Raven
Six years later….
I scrubbed the bartop as a couple left for the night. It was a busy Friday night at my restaurant, and pride swelled in me as another duo of rogues came and took the spots the couple had vacated.
“Evening Raven,” one of them said. “The usual for us, if you would!”
“Always a pleasure Ryan,” I said as I poured their beers. “Anything from the kitchen?”
“Give us a minute love, we just got here!” the other, Paul, teased.
I smiled as I handed them their drinks. Little moments like this were why I’d wanted to start the restaurant in the first place. Rogues had so few opportunities for connection like this – they weren’t welcome in establishments owned by other packs.
It felt good to give us a place to be comfortable, well-fed and content in ea
