The Biker and the Loner (Oil and Water #3)- S. Ann Cole Page 0,66

promptly switched to beers.

"I have an MBA and a Bachelor's in Information Technology. I can speak Italian, German, French, and, of course, Spanish. I can code and hack. I can do illustrations, and I write some kickass high-fantasy fanfiction." I stuff another piece of turnover into my mouth. "But, I don't know what I want to do with my life. What I do know is that I like breakfast."

"And I like a really thick, firm cock," Cookie deadpans. "What’s Spanish for that?"

"Polla."

"And I've got a degree in badass," Kendra adds. "What's Italian for that?"

"Brutto culo."

Toni rolls her eyes and waves her hand at me. "Ignore these jerks. What are you saying, Ley?"

"I want to make breakfast," I tell her. "On the way here, I noticed a ‘Space For Rent’ sign outside the tapestry place a few blocks down the street that your stores are on."

Toni nods. "That's right. The couple who owns it are retiring, shutting down."

Interest piqued, she sits up straighter, a splash of margarita escaping her cup and splashing onto the couch. Scratch was right about getting the leather couch after all. "What are you thinking?” she asks me. “You want to rent it?"

"Maybe." I give a one-shoulder shrug, nervous. Then quickly add, "Or do you guys think a food truck would be better?"

To that, Toni and Cookie answer in unison, "Rent the space."

Kendra nudges my shoulder with her booted foot, giving me a genuine smile and a wink as she mouths, "Progress."

"Say you're serious," Cookie says as she picks up her phone from the coffee table. "'Cause I'm texting Joan right now to tell her not to rent that spot to anyone."

I don't know, but I half-expected some resistance from Toni and Cookie, which is why I immediately suggested the food truck. Both women own food businesses on that street, so it would have been a normal reaction for them to see another food joint on the same street as potential competition. But Toni looks so excited at the prospect, and Cookie is already texting away on her phone to lock down the joint for me.

Unreal.

"Yeah, I am," I murmur, blown away by the unexpected support. "I'm thinking of AM only opening hours. Six to eleven maybe. I dunno. Lots of crazy ideas bouncing around in my head. But, yeah, I want to open a breakfast joint for sure.”

Toni claps her hands together, beaming, enthused. "Yes, girl. Yes!"

Cookie side-eyes her. "Here we go. She's gonna bully you into letting her manage the inter—"

"I'm in charge of interior design!" Toni blurts before Cookie can finish.

Cookie points her gaze at me. "There's no other answer to that except ‘yes’. Trust me. For everyone's sake, just let her do it."

I glance at Toni, and she honestly looks far too aroused by the idea for me to tell her no. "Okay. Besides, you're going to have to teach me the ropes about running a business. I might have an MBA, but you women are real-life girl bosses."

Cookie leans back and takes a puff of her joint, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. "Girl, we’ve got you."

Chapter 18

Leyana

Scratch texts me two days before he’s supposed to come home. We've had no communication with each other since our encounter in the parking lot two and a half months ago.

With my emotional baggage under control, I’ve been eager and impatient to reunite with him. But when the eight-week mark rolled around, he never came home. It was Kendra who informed me that his training was extended for two more weeks.

He’d called Kendra, not me. No courtesy of a heads-up for me.

Not that I blame him. I did him dirty after Kathy died, and he didn't deserve that kind of treatment from me.

Hard to admit it, but Scratch is truly a changed man. The Scratch pre-army and Scratch post-army are two completely different men. I spent our entire time together waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. He remained constant and solid.

I'm the one who screwed us up, I’m the one who did the hurting, and now I can only hope he still wants me when he gets back. Despite his declaration in the parking lot, a lot can happen in ten weeks. That “out of sight, out of mind” thing? It's real.

Now, as I stare down at the text on my screen, I feel a twinge of panic.

Scratch: BACK IN 2 DAYS.

That's all. No “I miss you”, no emojis, no personalization, no endearment, nothing. It could be a