Page 142 of Make or Break

Volt’s brows arched and he widened his eyes. “Why are you so firm?”

I glanced around the room before I focused on Volt. “Mickayla put together the business plan for this place before she brought it to the officers and the club. She’s been busting her ass for an ownership stake, right along side her brothers. Months ago, she’d told Lark she’d manage the business while he went to Bike Week. She knew full-well that Nickel and Ricochet would likely be at Bike Week with the club.” I twisted my hands up. “No way this place should shut down because you and the officers are going out of town.”

Volt sipped his drink. “She’ll be the only bartender here.”

“Nope, I’m not going to Bike Week without her.”

Rage’s eyes widened. “You’re the biggest Bike Week freak I know.”

I locked eyes with him. “My woman means more than any rally ever will.”

Rage held up a hand before grabbing his pint glass. “I hear you, and you’re right. Just won’t be the same without you there.”

Liar nodded. “He’s right. It won’t be the same without you, and I’m damned sorry I didn’t raise my hand for you to keep your patch. The club would be a poorer place without you in it.”

I gave Liar a chin lift. “Thanks.”

Volt put his glass down. “Tell Mickayla we’ll talk about management terms in April. It’s clear she’s ready for us to give her more latitude.”

Epilogue

You Can Flip a Coin

Mickayla

One year later…

I stood hunched over the bar working a knife through a hollow chocolate bunny as gently as I could. As I dipped the knife into a large glass of hot water, I heard someone walk up behind me. There was maybe another cut needed before I could get the ear off the rabbit.

“What in the hell are you doing, Mickayla?” Killian asked.

The ear came free, making me grin to myself. I heard someone else wandering up to us and I straightened.

Ryan leaned past Killian with his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Has she been drinking on the job?”

I glared at him. “No…I’m experimenting on a cocktail I want to offer during Sunday brunch in the weeks leading up to Easter.”

Killian spoke while laughing. “What are you talking about?”

Tundra sauntered down the bar to us. “Did you time yourself? And what are you going to do with the bunny ears?”

I set the ear on a cocktail napkin. “Not sure yet, but the idea of melting them into a sauce for beignets or a drizzle for a dessert had crossed my mind. And, no, I didn’t time myself. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, and the rabbit stayed intact.”

“Okay, I’m still confused,” Killian said.

“Me, too,” Ryan said.

I grinned and filled the cocktail shaker with ice. “In a moment, you won’t be. Patience, people.”

Three of my favorite men watched me make a chocolate martini, shake it, then strain it into the bunny’s body.

Ryan held a hand out at the bunny. “I don’t see this goin’ well. At Easter, you’re gonna have kids—”

I waved a hand at Ryan and grabbed the spray can whipped cream. “Hold on, Mr. Pessimism.”

Once I lined the opening of the bunny, I shook on some sprinkles, grabbed a fancy straw and stuck it in the bunny.

Tundra stood with one arm crossed, his other arm resting on it, and his fist to his mouth in contemplation.