Page 26 of On The Rocks

I glanced up from my notebook, surprised that he’d slipped away from her so quickly. “Yeah, we’ve been busting our butts.”

“It shows. Did you move stuff around?” He leaned his elbows on the bar, facing toward the dining room, which allowed me an unfettered look at his ink. It was a sleeve full of smaller tattoos that had been layered on one another.

“The second bar was extended.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He straightened and the dip in his lower back made my mouth water. There was something aboutthat part of a man’s anatomy that always fascinated me, and Griffin had an exceptional ass to boot. “How did I not notice that?”

I dragged my gaze back up and busied myself with the mess Dean had left behind. “Because it was covered when you were last in.”

He twisted back around, and I pushed the drink in front of him. “Compliments of Dean.”

He glanced at the cherries then he returned his attention to me. Dean had skewered a cherry on a black plastic sword with a curl of orange peel he’d used to flavor the rim. “Is this going to knock me on my ass?”

He shifted onto a stool and curled his fingers around the base of the glass, spinning it on the coaster. His attention was on the slight fizz at the top—or maybe he wasn’t seeing it at all.

I didn’t want it to be weird with us, and I instinctively reached over the bar to cover his wrist.

He looked up, locking his gaze on mine.

I pulled my hand back, but he reached out and grabbed it, covering it with his much larger one. The blunt fingers weren’t exactly elegant. He had worker’s hands with calluses from helping out on the orchard renovations, but the little ones on his fingertips made the little hairs on my arm stand up.

From the guitar.

He squeezed, then he let me go. “Sorry about the other day. The conversation with Kain dragged up old shit.”

“No big deal.” I nodded to the drink. “You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry.” He lifted the glass, grinned over the rim, and tipped it up, swallowing hard. His strong throat was covered with more dust, as well as stubble that swirled around his Adam’s apple that worked as he took a long drink.

Good grief, what was wrong with me?

I busied myself checking over the ingredients list that I’d put together. I wanted to make a few changes to the Moscow Mule-style drink with the ginger cider base. When I looked up, he was just slipping a cherry into his mouth, thanks to the little plastic sword Dean had garnished the glass with.

The way his teeth tore through the skin gave me a moment—big-time.

I was thankful for the three layers of tanks I was wearing under my vest. I definitely needed the barrier.

He grinned down at his drink. “As you can see, I enjoyed it.” He tipped it back again to get to the cherries at the bottom of the glass. “Dangerous.”

That was one word for it.

“I’ll put you in theyescolumn.”

“You can test out whatever you want on me.” He slid off the stool. “However, I’m not in any shape for people. I figured the taproom would be empty.”

“What were you doing?” I pointed at his shirt.

He looked down and winced. “That was from helping Kain with my AC unit.”

“Was it the size of a car?”

He laughed. “Felt like it when we muscled it in from his truck. Kain had to do some crazy retrofitted thing. I don’t know how he does what he does, but I’m grateful. The afternoons are already hot, so I’d be sunk in July.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You haven’t seen the Starling.”

I shook my head. “Who came up with the bird names?”

“Guess.” He tucked the plastic sword in the side of his mouth in lieu of his usual toothpick.

“Kain.”

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