Page 37 of Their Property
“Yeah,” he muttered distractedly, returning to pouring. “It’s gonna take a while though. They’re short on meat, so he’s gotta run to the butcher.”
“Oh, wow!” Kyrie smacked her lips adorably and sniffed the beer again. “That’s really good, but it’s…a little spicy?”
All eyes went to T-Bone. “Wha?” Grudge demanded, spreading his hands wide.
“It’s infused with habanero peppers.” Our president grinned. “Brewer’s special.”
“Sneaky dog,” Kyrie chided, but smiled as she took another sip. “I have to take this slowly, but it’s really good! Just enough to warm me up.”
“Can I try it?”
She passed me the pint, our fingers brushing as the glass transferred hands. I didn’t normally care for cask ale, but she was right, it was good.
“I might have to get one with dinner,” I said, handing it back to her.
“Can I try yours?”
All three of us chuckled, but it was Grudge who handed his whiskey tumbler to her. He pinched his thumb and forefinger close together, indicating she should take a small sip. Kyrie nodded and did so, but apparently it wasn’t small enough.
She coughed and shuddered, her face reddening through the grimace she made.
“Aw, poor thing. Take it easy.” T-Bone rubbed her arm for a moment before pulling his hand away quickly. “I’ll get you some water.” He stood and headed straight for the bar.
“How can you guys—ugh—drink that?” Kyrie handed the glass back to Grudge and went for her beer.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I said. “Are you okay?” T-Bone returned with a glass of water and she nodded while gulping it down gratefully.
“It’s much more palatable with a cigar,” T-Bone laughed sympathetically.
Kyrie’s eyes brightened. “Do you have another one?”
“No! Down girl, that was my only one.” He laughed, claiming the spot next to her on the couch. “You’ve gotta ease into these illicit substances, little lady. Can’t go diving in headfirst.”
“Hm, if you insist.” Kyrie kicked off her shoes, then curled her feet underneath her on the couch, sinking into the cushions. Her upper body leaned slightly toward T-Bone, but there was nothing subtle about how they eye-fucked each other.
“So, what has the Sons of Odin MC been up to these last few years?” She propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, leaning her cheek on her fist. “Spending much time in the politician’s bodyguard field?”
“Huh, no,” I scoffed, swirling my drink. “Protecting people is a new field for us.”
“That’s an interesting choice of words.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been protecting something else then?”
“Oh, she’s good.” T-Bone leaned back, bringing an arm behind his head. “You try to be sly, D, but she sees right through it.”
“What, then?” Kyrie looked at Grudge, but he grinned and shrugged, playing coy. “Come on, you guys know I won’t say anything.”
“What we’re imbibing right now.” T-Bone gently clinked his glass against hers.
Kyrie looked at him. “Protecting alcohol?”
“Among other things. How do you think it gets here without being stolen?”
“I figured it was just made here, I guess.”
“Some of it is, but that’s more risky,” I said. “It takes weeks, if not longer, for good alcohol to be made drinkable. It’ll sell in a fraction of that time.”
“And because it’s illegal,” Kyrie said carefully. “It’s in high demand and goes for a high price.”
“Mm-hm.” Grudge nodded at her observation and reached over the arm of our couch to touch his glass to hers.
