Page 33 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

Sid nods at me when he spots me, his eyes darting to Orion and lingering for several seconds before returning to me.

“The usual?” Sid asks, and I shake my head.

“Just one finger of Scotch tonight. Neat.”

He jerks his head in another nod and then looks over at Orion.

“Same,” he says, claiming the empty stool next to mine. Sid turns his back towards us, and Orion leans an elbow on the bar. “What’s the usual?”

I twist my expression into a grimace. “A bottle of Jameson.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he whistles. “That’ll get you fucked up.”

“That’s the idea,” I agree blandly.

“You drink like that often?” Orion’s tone is casual, but the weight of his gaze on me gives away the depth of his interest. A scowl tugs at my mouth, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to brush off the question the same way I always do when Enzo climbs up my ass about my drinking. But there’s something about Orion being concerned about me that hits differently.

I shrug one shoulder and conjure a flippant tone. “What’s often, Boss?”

An irritated noise rumbles in his throat and he leans an inch closer. “More than once a week?”

“Not since I was in my twenties.” That answer seems to satisfy him, and he leans back again, his expression smoothing out. But I’m not quite done basking in the warm glow of his concern. “Why? If I were drinking like that five nights a week, would you do something about it?”

He narrows his eyes and works his jaw as he seems to chew on the question for a moment before answering.

“Yeah, Brat. I’d do something about it.”

As simple as that. No kinky threats or anything fun. His response tilts me off balance and fills up nooks and crannies inside of me that I doubt a dirty answer would have.

Sid sets two glasses in front of us. I’m expecting him to shuffle away like he usually does, but he lingers instead. I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip while I wait to hear what he’s working himself up to saying. His fingers twitch, drumming out a nervous beat against his thigh until he finally spits it out.

“Xaviaro hasn’t been in for months. Is he… okay?”

That wasn’t what I was expecting.

I let out a chuckle. “Xav’s fine. He’s been a little…” I clear my throat and laugh again. “Tied up lately.”

The twitchy bar owner actually looks relieved to hear that our hitman is still alive and well. I’ll have to tell Xaviaro that Sid was worried about him. He’ll get a kick out of that.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he says. “And… just, no trouble tonight, huh?”

I cringe. I’d love to give him that promise, but trouble is exactly why I’m here tonight.

“How about if I promise to keep the trouble to a bare minimum?” I barter.

Sid sighs and walks away.

“I think you broke that poor man’s spirit,” Orion says with amusement heavy in his voice.

“He’ll recover,” I assure him with a smirk. “Hey, how’s your brother doing?”

Orion’s cheek twitches and he brings his drink to his lips, downing it in one gulp.

“Stable,” he answers, setting the empty glass down heavily on the bar top.

In the dim lighting of the bar, I can see the dark shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. I’m betting he needs a solid night of sleep somewhere other than a hospital room, and once we finish what we came here for, that’s exactly what Orion’s going to get. I’ll turn the tables on him and tie him to the bed if I have to this time.

I snicker to myself at the mental image of his rage-filled eyes as he thrashes, bound to my bed. He might actually kill me for that one, but it would be worth it.

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