Page 81 of Shaken Knot Stirred

He tapped two fingers on the bar. “Tequila. Double.”

“No.” I cocked my head and really looked at him. He was pretty in a waifish way. Thin, almost gaunt. His dark hair wasfashionably messy, with curls framing his vividly blue eyes. His twitchy eyes.

“The fuck? You out of tequila or something?” He matched that with a WTF hand gesture.

“That is not what you need.”

I popped a red plastic cup off the stack and let my fingers sort through all the bottles in the well. Not finding what I wanted, I turned and quickly found the vanilla vodka. I gave a little “Ooo” when I found the marshmallow flavor instead. I poured an ounce in a shaker, added white chocolate sauce, and another two ounces of well vodka. I didn’t want it too sweet. A quick shake and I poured it into the cup.

Dubious, he took a sip. A small private smile curled his pretty lips before he went back for a proper swallow.

“Go after her,” I said, leaning on the bar to make sure he heard me over the music.

“What?”

“You heard me. Do whatever it takes. Lie, cheat, steal. Put on a dress and make a scene if you have to. Your life starts where she is.” Theshepart was a guess, but I knew I was right when his aura lit up.

He let his brain chew on that for a second and downed his drink in one go.

“You got anything more?” With his emphasis on “more,” I knew he was not talking about a second round. He wasn’t close to rut, not exactly, but drugs would have him making bad decisions tonight. His aura looked like he was atoning for past deeds and spoiling for a fight.

“No, cupcake,” I said kindly as I poured him the tequila he asked for. “On the house,” I added as I put the cup in front of him.

Thick, blocky fingers snatched the cup away. “You’re not spending my booze on some tweaker,” Beg said, smacking the cup on the bar.

“Oh, if you wanted a drink, you should have asked for one.” I took the cup back and set up a shaker with fresh ice.

“I don’t think the downstairs bar has Bloody Mary mix,” Beg said, slapping the blue-eyed alpha on the back.

“I’ll make you a proper cocktail this time. My take on a Lemon Drop.” I lined up three bottles of well alcohol on the bar, two kinds of rum, tequila, making a wall between me and Beg.

He slid his arm conspiratorially around the alpha’s shoulders like two good ole boys. “See? All you have to do is threaten a girl with rut and a good time, and she gets herself right back in the kitchen.”

“So. your mama hated you and you were raised in a barn?” I chucked a handful of lemon slices into a cup and mashed it with a muddler; there didn’t seem to be whole lemons to squeeze fresh. Next was a healthy pour from the neon yellow lemon-lime soda bottle and some simple syrup. Triple sec for luck.

“We did have a barn. I think I locked Star up in a stall once.”

The alpha shrugged off Beg’s arm and attempted to flag down another bartender. No one apparently wanted to wait on the boss tonight.

“Pick your poison, Beg.” I tapped the top of the three bottles with a swizzle stick like I was a good fairy, charming them with my magic wand.

He picked the tequila. I counted out a three-ounce pour and used the swizzle stick to stir it up.

“What are you, lazy? You don’t shake your cocktails?”

I gave him a huge eye roll and made exaggerated movements to pour the drink into a shaker, giving it about five seconds of agitation.

“Not every drink needs to be shaken. You bruise the alcohol. But it’s your taste buds.” I poured the drink back in the cup and tossed in a few lemon slices for good measure.

He put the cup to his lips and downed it in one go. I stifled a smile and acted like I actually cared about his opinion.

He made a face. “Way too sweet,” he said and pitched the cup behind the bar.

“Don’t you have fights to the death to arrange or something?” I said dismissively, waving him off.

He ruffled the hair of the alpha next to him and stood, ignoring the “Get the fuck off” from the guy. Beg pulled at the cuffs of his shirt and straightened his tie.

“No drinks on the house,” he said as he swaggered off.

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