CHAPTER TWO
Parker
My words had the desired effect on Raven Archer.
The steak she’d been holding in her hand clattered off the grill and to the wooden floor of the porch when she dropped it. Her dark hair swung around her shoulders with her smooth turn to face me.
Annoyance immediately flashed in her bright, blue eyes as they fixated on me. Nothing had changed—she still had that quick, fiery temper that was oddly attractive on her, and she was still unable to control it, if the pursing of her bright, red lips was anything to go by.
“Wonderful,” she said slowly, keeping her gaze trained on my face. “You’re not just an asshole anymore. You’re a pervy asshole.”
My lips quirked to one side. “I’ve been called worse.”
She rolled her eyes and spun back around. She grabbed the cooking tongs from the hook and moved for the first steak.
“You’re flipping it wrong,” I told her for no other reason than to annoy the shit out of her. There was no wrong way as long as it didn’t break.
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you do it differently in New York?” she fired back at me, flipping the second steak exactly the way she did the first. “Because let me tell you all the ways I give a fuck.”
She didn’t continue talking.
“Is that because you don’t give a fuck or are you trying to put your words together?”
“I actually have the perfect words put together for you: Fuck off.”
I grinned. “Do you want your gold star now?”
“Is it hard enough to shove up your ass? If so, hand it over.”
“Oh god,” Ryan groaned as he walked outside. “You’re fucking adults. Can’t you be nice?”
“No.” Raven put the tongs down and turned to face him. “Not when you leave him unsupervised. You know he needs minding or he misbehaves.”
I snorted. “You’re the one barely dressed.”
“I’m an adult. I can wear what I want.”
“He has a point,” Ryan agreed warily. “There isn’t much fabric on that dress.”
Raven hit him with a look so piercing I felt it. “Compared to the things your ex-girlfriend wore, I’m practically dressed for Church.”
“It’d go up in flames if you walked in there,” I said, perching against the end of the table and stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Demons can’t enter holy buildings.”
That sharp gaze snapped from Ryan to me. She held it with an unwavering intensity.
I was almost impressed.
“Ryan, control your pet.”
She couldn’t have injected anymore snark into that line if she’d tried. I don’t know if it was meant to annoy me, but all it did was make me laugh. Her attempts to bite back to my uncontrollable need to annoy her were more cute than they were offensive.
“Can’t you two just be nice?” Alexandra Archer asked, stepping onto the porch with a bowl of salad in her hands.
“No,” Raven snapped to her mom. “Not as long as he opens his mouth.”
Behind Alexandra, my mom rolled her eyes. “Parker, you’re twenty-eight. Control yourself, please.”
I held up my hands and stepped back. “Don’t blame me if she takes something the wrong way. I was paying her compliment.”
“In what state is “I thought you were wearing that for my benefit” a compliment?” Raven slammed the tongs down on the grill. Once again, her hair swung as she spun to face me, and she had to free a few strands from her lips.
“That’s clearly me telling you that you look nice.”
Her jaw drops. “That’s not even close to that. Next time, I’d advise using “You look nice,” you moron.”
Both our moms rubbed their foreheads.
“I get it.” Ryan shrugged, and I nodded to him.
“Whose side are you on?” Raven demanded. “I’m your sister.”
“Oh no, Parker, don’t be a dick to my sister,” he replied flatly.
I coughed to hide my laugh.
“Ryan,” Alexandra said sharply. “Sit down.”
I dipped my head so I didn’t laugh when he did it.
“Gee, Parker.” Raven tilted her pretty head to the side, a dirty smirk teasing her full lips. “Do you think your mom would like the fact you’re laughing right now?”
My amusement vanished in an instant. I glared at her, and as her smile widened, I knew exactly what was about to happen.
The sharp sting of my mom’s hand clipping me around the back of the head radiated across my scalp.
“Sit down, Parker,” she said, just as sharply. “Show some restraint. I raised you to be a gentleman, not an uncouth horror.”
Raven grinned. She was obviously trying not to laugh because that smile was a little too wide.
“Fuck you,” I mouthed to her before I turned and sat down at the table.
She didn’t respond. She’d won the first round, and she damn well knew it. My mom would always side with her, mostly because she knew that if I pushed her too far she’d probably lose control of that hot little temper of hers and do some damage.
We all remembered the summer of two-thousand-and-seven. She was seventeen and just caught her boyfriend making out with the head cheerleader.
Long story short, it took her six months to earn enough money to pay her parents back for the windshield they had to replace.
The brick she’d used was still in the front yard, used as part of the decoration. Nobody else would think anything of it, but I chuckled whenever I saw it.
Mostly because as Ryan had reasoned after: “Nobody needs to worry that I’ll break their face—now they’ll be worried Raven will do it instead.”
The only reason she’d never smashed my windows was probably because it’d have been too obvious.
I was still amazed she never had—and waiting for the day she did.
It was probably going to be soon.
“How did your interview go this afternoon?” Alexandra asked her, taking the cooking tongs.
“Don’t,” she muttered, stepping away from the grill. “His resume said he was twenty-five and competent enough to be an assistant in the kitchen, so I brought him in for a shortlist if I ever happen to find a head chef. He strolls into the freaking bar and I swear, I got an arrest warrant signed just for him walking in. He wasn’t even legal. I asked him to prove his age and he’s freaking twenty. He’s still in college and thought it was a summer job and that nobody would need proof of his age.”
“Where are you advertising?”
“Everywhere except my naked body,” she replied, sitting down at the table opposite Ryan. “Lani’s even taken pity on me and is giving me free full-page ads at this point.”
“Who’s Lani?” I asked.
“One of my closest friends. She runs the Whiskey Key paper.”
“Are you just advertising in Whiskey Key?” I raised my eyebrows. “Why don’t you do it here, too?”
“I’m advertising everywhere in South Florida,” she shot back. “It’s not as easy as you’d think it is.”
“That’s because you’ve had a shitty menu,” Ryan said with a snort. “Maybe you should call back some of the better guys you interviewed and offer them to submit you a menu.”
“What was your menu?” I asked her. “Didn’t you ask Ryan to help you?”
“When has my sister ever asked for my help? Except earlier, of course, when she begged me to work for her.”
“I did not beg you.” Raven bristled. “Well, maybe a little. You know I need the kitchen open before everyone comes for vacation.”
“Then sort out your menu,” he shot back.
“Kids,” Alexandra interrupted, putting the plate of steaks in the middle of the table. “Eat. Ilsa, can you see where Danny is when you get Craig?”
“Of course.” Mom set the bottle of wine she was holding down in front of Alexandra and turned back to the house.
“What is your menu?” I steered the conversation back to Raven.
“Awful,” she responded. “I think I’ll make some calls.”
“Why don’t you just serve Greek food?”
Her fork clattered to the table.
“It’s a good idea,” Alexandra picked up where I’d left off...Just like I knew she would. “You are half-Greek, it’s good food, and there isn’t a place for Greek food on the Keys. Plus, your grandmother would be very happy.”
Raven pressed three fingers to her temple and glared at me through her eyelashes. “Have you considered there isn’t a Greek restaurant because nobody wants Greek food, Mom? Not to mention I’m not sure that gyros or moussaka would fit too well with my cocktail menu.”
“I still don’t understand why you have those vulgar cocktail names.”
I raised my eyebrow. I knew her bar was called Dirty, but I thought that was just because she could make a mean martini.
Her cheeks flushed light pink. It was barely noticeable through her tanned skin. “Because it’s different,” she replied. “It gets people talking, and that brings business. Not to mention that three-quarters of my menu is original, and people love that.”
“Yes, but what’s that new one you just added?”
Ryan grinned. “The Slutwhisperer.”
I smirked. I couldn’t fucking help it.
“It’s a horrible word,” Alexandra sniffed.
“I’d like a slutwhisperer.” Raven and Ryan’s grandfather shuffled out onto the porch. “Do you think it would spice up my life?”
“Maybe,” Raven answered. “But I’d wait until the reunion is over. You know Great-Aunt Maria gets rowdy after a drink or two. It’s probably best not to give her an opening, Grandpa.”
He grumbled something as he settled into his chair. Something that sounded an awful lot like “Fuck that shit,” and made Raven choke on her laughter.
“You have a cocktail called The Slutwhisperer?” I asked her, hiding my smile behind my glass of water. “Where did you come up with that?”
She tapped her finger against her temple and reached for her own water. “That’s probably one of the best names. Although, some of the others are pretty epic.”
“Now, I feel the need to come and find them out.”
“Imagine my bar is a church and you’re a demon,” she said. “I’ll be holding the matches.”
“She isn’t kidding,” Ryan muttered.
“Do you still do that screwdriver twist one?” Their grandpa asked.
“Reg,” Alexandra groaned.
“You know the one,” he continued, oblivious to her discomfort. “With the orange juice.”
Raven cleared her throat and looked down at the table. “You mean the Dirty Screw, Grandpa.”
“Yes!” He thumped the table with his fist. “I’m coming for breakfast. I need a Dirty Screw.”
“What the hell is a Dirty Screw?” I looked at Raven.
She glanced over at her mom, biting the inside of her cheek and fighting a smile. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
“If I order one, how happy will it make me?”
“Not very. I’ll probably throw it over you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Fool.”
***
I knew I was making a mistake. After what Raven said last night at dinner, I had the strongest urge to find out what her cocktail menu was. With names like Dirty Screw and The Slutwhisperer, what other gems did she have hidden on there?
Shit, what gems were hidden inside her apparently filthy mind?
I had no place to be thinking that. She was Ryan’s sister and the bane of my goddamn existence. I didn’t give a shit what was inside her head or how she came up with a filthy cocktail menu.
I was going to believe that she’d spent stupid amounts of time on the Internet coming up with those kinds of names. Seeing her in that damn short dress yesterday had already affected me enough—not to mention the fact that she’d changed since I last saw her.
I didn’t know people could change so much in only three years, but Raven Archer had. She was no longer post-grad, trying to seriously figure out what she wanted to do with her life, uncertain and serving burgers to people to make money.
She was grown-up, in more ways than just her age. She was even hotter-headed than she was back then. She seemed stronger and more stubborn, and her tongue was so sharp I probably had scars from how quickly she cut me with her words.
She was taller and fucking curvier, too.
Her lips were fuller. Her eyes were brighter. And the general air that hung about her, that hint of sass and sexiness, the very same thing that made me insult her whenever I opened my mouth almost made me want her, too.
And that was exactly why I couldn’t sit and think about what went on in her mind—filthy or otherwise.
No matter what she looked like or how fucking hot she was, she was my best friend’s sister. Nobody was more off-limits than she was. That wasn’t a new development. It had always been that way.
Thank fucking god I was only here for the summer, and only because my mother had guilted me into it.
As soon as the summer was over, I’d go for my next challenge.
I could get through a few weeks of being in the same town or two as Raven—because after today, avoidance was at the top of my life.
Otherwise, I’d go fucking insane.
Dirty was right on the seafront, only meters away from a small, sandy bay. It’d only taken me a few minutes to walk here from where I’d parked downtown, and despite the music coming from inside the bar, I could still hear the gentle crashing of the waves as they crawled up the sand. The water was right out, and I stared out at the water as I headed up the hill to the bar.
Fairy lights twinkled along the underside of the roof that jutted out over the sidewalk. It was like a goddamn princess castle from the outside, but the beachy vibe was evident. Different sized and colored shells covered the pillars that held up the balcony that jutted out over the front doors.
I pushed open the door. Cold air blasted into me, and so did the heavy bass beat of the music that blared out from the speakers just above my head. There were more fairy lights inside, but they were strung all beneath the bar, across the beams on the ceiling, and over the back wall where the spirits were on the wall. There wasn’t much else in the way of lighting, but what there was was effective enough in holding the entire space into a balance between bright and dusky.
The inside of Raven’s bar was like being outside at the moment the sun set.
I cast my gaze over the rest of the bar. The solid, wood tables and stools that lined the walls and filled the space to my left all had tiny vases of fresh flowers in. Even those were surrounded by fairy lights.
Fucking hell, did she let a class of little girls in here to decorate?
No matter what I felt about the fairy lights, it looked good. Damn good.
I stepped up to the bar and leaned forward on it. Raven was at the other end of the bar, wearing jeans and a tight tank top that tucked beneath the waistband. Strappy, silver heels on her feet glinted off the under-bar lighting, and it was all too easy for me to drop my eyes there then slowly drag my gaze up the length of her entire body.
Light bounced off the chrome cocktail shaker in her hand as she shook it. She popped off the top with one flick of her thumb, and without spilling a drop, poured the pink-red liquid into two martini-style glasses. With her other hand, she reached back to the register and jabbed at it.
Seconds later, she was handing them back their change. It all happened in a flash.
How did such she go from lost to...this...so quick?
“Raven!” A dark-haired woman sitting a few stools away from me with her friend yelled. “There’s a hot guy staring at you!”
I laughed loudly as Raven jerked around. Her gaze landed on me with what felt like a snap, and I swore she mouthed, “Motherfucker,” before she stalked to this end of the bar.
Her hands slapped on the bar in front of me. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I was coming to check out your menu.”
“He was checking out more than the menu,” the woman’s friend giggled.
Raven held her finger up to them, and with her other hand, slapped a smooth, laminated menu in front of me. “Did you drive?”
“No, I walked all the way from Key West.” I picked up the menu. “Of course I drove.”
“Pick one,” she said, moving away. “I’m not serving you any more than that. Make it a good choice. What can I get for you?” she asked someone else, cutting me off before I could say a word.
I raised my eyebrows.
“She runs a tight ship,” the first woman said. “Three days ago, there was a guy in here spiking drinks. She caught him and bashed him in the balls with her cocktail shaker so he couldn’t run from the security guard.”
Could my eyebrows go up any higher? “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I’ve seen her do worse.”
The second woman’s eyes narrowed. “You have? You know her?”
The first woman rolled her eyes. “Of course he does, Cam. When have you seen her react to a customer like that? He obviously pissed her off in a past life or something.”
“I should be so lucky.” I smirked. “More like all in this life.”
“Her brother’s friend, right?” She tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, she mentioned she hated you.”
She’d talked about me?
“She didn’t say you were hot, though,” the second woman said.
“Camille!”
Ahhh.
The best friends.
“What?” Camille said. “I’m just saying.”
“No more Slutwhisperers for you,” the other woman—the one I presumed to be Lani—said, reaching for her glass.
Camille leaned over and slurped the last of the drink through the straw.
That explained the name of the cocktail.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked, stopping in front of them. “Cam? Your glass is empty. Let me refill that for you.” She winked to the other girl as she turned around.
What was she doing?
She put her back to her friends and grabbed the tequila bottle. She tipped it over a cocktail shaker without actually pouring anything into it. My lips quirked up as she put together what was some pink juice or something and blended it with raspberries.
She poured the mixture into a glass with some vigor in front of Camille.
She’d made her a placebo.
“Made your choice?” Raven turned to me, holding onto the shaker.
“No.” I spun the menu to face her. “What do you think I should have?”
Completely straight-faced, she said, “The Blue Balls.”