Page 89 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

“Can you give us a name?” Lisa asked.

“I’m sorry, but that’s enough questions,” Irina’s secretary answered for me. “Thank you all for your time.”

Irina ushered me backstage and then gave me a hug. “See. I told you, you’d do great.”

I let out a breath of relief. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

She nodded. “Do you want to have lunch with me to celebrate?”

“That sounds good, but…”

“Let me guess.” She put a hand on her hip. “Lauren’s waiting for you at the mansion?”

“In Kentucky, actually,” I answered. “Everyone is. Billie’s is finally back in business, and there’s a celebration there tonight.”

“Cool. You’ll say hi to everyone for me?”

“Sure.”

Irina had gotten to know the members of Black Storm while they were staying at the mansion after Lauren’s rescue, and they were all friends now.

She put her hand on my shoulder. “And promise me you’ll behave.”

“I will,” I promised her. “And I’ll be there for the meeting tomorrow.”

“You better be.”

I started to leave, but Irina grabbed my hand.

“Are you really proposing?” she asked.

I shrugged. “We’ll see.”

I’d been carrying around my grandmother’s ring since I found it back at the mansion, but I hadn’t decided if I was going to pop the question, or when.

Irina patted my shoulder. “Well, good luck. And tell Lauren hello.”

“I will,” I promised her.

I couldn’t wait to see Lauren again. The thought was enough to put a smile on my face.

Of course, I was excited to see the rest of the gang at Billie’s, too. Everyone had been through so much lately, and now that things had settled, a celebration was well-deserved.

I just knew it was going to be a blast.

“To Black Storm!” Jake raised his glass.

“To Black Storm!” everyone in the place echoed.

“And to the new and improved Billie’s!”

“To Billie’s!”

As I took a sip of my whiskey, I looked around. The place looked new and improved all right, the Black Storm emblem bigger and shinier, the furniture all brand new, the bar larger. I was just glad that it was back in business, though, that Black Storm had a home again. Sure, Jake’s house wasn’t bad, but this—this was home.

And the members of Black Storm looked right at home, drinking and dancing and laughing. It was as if all that shit with the Devils and Clyde Roarke never went down.

“It’s good to see the gang back together, isn’t it?” George remarked, leaning on the counter.

---