Ma catches my eye and raises her eyebrow in question, silently asking if I’m alright and I give her a small nod. She nods in return and goes back to her rounds, checking to make sure no one needs anything.
As I step behind the bar, the guys sit back down at their table, but when I spy the glass filled with ice, I remember I was getting a drink for Reaper before getting interrupted.
“Your drink,” I say as I ditch the glass and fill a new one with fresh ice. Reaper leans against the bar and I pause. “Still want me to surprise you?”
He grins as he nods, and I have to fight not to blush again. And to not ogle his muscles as he leans against the bar. Especially the breathtaking color tattoos on his right arm.
I shake myself internally, once again, and pour two ounces of rum into the glass. With shaky fingers, I grab a lime wedge and squeeze the juice into the drink.
Mentally, I try and tell myself to get a grip. Once again, a thought pops into my head. I’ve never reacted like this to anyone, not even Aiden. Why am I now? But then again, no one as hot as Reaper has ever looked at me like this.
Then my heart sinks as I remember overhearing conversations about some of the parties that go on at their clubhouse. I don’t want a one-night stand. I want more. And I doubt I’ll get that with a biker.
With that realization, I feel my body calming down as if I’ve stepped into a cold shower. With steadier hands, I top off the drink with some ginger beer. Not ginger ale, ginger beer. I’ve found that the stronger flavors and spicy bite to the ginger beer pairs better with the rum than ginger ale does. To top it off, I add a slice of lime and place it on the bar as I smile.
“Dark and stormy, on the house.”
Chapter 8
Reaper
Asthedoorshutsbehind that cunt Kelly and the fucking Coxes, the knot in my chest loosens slightly. I barely hear Lark apologizing to the other customers, but from the looks on everyone’s faces, they’re behind her one hundred percent in this shit show. More than once, I saw a few people look like they wanted to deck the fuckers. Even Kelly a few times. Time will deal out karma to them. Karma that my brothers and I will dole out, if need be, and that assurance loosens the knot in my chest even further.
Lark steps forward, and instantly, my fingers twitch with wanting to have her back in my arms again.
“Thank you all for standing up for me and supporting me.” She swallows thickly, and a nervous look crosses her face.
Thank fuck we were here tonight, though our arrival was purely by chance. I don’t want to think what could have happened if Lark had to endure that all by herself. However, from the talk around town, I knew she would have been ableto handle it. She pulled a double-barreled shotgun on them the other night for fuck’s sake, but I was glad she didn’t have to face them alone tonight.
Looking down at her, I smile. “Of course, Lark. No one should have been subjected to that.” I pause, wanting to make sure she is paying attention for this next part. “You and your family are a staple in this community. I don’t think, especially after tonight, that you’ll have to worry about anything. But if you do, we’re here for you.”
It’s as much as I can commit to right now. I’ll be her friend and look out for her and her family, but I can’t drag her into our world. I’ve always had a gut feeling about Lark and for years I’ve wanted her as my woman. Whenever we talked, which was usually at the supper club, conversation flowed naturally. I was always drawn to her and being around her calmed me. That’s probably why I frequent the supper club so much. Fuck, some of my behavior might even be considered stalkerish since I also follow everything she posts on social media. However, Lark’s, too pure, too good for someone who has as much blood on their hands as I do.
She blushes and fuck does that pink stain on her cheeks make her even more fucking gorgeous than she already is. She swallows thickly and nods. “Still, thank you.”
The corner of my lips kicks up, but then my stomach sours. She should never have to thank me for anything. Before I can say that though, she steps around me and heads back toward the bar.
Devil clasps my shoulder. “You’re fucking stupid, man. You should go for it,” he says under his breath.
Devil’s one of the few that knows about my obsession with Lark, but every time I say she’s not meant to be in our world, he just shakes his head and calls me a fucking idiot. Maybe I am, but I’ll just have to deal with being her friend and protector.I’ve known Lark for years—fuck, I was a couple of grades ahead of her in school. Back then, she had out shone everyone, and though she was shy, she still had a way of drawing people to her. Something she still possesses today.
Following Lark, my gaze snags on her perfect ass as she walks. She’s dressed in her usual wardrobe—black jeans and a black polo with their logo on it, a picture of a cabin overlooking a lake with the forest in the background and a bear walking nearby. Underneath that is their name, Great Bear Supper Club. She’s wearing black boots, which is probably a must for traction on the mats that are behind the bar, and her long, brown hair is pulled back from her face in a loose braid. Her makeup is subtle, and instead of looking caked on like Kelly’s and Jessica Cox’s, hers enhances her beauty.
“Oh, your drink,” she says and her voice has me blinking out of my thoughts. She cocks an eyebrow in question at me. “Still want me to surprise you?”
I lean against the bar, grinning as I nod, and she starts preparing my drink after getting a fresh glass. When she turns around to grab something from under the counter, bending to do so, I suck in a breath again as my gaze snags on her perfect ass. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have her pressed against me, or better yet, under me. Shaking myself internally, I try to clear the lust in my veins. She’s too pure, I remind myself over and over.
Lark turns back around, and pink stains her cheeks as she catches me staring at her. I should try to hide the fact that I was checking her out, but I don’t. The corner of my lips kicks up into a small grin, and the blush on her cheeks darkens as she finishes making my drink.
I nod at the fact that she chose the Goslings Black Seal rum. It’s good rum but I don’t drink it too often. Normally when I’m at the clubhouse or around home, I stick to beer.
Her gaze snags again on my arms, in particular my right arm and my sleeve tattoo, and I have to bite back a groan when her teeth sink into her lower lip as her chocolate eyes darken. A moment later, it’s almost like she’s been doused with ice water, and her happy expression and rosy cheeks fade.
I don’t like it.
Especially since I’m almost positive I know where her mind went. But then I curse myself internally again. I’m not here to make her mine. I’m here to protect her.
“Dark and stormy, on the house.”