Page 67 of Shaken Knot Stirred

“No.” Her voice was barely audible.

True terror sliced through me. And Moxie felt that, too. If Nico knew that the love of his life was his scent match, for all intents and purposes, belonged to his alpha, he would set the world on fire.

And I would lose her and Nico both. I would lose the only two people I’d ever loved.

“Moxie,” I begged her, tears streaming unbidden down my face, “Please, you have to go. Beg can’t have you.”

“I will not leave you.”

Chapter 37

Lana

I picked at atiny chip in my short French manicure. It was nearly impossible to sit next to Moxie and not actually touch her.

We had both cried ourselves to sleep last night in the messy, sticky bed. Now, here I was sitting in the bar at the Vig, next to my scent match, pretending that my world wasn’t reborn and destroyed all in one night.

We didn’t say a word about it. I didn’t trust that Beg wasn’t spying on us with his cameras and microphones. I couldn’t even pretend that I was hard at work figuring out a solution. Everytime I tried to think of something, anything, we could do, my brain hit a wall of fear, paralyzing me.

Fight Night was tomorrow, which meant the club would be busy today as people trickled in to get their tickets and place bets.

Moxie aimlessly spun the little dish of mixed nuts we kept stocked at the bar. She couldn’t seem to sit still.

“Fuck it””

I jumped at her words.

She hopped off the velvet stool and strode around the bar, elbowing one of the bartenders out of the way.

“What the fuck, Lana!” Pete, the bartender, exclaimed, throwing up his hands and pointing at Moxie. I shrugged. I wasn’t the boss and I wasn’t going to say no to Moxie. About this or anything.

“Hey, do you have drink umbrellas?” She asked.

Ella, my other bartender, pulled open a drawer and dusted off a little box.

“Perfect.” Moxie beamed. She moved around the back of the bar like a dancer.

Another client joined us at the bar. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he sat. Ella gestured with an open palm at his empty glass. He waved her off, mesmerized by Moxie.

She crouched to search for something under the bar. Her squeal of delight drew another guest. Moxie popped back up with a grapefruit in hand and scanned the bar, looking for something. Another “ooo” as she stretched for a tool, placing the fruit on the bar.

Her attention got snagged by the empty glass on the bar.

“Oh no, that is not right at all.” She snatched the glass away and turned her back to pull down one of the glass mugs we served Irish coffee in. Her fingernail snapped along the crisp tops of the tea packets until she found the right one. She tore itopen with her teeth, plopped the bag into the mug, and filled it with steaming water from the tap on the coffee machine.

She placed the mug in front of the confused beta and slapped his hand away when he went to take it. Bottles rattled as she searched for the ingredients she needed.

The long twisted bar spoon made a shivering sound as she pulled it out of the utensil holder. She swirled it in the teacup and then used the back of the spoon to squeeze out the last drops of amber liquid. Double-fisted, she poured two syrups into a cocktail shaker and added a jigger of bourbon. She scattered my staff and moved around, pulling this and that. Cream was next and a few cubes of ice. She gave it a quick shake and topped the tea with a cloud of thickened cream.

“Okay. That’s better.” She said, pushing the tea toward the beta.

He looked nervous as he took a sip.

“Holy shit.” He said, taking another, bigger sip and wiping cream from his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s the best thing I have ever had.”

“Now you,” Moxie flashed me a devastating smile. She was more familiar with where things were now, and darted with more precision to build this drink.

I sighed as I felt Nico slide in next to me. I tried to catch his scent without being obvious about it. He just smelled clean and fresh, and a little medicinal, like fancy soap. But then smell really wasn’t a thing for betas, not like it was for an omega.

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