“Ah …” Greer made no effort to lower his voice. “You done drinking for the night?”
Closing his eyes tightly, Reaper imagined the pleasure he would get from killing Greer. If he didn’t need him so badly, he would.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Greer laid a hand on his arm, then slid Reaper’s drink closer to him. “There you go. You got my money?”
Reaper took out his wallet and gave Greer two one hundred dollar bills. Greer pocketed the money and started eating as the brothers stared at Greer, dumbstruck.
Viper leaned over the bar. This time he was the one lowering his voice. “I thought you couldn’t take money for using your gift?”
“You see me do anything?”
Reaper frowned at him. He hadn’t felt anything when Greer touched him.
“No, I didn’t.” Viper furrowed his brow as if he missed something. Reaper was just as confused.
“There you go.”
No longer caring who overheard, Reaper sat and watched Greer continue to eat his meal.
“I need you to fix it where I won’t want another drink.”
Greer cocked an eyebrow at him. “You already said you didn’t want any more. What’s to fix?”
“So I won’t.”
“Then don’t.” Greer shrugged, taking a drink and making a face. “What in the fuck am I drinking?”
“A dark and stormy,” Reaper replied absentmindedly, his mind still on his problem.
“A waste of a good ginger beer and dark rum.” Greer snorted.
Viper started to take the glass away, but Greer snatched it back.
“Didn’t say I wouldn’t drink it.”
“Aren’t you working?” Viper asked.
“I’m on my dinner break.”
Viper narrowed his eyes on him. “You still have the rest of your shift to finish.”
“You see Knox standing around? You worry about you, and I worry about me.”
Reaper shook his head at Viper, trying to get Greer’s attention back to what he needed done.
“I called you, so I won’t want to take another drink.” Patiently, Reaper reexplained. He wouldn’t get anywhere if he lost his temper. “That’s what I paid you for.”
“What? You want me to say thank you?”
“No, I want you to do it.”
“Why, when you did it for yourself.” Greer gave a jut of his chin to Shade. “You got any beer behind there?”
Shade reached under the counter to get Greer a beer.
“Thankee. See? I can remember my manners.” Greer twisted the top off the beer, then went back to finishing his meal.
Irritated, Reaper tried to stare Greer into doing what he wanted.
“You wanting a burger? You know I’m not into sharing my food.”
“No, I want you to do what I paid you to do.”
“I did. Brah, if you want to pay me just to move your glass away from you when you had—” Greer broke off to stare around the group of men around the bar, then turned his eyes back on him. “—nine others around you who could have done the same thing, who am I to argue?”
“Because they can’t fix it so I won’t need another one.”
“You don’t need me to give you willpower when you have plenty of it yourself. If you wanted to move that stool you’re sitting on, would you ask me to lift it for you, or would you do it yourself?”
“I’d do it myself.”
“If you wanted to move that pool table over there, who would you ask for help?”
Reaper swallowed hard. “Any of them.”
“You already know when you can do shit for yourself, and when you need help. The only problem is you need more confidence in yourself when drinking. Any time you need me to show you, I don’t mind coming, but it just seems a waste of money when you have so many people around you willing to do it for free. But that’s me, I reckon.”
Laughter erupted in the background as another present was opened.
Turning in his seat, Reaper watched as Ginny sat on the couch, laughing hilariously as Trudy held up a bra with “Bite Me” printed on the cups.
“Boy, let me ask you a question. Were you addicted to drinking and drugs before Slade kidnapped you?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Then you aren’t now, unless I’m not as good as healing as you think I am. Then, if that’s true, you shouldn’t be wanting to call me anyway.”
Reaper turned back to Greer, forgetting the brothers were listening. “I don’t want to fail.”
“You’re not going to fail.” Greer set his beer down on the counter. “You failed when Slate locked you away. Do you see any of these asshole here going anywhere?”
Reaper looked around at the men who began to circle the bar closer to him. “No.”
“There you go then.” Greer gave him a hard smack on his shoulders. “If these assholes ever let you down, call Ginny’s brothers. Shit, there are a ton of them fuckers. ’Course none of them have my winning personality.”
“Not many do.” Reaper’s lips curled in laughter.
“Ain’t that the truth. If I could bottle myself, I’d make a fortune.”
“You going to give my two hundred back?”
“Fuck no. But, to be nice, I’ll give you a small piece of advice.”
“Free?”
Greer made a face at him. “Of course.” Wadding up his trash, he placed it back in the bag. “Don’t get addicted to the burgers at the diner. I’m gonna kill that motherfucker the next time he shorts me a hamburger.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Do you have the next tray ready?” Ginny asked. “The one in the oven is done.”
Willa hurried to the oven to take the French bread out.
Ginny wiped her hands on the dishcloth to place a trivet on the countertop. Then she went to help place the next sheet pan of bread in the oven, but Willa beat her.
“I’ve got it.”
Shrugging at her friend not wanting to help, Ginny went to the table in the kitchen and continued to make a list of supplies the club needed.
“Are there enough dishwashing tablets under the sink to get us through next month?”
Willa opened the cabinet. “Yes, the one under here is full. We’re good.”
Concentrating on the list, Ginny realized that Willa had stopped talking. Looking up, she saw that Willa had been staring at her. Had she said something? They were ahead of schedule for having dinner ready. She couldn’t think of anything that needed to be done or anything they hadn’t prepped.
“Did you need something?”
Willa walked across the room to take a seat next to her. Biting her bottom her lip as if she was hesitant to say something, she gave her a searching look. “Ginny … I know you were raised mainly in a male household, but you and Trudy spend together …”
Ginny placed her pen down on the table. “What are you trying to get out?”
“Ginny, you do know you’re pregnant, don’t you?” Willa blurted out.
Ginny picked the ink back up. “No, I’m not.”