“I feel like we should be drinking mint juleps or something.”
I snorted. “What even is that?”
The swing stopped as the wind picked up, whistling along the high eaves. “Are you kidding?”
“About what?”
“Are you sitting here telling me you’ve never had a mint julep?” His eyes rounded, as if it was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard.
“No. I’m not from here.” I shrugged. “I don’t drink mint juleps and play the banjo on the front porch.”
He rose and stretched, his muscled body fitting perfectly in his button-down and dress slacks. “Get up. Time to drink.”
“We haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”
“So what?” He held his hand out for me.
Would drinking be so terrible? Maybe it would take my mind off the news of Sin and Sophia. I took his hand and rose. The rain began to fall as I followed him into the house.
“The key to a mint julep, as you may have guessed, is good mint.”
“So what’s a julep?”
“You’ll see.”
We walked down the hallway and entered the kitchen. Pots and pans hung above a wide, wooden island, and a gas range, two large refrigerators, and a freezer lined the walls. It was tidy, Laura always keeping it in top shape, and some sort of beef stew simmered on the stove top.
“Mint, mint, mint.” Lucius mumbled and opened the nearest stainless steel fridge. “Must be in here somewhere.” He dug through one drawer and then another.
“Can I help?” Laura walked through the door from the dining room.
“Thank god.” Lucius tossed some celery back into a drawer and turned to her. “Mint?”
“Oh.” Laura smiled, her rosy cheeks giving her a youthful glow I feared I would never have again. “Here.” She walked to the farmhouse sink and reached up to the window sill lined with small pots. “How much do you need?”
“This is going to be an all-nighter.” He began to roll up his sleeves, his movements methodical and sharp. “So, give me all you got.”
“No all-nighter.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “One drink.”
“Right.” He smirked. “Just one.”
Laura tore off the tops of the mint, the earthy smell permeating the air. He took the bunch from her and rummaged around in a drawer. “Glasses and ice.” He pulled out a small mortar and pestle as Laura fetched me two highball glasses with ice. “Go ahead and take an ice bucket to the library for me, would you?”
“Yes sir.” Laura turned to a cabinet and plucked out a silver pail.
“Stella, come with me.” He pushed through to the dining room and opened the sideboard. “Where’s the good bourbon?” After leaning over and inspecting each bottle, he shook his head and grinned. “I know where it is. I’ll meet you in the library. Put on some music.”
Usually, I would have snapped back at orders from him, but the fact that he seemed intent on actually making something for me had me complying and strolling, glasses in hand, to the library. Laura had already placed the ice on the table beside the sofa, and I set the glasses next to it.
The library had a small music console, the speakers hidden in the bookshelves. I flipped through several internet stations before settling on something I figured Lucius would like. Classic rock.
He walked in with a large bottle under one arm, and the mortar, pestle, and mint in his hands. I sank onto the sofa and watched him with interest.
“I didn’t know you were a Boston fan.” He smirked and got to work on the mint. “Some people think that crushing the mint ruins the drink. They’re idiots.” He dropped pieces of mint into the small bowl, his long fingers tearing the leaves. Then he grabbed the pestle and began to twist it. “You want the mint to infuse the bourbon, not just serve as a garnish.” The mint crunched under his attack until it was wilted and the library smelled like an herb garden.
Lightning struck close by, the windows rattling from the ensuing boom. He gave the pestle a few more turns before he scooped the crushed mint into the glasses. Then he poured the bourbon over the tops and swirled them.
“Garnish is for pussies. Let’s drink.” He handed me a glass and held his out.
I clinked with him and took a sip. The mint was strong, the bourbon stronger. “Whew.” I took another drink and let the heat race into my stomach and expand from there.
He plopped down next to me. “This is the good shit. No joke.” He took a large swig and settled into the couch, his warmth radiating along my side as the wind howled outside. “Sin’s going to kill me when he gets home and goes looking for his hidden bourbon stash.”
“It’s good. Minty. Definitely strong.” I took another sip. “And I think you enjoy pissing him off.”
“Indeed I do. I had to do a little lock picking to get ahold of this bourbon, so enjoy it.” His tone turned dark even as he smiled at the taste of his drink. “I intend to make sure the bottle is done for by the time Sin gets back.”