Page 96 of Peer & Coco
"Thought you might like this." She smiled when he thanked her. "Do you want anything to eat?"
"Nei, I'm good. Thanks." He opened the door and let two customers in. "I'll grab whatever is left at the clubhouse when I'm off."
It hadn't taken her long to realize Norwegians had their biggest meal in the late afternoon and the bikers took full advantage of the leftovers before going to bed.
"Okay. I'm going to tell Peach to close down the kitchen." She tapped her wrist. "A half-hour to go and we're out of here."
Marcus raised his brows over the brim of his coffee mug. She let him be and went into the kitchen. Peach looked up from wiping down the surface of the grill.
"I was going to tell you to shut down the kitchen, but you're one step ahead of me," she said.
"There's sweet rolls and smoked salmon on the platter. Give it away. It won't save until tomorrow." Peach stepped over and carried a tub to the sink. "The special wasn't as big with the customers tonight. All they wanted was their fries and nachos."
"Well, they don't know what they were missing." She carried the platter out and made her rounds, seeing if anyone wanted a free appetizer. It softened the news that the bar would be closing soon.
Taking a slower pace, she put away her order pad, pen, and emptied her pockets. She opened the cash register and took out the pile of tips she'd earned throughout the night and folded the cash, putting it all in her pocket.
Customers started standing up from their tables. She stayed at the counter and waited for them to come and pay their tab.
Aron, sitting at the bar, reached over and clasped Peer's hand. "Congrats on staying around, brother. I heard the news earlier that you're not getting on the big bird and flying home."
"Thanks, man. It feels good." Peer grinned. "Besides, The Fire Ring would go downhill without me running the bar."
"Damn right." Aron leaned his elbows on the counter. "Life's looking good. I'm happy for you."
Peer leaned forward and spoke too low for Coco to hear. She stared, trying to read his lips, but he burst out in laughter before she caught anything. The sound of his happiness drained the blood from her head.
She moved away and went through the motions of getting the customers out the door. By two o'clock in the morning, she was done with tidying up her area on the floor and walked to the breakroom to get her bag.
Outside, she strolled across the alley and into the clubhouse. Grabbing Tyr, she held him to her while she lugged his diaper bag over her shoulder. She hated herself from trying to get comfort from a baby, but right now, Ty's little arms wrapping around her neck was the best thing in her life.
Heavy footsteps came behind her. She wrapped her arms protectively around Tyr and turned. She exhaled in relief, finding Roar jogging toward her, his limp more pronounced.
"What's wrong?" she said, instantly worried about Lizzy and the baby.
"Where's Peer?"
"I don't know. Still, inside the bar, I think."
Roar left without a word. She frowned after him. What was with the Slag members lately?
"Bikers are weird," she whispered to Tyr. "Don't you tell your pappa I said that, though."
She carried him to the car, opened the door, and threw both bags inside. Then, she put Tyr in the car seat, kissing his chubby cheek. He yawned.
She stroked his face. "Are you tired, sweet face?"
He squirmed to get out. She kissed his forehead and shut the back door. Looking around for Peer and finding the alley almost empty of Slag members, she got into the driver's seat to wait.
Minutes ticked by. On the verge of getting Tyr out of his car seat again and going to look for Peer, the back door of the bar opened, and he strode out, going right to the car.
She turned the key halfway and lowered her window, knowing Peer had ridden his Harley to work like normal.
He planted his hands on the car and leaned down. "I'm needed here. I'll have Dag follow you home."
"Uh." She looked in her rearview mirror. "Okay. I'll put Tyr to bed then. He's probably going to fall asleep."
Peer leaned inside the car, kissed her hard, and then tapped the roof of her vehicle before jogging into the clubhouse. Disappointed, she wondered what he was going to do. She'd learned never to ask, because of some Slag rule of not telling outsiders their business. Even living with him, she hadn't figured out what pulls him away from home a few times a week.