank. I even custom ordered my black saddle bags to have red stitching on them instead of black.

My second bike is also a black Harley Davidson with metallic black ghost flames on it that are only visible from a certain angle. I bought that bike after an accident last summer. An asshole had clipped me while my nephew, Chris was riding with me and we went down hard. My bike was fucked, but it was nothing compared to what had happened to Chris.

A hard clap on my shoulder breaks my thoughts and I look over to find Punisher grinning wickedly at me. “You are so fucked, Reap.”

I grunt, because I’d already come to that conclusion five minutes into talking to her. Lark is fucking perfect and afterhearing her sass and how she’s handled a few situations, I know she wouldn’t get walked all over by the bunnies or the guys. Not that the guys would give her a lot of shit, but we’re a rough group. Lark could definitely handle my world… but would she be able to handle my darkness and the bloodshed we need to sometimes spill?

Someway, somehow, I need to find a way to figure this out. It’s not like I can outright ask her. That’s a surefire way to have her running in the other direction. But fuck do I want Lark to be my woman someday.

Then my stomach sinks and I shake my head. “She just got out of a nasty relationship. She needs time.”

Odin gives me a chin lift, pride shining through his eyes as he clasps my other shoulder. “Good man, but in the meantime, nothing wrong with getting to know her better.”

I grunt again as I mount my bike, because that’s exactly what I’d planned to do.

Ten minutes later, I pull up to my house at the compound and shut off my bike. Already, I can hear Igor barking from inside. Grinning, I shake my head and walk up the steps of my deck to the front door.