Reaper

by Lena North

  “Oh, yeah,” she said.

  “He might not –”

  “Annie,” Wilder snapped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Annie will give you a little demonstration of how we do things in the mountains,” Sloane said, suddenly speaking a little too loudly for my taste. “Go for it,” she repeated, gave me a small nudge on my back and added, “And have fun!”

  My eyes met Olly's again, and he still had a blank, set look in his. The hell with him, I decided. I would have fun and maybe make a small point at the same time. He might be the only man I wanted, but right then I felt like showing him I had other options. I wasn’t sure I actually had those options, and my show would be with a married man whose wife had given her blessing, but still. On legs that were a little shaky, I walked across the bar and stopped in front of Hawker.

  “Annie,” he murmured. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Hawker,” I said, and added, “You've not raised your daughter right.” His brows went up, and I went on, “Wilder does not know what a mountain shot is. Sloane said I should borrow you for educational purposes.”

  His eyes went to his wife, briefly. She must have sent some kind of signal because when he looked back at me, his friendly smile turned wicked and there was a glint in his eyes I’d never seen before.

  “Is that so,” he murmured lazily.

  “If you’re willing,” I said, tilted my head to the side and peered up at him through my lashes.

  It was a move I'd never done before, but it seemed to work astonishingly well. Hawker's eyes narrowed, and he stretched a hand out over the bar and snapped his fingers impatiently.

  “Jesus, Hawk,” Hare said, but I heard him move.

  “Go for it, Annie,” Hawker murmured, echoing his wife’s words.

  Slowly, I unbuttoned his black shirt all the way down to his waist and pushed it open. He didn't have a lot of chest hair, and there weren’t as many tattoos as I’d expected. Across his ribs was a short list of names in simple black letters. Wilder, Sloane, and Wildman. His wife and children, in the order they'd come into his life. Across his heart, he had an outline of the mountains he guarded so ferociously. Maybe he wasn't such a badass, after all, I thought.

  The bar was suddenly silent, but I focused on what I was doing and reached for the salt Hare had put on the bar. Then I licked my index finger and slid it slowly over the skin just above Hawker's collarbone, poured some salt there and turned to take a slice of lemon out of a grinning Miller's hand. My eyes met Hawker's, and I giggled as I put the slice between his lips. He promptly moved it a little further into his mouth and wiggled his brows.

  Jesus, I thought. What was I doing?

  Hawker must have sensed my hesitation because his hands suddenly came up to cup my hips and he squeezed gently as if he was telling me again to go for it, and not chicken out.

  What the hell, I thought.

  Then I got up on my toes, licked the salt off Hawker’s body in a couple of slow swipes, tilted my head back as I downed the shot, and got up even further to take the lemon out of his mouth.

  We didn’t kiss, exactly. Our lips touched briefly though, but Hawker pushed the lemon forward into my mouth with his tongue at the same time as he let his hands slide over my body, pulling me closer to him. He was lean and hard, and the man definitely knew how to move.

  When he finally let go of me, I turned my head to the side to spit out the lemon, and the bar erupted in loud cheers. I got up on my toes again and put my mouth by his ear.

  “In an alternate universe, I do believe you’d be on my top ten list of people I’d like to have relations with, Hawker,” I whispered.

  Then I let go of him and damned if I didn't saunter again when I walked back to my girlfriends. Halfway back I heard Hawker call out my name so I looked at him over my shoulder.

  “Ditto,” he said and winked.

  When I turned forward, I saw Olly. He was leaning his forehead on the table in front of him, and rubbing his neck with both hands. Sven was next to him, and he was grinning, but he held a hand supportively on his son’s shoulder. Kit was on Olly’s other side, laughing and giving me two thumbs up, which I thought was an uncharacteristically dorky gesture, coming from him. I blew him a kiss, which was uncharacteristic for me too, and kept walking until I reached the girls.

  “You are so lucky,” I said to Sloane as she put an arm around my shoulders.

  “I know!” she giggled and tilted her head around to laugh at Hawker, who grinned back but shook his head a little as if he thought we were crazy. “I’ll go calm him down,” she added.

  I hoped he wouldn't be angry with her, but he tucked her under his arm when she reached him and grinned down at her, so I didn't think he was. Miller said something, and they both laughed at whatever he’d said. They looked good together. Happy.

  I turned back to find Jinx, Mary, and Snow smiling widely. Bo was fanning himself with both his hands and bugging his eyes out at me, but Wilder looked like she’d smelled something foul.

  “You kissed my dad,” she said, sounding utterly horrified.

  “Not really,” I said. “There was a lemon between us.”

  “You kissed him,” she hissed. “On the mouth. Big smackaroo.”

  “Lemon,” I snapped.

  “It was just a thin slice and don’t think I didn’t see how he pushed it down your throat with his tongue.”

  Um, What?

  “He touched your butt too,” she went on and made another face.

  “He held me so I wouldn’t stumble,” I clarified.

  “You kissed my father with lots of tongue, and he had his hands all over your butt,” she hissed.

  “Wilder,” a deep voice said. “Unless you want to become an orphan, you really need to shut up.”

  Olly.

  I'd ignored him until then, but I couldn't do that anymore because he was right in front of me.

  “I get it, and I deserved it,” he said quietly.

  “I didn’t kiss him,” I said, and added stupidly, “Lemon.”

  His eyes softened, and he moved the back of his hand gently over my cheek.

  “Turn on your goddamned user id, Annie,” he said with a crooked smile.

  Then he turned and walked away, stopping briefly to say something to Mac before leaving the bar.

  “Fuck it all,” Wilder snapped.

  “What?” I asked.

  “He was supposed to go ballistic, and start fighting or something. He wasn’t supposed to be sweet and understanding. And he was absolutely not supposed to show you that he trusts you.”

  “Trusts me,” I echoed stupidly.

  “He wouldn’t leave you here, looking like you do and right after everyone has seen my goddamned father lick your tonsils unless he trusted you.”

  “He was going to puke,” Mac said.

  “I know, me too,” Wilder wailed. “Disgusting. Watching dad having his hands up her skirt –”

  “Babe,” Mac said. “Literally. He left because he was still feeling sick as a dog.”

  Oh. I giggled at the thought of how incredibly hungover Olly was, how he had looked at me before he left and how happy I felt.

  “And Hawk didn’t lick her tonsils,” Mac added. “Their lips barely touched.”

  “Thank you,” I said emphatically.

  “Had his hands all over her ass, though. You were right about that.”

  Before I could protest, someone started up music and Bo called out to us that we had to come and dance with him, so we did. We partied for hours, and I didn’t have any more shots, but I had more than one beer. Mary and Miller disappeared early, and so did Dante and Jinx, but Wilder, Snow and I pranced around with the others on the makeshift dancefloor at the back until the place was almost empty.

  Nick cornered me half way through the evening and put a finger in my face.

  “I had it drawn up,” he growled.

  “I have no idea what you�
�re talking about,” I shared when he didn’t explain.

  “My tat. It’s very cool. Her name, waves, mountains.”

  Oh.

  “And the fuck of it all is that I planned to say it was to cover the scars,” he groused.

  I started laughing, and mumbled, “Sorry.”

  “What am I going to say now?”

  “That I had a great idea?” I suggested. “Tell everyone you had to do it because Snow really liked my suggestion,” I said and added in a voice full of innuendo, “Reeeally liked it…”

  His eyes widened, and he started laughing too.

  “That might actually work,” he snorted.

  His amazing eyes were full of joy, and charisma swirled around him in a way it hadn’t back when we were in the research program.

  “You’re happy,” I said quietly.

  “Yeah,” he said. “And it’s all because of her, so having a tat with her name covering my heart is just right.”

  “So, get it,” I said. “Screw everyone else and what they think.”

  We grinned at each other, and I thought again that he’d changed so much.

  “It’s good to have you here,” he said.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll –”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted. “Just don’t.”

  I closed my mouth and stared at him, wondering if he’d also tell me I was full of shit, or perhaps that I should make Olly grovel?

  “It’s good to have you here,” he repeated. “Got some advice for you, sweetie. You’ll learn that everyone in the extended family is up in everyone’s business at all times. It’s good, and it’s sweet, and it’s super fucking annoying.”

  I blinked. Nick's words had been unexpected, but he was right. They were, and it was good, sweet, and totally super annoying.

  “You learn to live with it,” he said with a grin. “And you get good locks on your doors.”

  “What?”

  “Locks that you don’t hand out keys to. Not to anyone.”

  I started laughing, and he did too. Bo walked up to us and asked about the joke, which made Nick tell some story about Snow and how she'd handed him boxes of tampons, which really wasn't all that funny but I laughed anyway, just because I was happy. Carson joined us, and we spent a good half hour unsuccessfully trying to get him up on the dance floor. Bo gave up after five minutes and joined Snow and Wilder, and when I got that nothing would make Carson dance, I did too.

  “Wanna walk me home?” Sven asked when he’d apparently had enough.

  I grinned up at him.

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  We talked quietly as we strolled through the small mountain town, about the evening, and our visit to the spa.

  “You know I didn’t actually kiss Hawker, right?” I asked when we walked up the steps to the front door.

  “I know,” he said, although he sighed and added, “Will have a few words with him about where he put his hands, though.”

  I changed into one of Olly’s old tees, cleaned off the makeup, brushed the hairspray out of my hair and got into bed. I watched my phone for the longest time, not sure what to do but at the same time knowing exactly what I wanted to do. Let him sweat, they'd said. To hell with that, I decided. Then I logged on and activated my user.

  “Hey?”

  I almost dropped the phone when I got a message from Olly within seconds.

  “You got home alright?”

  The cursor next to my name blinked, and then I knew what I had to do. I went into the profile settings and changed my id. I wouldn’t be Bree ever again.

  I would be Annie. Or, Annie246 since there were apparently many others with that name.

  “Totally,” I wrote, and hit enter.

  It took him a long time to answer, and I'd started to worry that I'd misunderstood.

  “Annie…”

  I blinked, thinking that yeah. I had totally misunderstood. He was going to –

  “I thought I could do this on the net but I can’t. Can I see you tomorrow?”

  Do what over the net? Break up with me? He’d already done that, and in person, so how hard could it be?

  “Do what?” I asked and braced.

  His reply came instantly.

  “Grovel.”

  The warm, soft feeling in my belly returned, and I smiled.

  “Yes. You can see me tomorrow,” I wrote, and hit enter. Feeling happier than I had in a long time, I giggled a little, and added, “Totally.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’m sorry

  I had planned to take a shower, dress in something cute and maybe even put on some makeup before Olly came to see me, but that didn’t happen. I woke early and stumbled into the kitchen still wearing Olly’s old tee and with a rat’s nest of hair in my eyes, to find him sitting there with a cup of coffee.

  “Um,” I said, pushed the hair out of my eyes, and added, “Well, shit.”

  Then I turned around and fought my instinct to pull the tee tighter around me so he wouldn’t see my polka dot patterned pink cotton panties as I walked up the stairs.

  “Annie,” Olly called out softly, “No rush.”

  “Okay,” I murmured, wondering what the hell I was going to do.

  After a short debate with myself, weighing the merits of gorgeousness against honesty, I decided that I had looked fabulous the night before, but now it was time to go back to the real me. I dressed in one of my own tank tops and a pair of old jeans, eschewed socks but pulled a brush through my hair. I thought about using some of the enormous selection of makeup they’d given me at the spa but decided against it, which was good because it was still at Mary’s place anyway. My legs were a little wobbly when I walked downstairs again.

  “Hey,” I said, and he raised his head slowly.

  “Hey,” he rumbled but didn’t move.

  “Do you want coffee?” I asked, slapped myself mentally because he had a cup already, and added, “Breakfast?”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  “Okay,” I murmured and walked to the coffee pot, carefully avoiding brushing against him.

  He came up behind me as I reached for a cup, and got one down for me. Then he filled it to the rim and put the pot back in its holder. I didn't move, but he turned us gently until he was leaning on the counter and I was facing him. He had a gray, tight tee on which I hadn't seen before, and I studied the black print as if I would find a secret map to the holy grail in it, unsure of what to say, or do.

  He pushed my chin up, and I looked into his sweet, brown eyes.

  “Olly,” I whispered.

  They’d told me to play hard to get but it was all there in my voice, and it did in no way communicate that I was a cool chick and he should start groveling. It said, “I love you so much, and you’ve already got me.”

  Maybe I was an idiot after all, but I didn’t know how else to be.

  “Annie,” he murmured and put a hand on my cheek. “I love that you don’t know how to play games, but you have to let me tell you I’m sorry.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling like a fool.

  “Love your hair,” he said and moved his hand to let his fingers slide through it.

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  He leaned down slowly to put his mouth softly on mine, and I smiled into the kiss. His hands moved, and I felt them slide over my back to cup my behind, pushing me upward and closer to him.

  “Shit,” a voice said. “Leaving.”

  I jerked back, my eyes met Olly's, and I breathed, “Did that just happen?”

  “If you mean that Da walked in to see my hands on your butt, then yeah,” he said. Then he frowned, and let go of me. “I didn’t come here for… I’m sorry Annie. Drink your coffee, I’ll talk to Da.”

  He walked out of the kitchen without another word, and I stared at the doorway where he’d disappeared. He had not come for what? And what was he going to say to his father, exactly?

>   “Good morning, Annie. And how are you doing on this fine day?”

  The vulture was apparently annoyingly perky in the mornings.

  “Shut up,” I muttered, and took a deep swig of coffee.

  “It doesn’t work when the man says it so it won’t work for you,” he informed me calmly. “You should take the coffee outside so we can have a short chat.”

  “Shut the –”

  “Outside, please.”

  Goddamned bird, I thought, as I shrugged into Olly's flannel jacket and a pair of sneakers. Then I walked outside, snagging a blanket from the couch on the way. When I was sitting on the lawn, the bird came flying and sat down in front of me. A couple of dragonflies buzzed around us, and they chirped out their usual symphony of happy expletives.

  “You absolutely have to stop throwing yourself at him,” the bird said.

  I tried to protest because I had most certainly not thrown myself at him. Exactly.

  “He knows how you feel, you know how he feels, but you have to let him explain. It will make him unhappy if he can’t explain.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure of what Olly felt, but the bird had a point. I'd done some stupid things, and Olly had said some really shitty things, so we had to talk.

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  “Good. I think it would be best if you stayed here. The man can sit where I sit, and you will not touch him until he has said what he needs to say.”

  Was I receiving instructions from a bird on how to conduct a conversation with someone who might or might not end the day as my boyfriend?

  “Are you some kind of counseling service?” I asked sourly.

  “Am I wrong?” he countered.

  Well, shit. He probably wasn’t.

  “You could be.”

  “I’ve known him longer than you,” he snapped.

  “Okay, alright. I’ll sit here. He will talk, I will listen. Happy now?”

  “Very,” he said primly. “You looked pretty last night.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” I said.

  “I heard some of the men talk about you. They were wondering if they could dance with you or if the man would kill them. I think he would have and they thought so too, but who knows. He was not feeling well so perhaps –” He cut himself off and looked to the side. “Oh-oh,” he said and flew off.