Page 33 of Bailey-Rose: The Complete Duet

She hummed her agreement and let me click the seat belt into place before doing the same for myself. Starting the car, I was rather thankful it was a stick shift. That meant I needed to give it my full attention, and it would keep my hand busy. Backing out of the spot, I pulled my shit together, and we were off. I planned to take the long way to the bar, but I thought it might be better to spend time with her someplace more public.

A few minutes later, Bailey-Rose threw her hands up and let out a shout of joy as we sped down the highway. It was intoxicating to see her enjoying the small moments in life, soaking in the sun, and her beaming smile. Much to my family’s disdain, I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, but I never truly believed I could have a romance like you saw in the movies.

This stunning woman beside me was determined to prove me wrong.

God, what the hell had I done to deserve such a woman to be my scent match?

“Boss, what are you doing here? I thought you were on courting leave?” Drew, my manager, asked when I entered the bar.

Stepping to the side, I revealed Bailey-Rose who’d been trying to hide behind me. “Drew, this is Bailey-Rose Thatcher, my scent matched Omega. Bailey-Rose, this is Drew. He’s my right-hand man who runs things when I’m not here. I would be lost without this guy, and I was lucky to con him into working for me.”

Bailey-Rose smiled and gave a small wave. “Hi.”

Drew looked from her to me with wide, shocked eyes. “Holy shit, she’s like a walking, talking ball of cotton candy.”

“Back off, man, she’s my ball of cotton candy,” I warned, wrapping an arm around Bailey-Rose’s shoulders, cuddling her close to me.

The Beta threw his hands up in surrender but wouldn’t stop grinning. “Don’t you worry, boss. I’m a bonded man. My Alphas would kick my ass if I dared let my attention wander.”

“Good, because I really didn’t want to have to fire you,” I admitted, relaxing slightly. “If you could do me a solid and pretend I’m not here, that would be amazing. As you mentioned, I’m on courting leave, and this is supposed to be a date. Oh, and we’re going to take the training section of the bar so I can teach her about mixology.”

Drew flashed me a thumbs-up as one of the servers called for him. “Duty calls… gotta make sure this place stays standing until you come back.”

I hadn’t been kidding when I told Bailey-Rose I was lucky to have that guy. He was my secret weapon to success that no one would ever guess since he was a Beta. Somewhere along the way, our society as a whole seemed to forget that Betas could be wildly successful, given the chance.

Returning my attention to my shy little Omega, I interlaced our fingers and led the way to the back of the bar. The Fat Mule was the culmination of all the dreams I’d had of one day owning my own bar. In all reality, it was two bars in one. The front of the house was an easy-going, chill cocktail bar to grab a happy hour drink and eat. Many sofas and armchairs were organized in little groupings to make it feel more intimate. When you passed through the dual barn doors in the middle of the bar, it changed into a cheeky, fun, playful nightclub with neon signs and a disco ball. Like a mullet, it was business in the front, party in the back.

While the name of the bar stayed the same, I created two logos to match the feel of each space. The more business side of things was a copper mule mug that was knocked over with ice, lime, and mint spilling out of it. As for the nightclub, I had an artist draw me up a mule dancing under a disco ball with a Moscow mule mug in one hand raised high above its head like it just doesn’t care. This way, when advertising was done, people knew which side of things the deals fell on.

“Warrick, you came up with all this?” Bailey-Rose asked as I showed her around the place.

I gave a little huff on my nails before rubbing them on my shirt. “Why, yes… yes I did. So far, it’s been rather successful too. Seems I picked up more from watching all the failures my siblings and other family members made in business, allowing me to avoid doing them myself.”

Bailey-Rose wandered around the bar’s club section, looking at all the random art painted on the exposed brick walls. It made me think I should have her add something to the building. None of us had seen what her style was like other than the gloomy self-portraits that hung on her bedroom walls. Something told me that wasn’t a fair glimpse into her artistic eye.

“Are these all local artists or did you commission them?” she asked, pausing to stare at one section that was like a psychedelic trip of swirling colors.

“Local. I put out an ad and picked artists I thought would fit the vibe I was looking for. It was really fun to see what the city had to offer,” I shared. “What about you? Would you like to add your mark on The Fat Mule?”

Whipping around to face me, her expression full of excitement, she rushed forward and gripped my hand. “Do you mean that? I could absolutely create something that would be perfect for this space.”

I gripped her chin with my free hand and leaned down to softly kiss her perfect lips. “I would never joke about art with you. Even having just met you, it’s clear how much it means to you. I would be honored if you wanted to bless my business with your talent. You can even pick where you want to put it.”

She practically vibrated with excitement in my grasp, popping up on her toes to kiss me. It caught me so off guard that I almost fell backward, but I managed to save the moment by twirling her as I peppered her face with kisses. The laughter that bubbled out of her was the sweetest sound I could imagine. Setting her on her feet, I brushed her hair out of her face and simply studied her for a moment.

“What?” Bailey-Rose asked.

I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing, just can’t believe I get to have you in my life.”

She blushed and dropped her gaze, making me grin like an idiot. There was something powerful about seeing my effect on her. It made me want to do it again and again to ensure I wasn’t dreaming.

“Come on, let’s go make some drinks and create some magic,” I urged, knowing if I didn’t give us an activity, I was going to test out how soundproof my office was.

Never did I think there was so much science that went into making cocktails. Warrick was a patient teacher explaining the tools, ingredients, and how to balance the flavor of a drink. He even laughed when I shook a carbonated cocktail and shot the cover off the shaker and out into the dining area.

Time flew by as we laughed and talked about anything and everything that came to mind. Warrick was such a warm person it was effortless to spend time together. In many ways, it felt like I’d known him for years instead of days. My hope was it would be just as easy to connect with the other men in my pack. Talking with my mother helped immensely, but the fear of them deciding I was too much work or held them back still lingered.

“Okay, so we’ve decided to make the drink an experience,” Warrick said as he wrote on a fresh sheet of paper. “You said your favorite summer treat is a snow cone, which I think is brilliant. We have an ice shaver that can whip up what we need in no time. Give me a moment to collect all these ingredients from the back storage, and we’ll get this vision of yours created.”