Page 141 of Rut Bar

By the time all of us are clothed and packed up, we’re half-asleep on our feet. It was a long day and while this would have been more comfortable to do at home, it would have been a lot harder to keep it a secret. It’s not easy to pull one over on Veronica. She watches her club like a hawk, and we spend more time at Rut than at home.

Not that I’m complaining. The club is her life. Our life now. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even a cushy government job with a pension and great 401k matching and decent health insurance with dental and vision.

I scan the office one last time to make sure we got all the cum cleaned up and left nothing behind for Nate to stumble upon. Something glints on the floor. It’s one of her stickers, and it must have fallen off while she was getting dressed.

After a moment of hesitation, I decide to leave it. It’ll be a reminder that she’s my good girl when she finds it. I flick the lights off and follow them down the stairs. Not even the aching burst of pain in my knee as I hold on to the railing and take them slowly can wipe the smile off my face as we head home.

ChapterThirty-Eight

VERONICA

Eleven weeks in total.That’s how long it takes for the in-person auditor to decide we’re not doing anything illegal or shady at Rut. Brendan assures me it’s all very standard. They’ve chased down every receipt, pored over every line in the budget, and realized that there’s nothing to find.

We’re finally free. My dark mood lifts the minute I get the news. I throw my arms around Brendan and I laugh when he uses the opportunity to squeeze my ass, which earns him a rare giggle.

“We did it!” I crow, burying my face in his soft, comforting body. In my pack, he’s the most huggable.

“You did,” Brendan says. He gives my butt one last squeeze before smoothing his hand over my unruly curls. “Good job, sweetheart. Now you can finally relax.”

“Relax? No.” There’s so much to do. I pull away from his arms, and my mind races with everything that comes next. “Now it’s time to book that flight. Oh, and I need to send emails to the investors I found. Let them know it’s time to set a meeting. I have to research hotels. Fuck, I need to look at venues for the bar itself and find a broker. Oh my God, there’s so much to do.”

I should have started on all this weeks ago.But I was so worried about the audit that I didn’t want to jinx it by setting up the meetings.

“One thing at a time,” Brendan says, pulling me back into the cradle of his arms.

A purr rumbles through his chest, deep and rolling. The sound soaks into my bones where we’re pressed together, and it’s impossible to not relax in response to it. His hand smooths up and down my back until I let out a deep sigh.

“We’ll help you every step of the way, whatever you need,” he says. “All of us are here for you, remember?”

I do. That’s impossible to forget. These men have invaded every corner of my life completely, flipping everything on its head.

Over the weeks, we’ve fallen into an easy routine. The occasional early morning swim or walk on the beach with Jamie. Sitting at the bar and taste testing Anthony’s cocktail experiments while they watch the alphas rehearse. Nest cuddles with Brendan while he massages my aching feet after a long workday.

It’s the little things too. The small things that soon take over your life, changing it one bit at a time. The top of the sink is crowded with everyone’s toothbrushes. A magnetic shopping list sticks on the fridge so everyone can scribble what they’re out of for the next trip to the store. We bought a rack to keep our shoes from becoming a jumbled tripping hazard at the garage door. A plant appeared in the bedroom one day, and then the next day someone set out an old-fashioned glass mister bottle for it.

We all have different profiles on the streaming apps. I haven’t been back to my apartment in weeks except to pay the rent and tell the middle-aged office manager, Gayle, I won’t be renewing my lease.

Empty boxes take up my cramped apartment living room, waiting to be filled. Other than my clothes, most of it is being donated to the omega shelter. The spare bedroom at the pack house has made an excellent walk-in closet for us with the addition of an extra chest of drawers found on the side of the road and a brass clothes rack Darlene replaced with a bigger one at Rut.

Anthony makes not-so-subtle hints about what a great nursery the impromptu walk-in closet would make one day. I’m still not ready for children. I never thought about it all that much until recently, until I finally accepted that I’ve found my pack. But right now, with the expansion on the horizon, it isn’t the right time.

Weeks go by in a pleasant routine until I’m staring at a suitcase and trying to figure out how to make it all fit.What is it about going out of town that makes me think I’ll need two pairs of underwear each day I’ll be gone?As if New York City doesn’t have thousands of shops that sell underwear in case I need more? But anxiety won’t let me leave any behind.

When my suitcase is bulging with twelve outfits for a four-day business trip, I finally decide that’s enough. Mostly because there’s no room left for anything else.

Next to mine, Brendan’s suitcase is downright petite. I frown at the side-by-side comparison. He has a neck pillow wrapped around its handle. I don’t have a neck pillow. That’s how unprepared I am for this. I didn’t realize I needed one. The flight is six hours long and I’ve never been on a plane before. Are we going to be sleeping the whole way?Shit. Should we make one last run to the store?We’ve already gone twice since yesterday.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Brendan asks, coming up behind me and slipping his arms around my middle. He tugs me against him and lets out a contented sigh when I lace my hands on top of his.

“No. I don’t have a neck pillow,” I answer, annoyed with myself for not thinking of this sooner. It makes me wonder what else I’m not thinking of.

Running one successful nightclub is one thing. Starting a chain? Building an empire? It’s ambitious and scary and exhilarating, but I forgot to buy a neck pillow.

What if I reach too far and mess everything up and let them all down? So many people are depending on me. Fuck, how do alphas deal with this? Do they really never doubt themselves?

Brendan’s purr does its best to soothe me before imposter syndrome makes me spiral. “We can buy one at the airport, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Such a simple solution for a stupid problem. Some of the weight lifts off my shoulders.

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