by Kayt Miller
Description:
Michael "Mick" Flynn is a crotchety old man, and he's only twenty-seven. Left bitter and broken after his last relationship, he's vowed to remain relationship-free for the rest of his life. Besides, who needs a serious relationship when there are so many willing party girls around to take to his bed? As a bartender, I mean a mixologist, at one of Chicago's hippest clubs; he's got his pick of the ladies.
But when Veronica "Roni" McGonigall plops down at his bar and orders a classic drink, he's taken by her smile, her candor, and her ability to make him laugh harder than he has in over a year.
Deciding to drink her sorrows away after realizing the guy she likes at work won’t give her a second glance, Mick Flynn is the last person she expects to draw into her pathetic life. Mick is hot as sin and absolutely unattainable to a voluptuous girl like Roni.
When Roni pulls Mick into a sexy kiss (thanks to a little too much liquid courage). It leaves them both wondering… can we be more than friends?
This book contains language and situations readers should be age 18+. Mick'sology is a follow-up from Henry Flynn's story (Out of the Blue) but is a stand-alone. Like I've said before, if you don't like coarse language and sexy times, you should read something else. Enjoy!
Copyright Information
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Kayt Miller
Cover image standard license from Adobe Stock.com
Cover Copyright © 2017 Kayt Miller
All rights reserved.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author @ [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Rowling, J.K., “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” New York: Arthur A. Levine Books, 1999.
Urban Dictionary: tittage street slang defined
Fitzgerald11, November 1, 2004
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Description
Copyright Information
Acknowledgements and Dedications
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Mick
Chapter 2: Veronica
Chapter 3: Mick
Chapter 4: Roni
Chapter 5: Mick
Chapter 6: Roni
Chapter 7: Mick
Chapter 8: Roni
Chapter 9: Mick
Chapter 10: Roni
Chapter 11: Mick
Chapter 12: Roni
Chapter 13: Mick
Chapter 14: Roni
Chapter 15: Mick
Chapter 16: Roni
Chapter 17: Mick
Chapter 18: Roni
Chapter 19: Mick
Chapter 20: Roni
Chapter 21: Mick
Chapter 22: Roni
Chapter 23: Mick
Chapter 24: Roni
Chapter 25: Mick
Chapter 26: Roni
Chapter 27: Mick
Chapter 28: Roni
Chapter 29: Mick
Chapter 30: Mick
Chapter 31: Mick
Chapter 32: Bill Phillips
Chapter 33: Mick
Chapter 34: Roni
Chapter 35: Mick
Chapter 36: Roni
Chapter 37: Roni
Chapter 38: Roni
Chapter 39: Roni
Chapter 40: Roni
Chapter 41: Mick
Chapter 42: Roni
Chapter 43: Mick
Chapter 44: Roni
Chapter 45: Mick
Chapter 46: Roni
Chapter 47: Mick
Chapter 48: Roni
Chapter 49: Roni
Chapter 50: Mick
Chapter 51: Roni
Chapter 52: Mick
Chapter 53: Roni
Chapter 54: Mick
Chapter 55: Roni
Chapter 56: Roni
Chapter 57: Mick
Chapter 58: Roni
Chapter 59: Mick
Chapter 60: Roni
Chapter 61: Roni
Chapter 62: Roni
Chapter 63: Mick
Epilogue: Roni
Epilogue: Mick
One year later
Five years later
Sneak Peek: Out of the Blue
Sneak Peek: Thanks to Margie Dill
Also by Kayt Miller
Acknowledgements & Dedications
Thank you to all of those who inspire me and help with this process. This book dedicated to Elizabeth and Kay for reading and re-reading my stories and for your encouragement. Oh, and thanks to my husband for giving me inspiration everyday.
Chapter 1: Mick
As I lean over to buckle her into the backseat of the Uber, I feel fingers and the scrape of fingernails as they run across the back of my head, catching on my knot of hair. I turned to look at her as she pulls my head closer. Her lips are on mine before I can even utter a word. Her soft lips taste sweet, like the drinks she had tonight¬¬––one too many drinks, apparently.
I learned early on when a pretty girl pulls you into a kiss, you reciprocate. Bent over at the waist to get her into the cab, I turn my body and place my hand on the back of her seat. I move my head a little to the side to get serious about this kiss. Her little tongue moves over my bottom lip seeking mine. I oblige because that’s the kind of guy I am.
When our tongues meet, we moan simultaneously. I pull the hand from the back of the seat and slide it into her lustrous blonde curls and pull her even closer. It’s the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had. My dick is hard as a rock, and all I want to do is get this girl naked. But, she’s drunk, and I’m supposed to be the good guy here, not take advantage of her. I’m her fucking bartender, not her date.
I pull away and see that her eyes are closed, and her lips are still open slightly. She licks her lips and opens her eyes to look at me with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Wow,” she says. “That was some kiss. You’re hot as hell, Mick the barkeep.”
“Thanks,” I smirk. Still close enough to smell her sweet, feminine scent.
“It’s a shame,” she adds.
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause, we could have made beautiful babies together,” she says as her head falls back on the seat. Not one second later, she’s snoring.
Fuck! Of all the things she could have said to me, that one made my dick flaccid. Beautiful babies? What the fuck?
The Uber driver interrupts my thoughts, “Mick, Jesus dude, I need to hit the road. Where does she live?”
Sam is the guy I call when one of our patrons needs a ride. He’s a good guy, a family guy with six kids, just like my family. Well, not my family, my mom, and dads. I have five siblings. That’s what I’m trying to say. In any case, I like helping him out when I can. “Oh, sorry Sam. I didn’t… I was caught up with…”
“Obviously.”
“She’s out cold. I’ll see if she’s got ID in her purse. You’re my witness, Sam. I’m not trying to roll her.”
“Be kinda hard to do; she’s a big girl.”
I’m not sure why but that comments pisses me off, “Sam, knock it off.”
“Oh, sorry Mick. She your girl?”
“
No. It’s… just… she’s a nice girl.”
“Gotcha. Address?” Sam asks impatiently.
“Ah, here it is. Oh, Jesus,” I snort out a laugh. “She said her name was ‘Roni, ’ but that must be a nick name. It’s no wonder she has a good sense of humor. You'd have to with a name like that.”
Sam chuckles, “I can’t wait. What’s her name?”
“Veronica Sue McGonigall”
“Veronica McGonigall? Shit, say that three times fast. Not possible,” Sam says laughing hard.
I can’t help myself, but I laugh out loud and startle Sleeping Beauty. Not for long, though, she turns her head to the other side and starts snoring again.
“Today, Mick. What’s her frigging address?”
I read it off and realize that she lives in Lincoln Square, which is the neighborhood just to the east of mine, North Park. We're neighbors. I put her ID back in her little purse and pull myself out of the car. I wince when I straighten my back. I shut her door and tap the roof letting Sam know he can take off.
I turn back to the entrance of Chrome and see our head bouncer, Steve.
I nod at him, as he speaks, “She’s not your usual type, kinda a blonde Ashley Graham. She had nice tits. Way to go.” He raises his hand up for a high-five, and I can’t leave him hangin’, so I slap his hand. He smirks at me as I walk back inside. What can I say? She did have nice tits. The rest of her was pretty good too. Long blonde hair, full pink lips, plump round ass, and expressive green eyes. Remembering that kiss and the rest of her curves make my dick twitch. Damn. She was all woman.
The end of my day sure beats the shit out of the way it started. I was off last night, so I came in early to get a jump on paperwork. When I walked into the bar, the first thing I saw was a fucking disaster. It looked like no one did any Goddamn closing work. There were empties all over the place; the counters were sticky. They left dirty dishes in the sink, and the chairs were still on the floor, which means no one mopped the floors last night.
I stomped into my office and picked up the phone. I called every single one of those assholes that worked last night and told them to get their ass to Chrome, or they’re fired. I thought about firing them anyway. Twenty minutes later, I had seven people in front of me who knew exactly what the fuck they didn’t do last night. “You’ve got thirty minutes to get this bar in order. If I ever see this place like this again, you’re all fucking fired,” I shouted.
I turned to the person who was supposed to be in charge last night, “Stacy, my office now!”
She followed me back, head hanging low. She knew what was coming. I slammed my door shut after she entered, “If you ever leave my bar like that again, you’re not only fired, you can kiss any recommendation from me goodbye. We clear?”
“We’re clear,” she said sadly.
“When I’m not fucking livid, I’ll ask you what happened last night, until then, get out there and get that shit cleaned up!”
“Okay. Yeah, thanks, Mick.” She lumbered out of the door like fucking Eeyore. I know I should have felt a little guilty for being such a prick, but fuck that shit.
When I walked back out to the bar forty minutes later, the place was spotless, and those worthless sacks of shit were gone. Good thing. I feel like yelling all over again. I turned to go back to my office but stopped when I caught a glimpse of a guest at the bar, Emily.
“Em? What are you doing here?
“Biding my time. I thought I’d let you cool off before I knocked on your office door.”
“Yeah, so you heard that?”
“The tail end of it.”
I take a deep breath, “So, what can I do for you, baby sister?” I love Emily. She and I are tight. We’re just over two years apart which means we were thrown together a lot when we were kids. As the two youngest in a family of six, we had to be a united front.
We walked into my office. I sat in my chair, and she plopped her ass down in the chair in front of my desk. She threw her feet up on top of my desk getting comfortable.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks so I thought I’d stop by to catch up.” Emily takes a deep breath, “So, when are you gonna get happy, Mick?”
“What do you mean? I'm happy.” No, I’m not.
“You’re not happy. The Mick I know and love wouldn’t have lashed out at everyone out there just now. Sure, he would have been pissed, but he wouldn’t have been so harsh.”
“Emily, you didn’t see this place. It was a fucking dump.”
“Stacy’s dad died last night.”
“What? Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Did you give her a chance? She had to get out of here last night to get to the hospital. The other people dropped the ball. Not her.”
“How do you know that?”
“I sat at the bar and listened while they worked. They were careful not to say too much about you, but the consensus was––you’re a cranky, old bastard.”
“I’m not old!”
“Older than most of them,” she says with a smirk. “So, when are you gonna let your anger at Lauren go? It’s been over a year.”
“I may never get over the shit with Lauren. Look, Em, I’m doing the best I can.”
“No, you’re not. I mean, you’ve always been a little moody, but this last year you’ve become... completely unfun.”
“Unfun? That’s not even a word.”
“It fits, though, doesn’t it? You used to laugh with me, tell jokes, make fun of our older siblings, but whenever we’re together, you’re sullen and angry. It sucks. I want my fun-loving brother Mick back.”
I sigh. I know it’s true. I haven’t been able to shake the anger and sadness from all the shit that went down with my ex Lauren Sly. Fuck, her last name fits her perfectly. She’s a deceitful little bitch. “Yeah, I know. I just didn’t realize how far I’d slipped. Now that I know, I can make a conscious effort to do a better job. I can try to fake it.”
“Jesus, Mick. I don’t want you to fake happiness. Just get happy. Maybe it’s time you met someone.”
“No way. No fucking way. I’m never gonna be in a relationship again. I’ll just stick with hookups.”
“Having sex with these stupid bar flies is a bad idea. You need a good woman. Look at what a difference Sophie’s made in Hank’s life. He’s actually a joy to be around now, and we both know that's a miracle.”
My brother, Hank, fell head over heels in love and it shocked the shit out of all of us. He’d divorced his bitch of an ex-wife a long time ago, and he swore he’d never remarry or even have a serious relationship. But, then he met Sophie, and all of that shit went out the window.
“Sophie’s different.”
“I know. She’s cool. She’s sweet, funny, and she loves all of us probably as much as Hank does. I never thought he’d get remarried after she-who-shall-not-be-named,” she says ominously. Emily loves Harry Potter. She uses quotes from those books on a daily basis.
I chuckle at that. Lauren deserves that moniker too. “I’ll think about it. Okay? That’s all I can give you right now. I’ll think about it.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask of you. I love you, big brother. We all do. You deserve to be happy, and you’re selling yourself short if you let what Lauren did to you keep you from finding a good woman.”
“Jesus, did mom send you? You sound just like her.”
“I know. It scares the living crap out of me too,” she laughs. “But, she has a point. She and dad have been happy for decades. They’ve set an example for the rest of us––that it’s possible to be in a healthy, long-term relationship and be friends as well as lovers.”
“Please. Do not say the word ‘lovers’ when referring to mom and dad,” I exaggerate a shiver. While I’m at it, what made you all Miss fucking Romantic? Is there something you need to tell me? Did you meet ‘the one’?” I say sarcastically.
“Maybe. But, I’m not saying a word about it to anyone, and neither are you.” She points at me and looks se
rious. “What you and I talk about stays between us, or have you forgotten?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten. I still have a scar on my thumb when we made that stupid blood oath. You’re such a bitch. I can’t believe I let you talk me into cutting me open.”
“I was practicing,” she smirks.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re going to medical school. At least now if you cut someone open, you can sew them back up.”
“True dat, bro. True dat. All right, I’m out. I’ve got a date with a textbook.”
I stand up and walk around my desk to give her a hug. “I love you, Emily. When you’re ready, I want to hear about the love of your life,” I say sarcastically.
But she’s serious. “I will. When you get fun again, I’ll tell you about him.”
Jesus, she’s met someone? Damn. “Okay. That’s a deal. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she says walking out of my office.
I need to stop being ‘unfun’? “Good luck with that,” I mutter to myself. But first, I pick up the phone to call Stacy. I need to apologize and tell her how sorry I am about her dad.
Chapter 2: Veronica
“Oh Jesus,” I mutter to myself. It feels someone is beating my head repeatedly with a sledgehammer. “Why did I drink so much last night?” I look at my clock and see I still have fifteen minutes before I need to get up. I lie back onto my pillow and close my eyes as the memories from the previous night flood back.
