Page 55 of Saint's Sinner

“Nope, I was just showing him where everything was when Saint asked for a drink.”

“Alright, let’s see how this plays out,” Mark said. “Scout, set me up with a Flamin’ Ba Jesus, a Crash Dummy, Liquid Cocaine, and the Knucklehead.”

“And you can get me a Titty Show, a Puckered Nipple, a Flaming Orgasm and a Flying Fuck.”

“Might as well make me a boilermaker, a Snake Bike, a Kamikaze, a Busted Shovel, and a Boston Bitch,” Saint tossed in.

“Teddy, you can sit your ass down and keep your mouth shut, I wanna see how he handles all that without you stickin’ your nose in.”

“But I still haven’t showed him where…” Teddy began, only to snap his mouth shut when Mark and Kat turned twin glares on him.

Scout still didn’t look ruffled and Saint watched with shocked intrigue as Scout quickly skimmed his gaze over the shelves, located the appropriate glasses and started pulling together the drinks.

“Looks like we’re all catching a buzz before four,” Mark said after checking his watch and beckoning for Teddy to come around and sit on their side of the bar.

Saint observed the efficient way Scout moved and the way he didn’t hesitate until he got to the Boston Bitch. He slid Saint his first four drinks, licked his lips, then flashed a flirty smile as he leaned against the bar in front of him.

“I know a bitch from Boston, but I’ve never heard of a Boston Bitch,” Scout said. “I can make it if you tell me what’s in it.”

“Nothing,” Saint admitted. “I was fuckin’ with you to see if you’d try to bullshit your way through it or own up to not knowing what the fuck it was.”

“Guess he passed that test,” Mark said.

“Pours a bit heavy though,” Kat grumbled over the top of her Flying Fuck.

“Sorry ma’am,” Scout said. “Heavy is the way my brother taught me.”

“Taught you a lot for someone who claims they aren’t an official bartender.”

“Because I’m not. Just a hang around who learned how to make himself useful.”

“Really, let me see that ink you’re sporting,” Mark said as he gestured to the tattoo on the side of Scout’s neck that had left Saint both curious and dreading what Teddy had invited through their doors. Sure as shit, it was a three headed hound spitting fire from the center head while it stood on a mound of old skulls and bones.

“Hang arounds don’t get ink like this.”

“They do if they earn it,” Scout remarked, tilting his chin up with what could only be described as pride tinged with arrogance.

“If you earned that then where is the patch that goes with it?”

“Unrequested.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?” Teddy interrupted. “He wasn’t kicked out of a club, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Among other things, like when you’ll learn to keep your mouth shut unless someone is talking to you.”

Once again, his words and the look he shot teddy produced sullen silence from the smaller man who’d been his longtime lover.

“I wasn’t a prospect,” Scout said. “My brother wouldn’t allow it. I hung out there when he let me, I jumped behind the bar when the club needed someone to sling drinks, and I did anything else they needed me to for as long as they let me be there.”

“Which ended when?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Why?”

“My brother told me to steer clear because he had another job for me that they wouldn’t like.”

---