by Anne Malcom
I hadn’t had any contact with gangs or motorcycle club members in my life. My knowledge came from the news, TV shows and the odd romance novel I read with a biker in it. I obviously couldn’t rely on fictional depictions to form some kind of opinion; neither could I use what I saw in the news. I was not one to judge anyone without knowing them. My eyes flickered around the café. It was reasonably busy with a breakfast crowd, mostly locals from the way they interacted with the waitresses. A couple of them smiled at the bikers who did chin lifts back. No one was cowering in terror or giving them sideways looks. The surfer guy was joking with Shelly, AKA my new best friend, thanks to her superior coffee making skills. He looked to be friendly and not like he was going to shoot anyone.
On that thought, my body jerked as I made eye contact with him. The dangerous one. The beautiful one. I stilled as something inexplicable passed through me with the weight of his stare. I was locked in place as his dark eyes settled on mine, and for a split second everything else melted away. Intensity I had never felt jolted through me. As quickly as it came it was gone, and the man scowled at me then looked away.
I flinched slightly at such a harsh look from a stranger. A freaking hot stranger. No one liked it when people scowled at them. It double sucked when the person in question was like Adonis. I tried to inspect just what the heck that look was.
A snapping in front of my face made me jump.
“Earth to Mom.”
“What?” I snapped at Lexie’s amused gaze.
She smirked at me. “As much as I would like to watch the hot guy show this morning, I’ve got to go and get an education.”
I focused on her, tearing my gaze away from the scowling male.
“You don’t need an education. You’re pretty. Marry rich, you’ll be fine,” I said, peeking back in his direction. I inwardly flinched when I got a searing scowl as dark eyes locked with mine. I swallowed. “Plus, this is an education,” I nodded my head at the males at the counter. “You are seeing your first real bad boys. You can look, drool, take a mental picture, but do not touch,” I instructed, waggling my finger. “And under no circumstances do you get on the back of a motorcycle. If you do I’ll post that photo of you with a baby mullet on Facebook for the world to see,” I warned her in my mom voice, although I may have been talking more to myself than my daughter.
I may not judge, but no way in hell was my daughter going anywhere near a motorcycle.
She screwed up her nose. “I’m still mad at you for that. Who let’s their own flesh and blood, a defenseless baby, get a mullet?”
I shrugged my shoulders, peeking a glance at the hot guys over my coffee cup. “It wasn’t my fault. Blame the hairdresser,” I answered on a white lie. I had wanted to see if a baby would look cute with a mullet. I reasoned my baby could. I was wrong. I was also eighteen and slightly dumb. What can you do?
Lexie stared at me in what I was sure was disbelief and started to get up. “Come on, I like to eat, therefore I need you to get to work so you can bring home the bacon.”
“Don’t you mean tofu?”
Lexie shriveled up her nose. “You know I don’t eat tofu, Mom.”
I raised my eyebrow. “You’re one step away. Lettuce is a gateway food. Before you know it, you’ll be drinking kale smoothies and having tofu instead of steak. Then I’ll have to disown you.”
I left cash plus a generous tip on the table. This was going to be our new haunt, I couldn’t under tip the people that held my life/morning coffee in their hands. We gathered our things and I gave a warm smile and a wave to Shelly. She smiled back and the gesture made the men she was talking to glance over in our direction. I gulped as three pairs of male eyes settled on my daughter and I. It wasn’t menacing or leering, just curious.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a muffin or some form of solid food to constitute a proper breakfast?” I asked her, deciding to try and ignore the hot guys, even though our current trajectory had us heading straight past them. There was nothing for it; they were right by the exit.
Lexie rolled her eyes at me. “I’m sure, Mother.” She seemed more cool and calm at the prospect of coming so close to such male specimens. I glared at her for not being more teenagey and awkward. It totally made me look weird.
We walked past the counter where there were various pastries and delicious goods displayed. I held out my hand. “Come on, last chance. Sugary, bleached flour perfection going once, going twice....”
Lexie just stared at me.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Your loss. Although how you are going to sit through classes like math and English Lit without a sugar high is beyond me,” I said seriously as we walked out the door, surviving the brush with the world’s hottest men. My ovaries didn’t explode or anything.
Lexie shook her water bottle, which had pieces of lemon and cucumber floating around in it. “Don’t worry, this is vodka,” she deadpanned.
I put my hand on chest in mock relief. “Thank goddess. You are my daughter.”
I thought I heard a bark of male laughter as we closed the door. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see all of the hot guys staring at my daughter and me with smirks on their faces. Well, not all. The intense, hot one was staring at me with a stiff look on his chiseled face, his eyes glaring like I was responsible for the Beatles breaking up. I quickly glanced back around, slinging my arm around Lexie’s shoulder. I had other stuff to worry about, primarily my only child. Hot bikers did not factor into the equation. Well, not until I got my vibrator out later on that night.
“Right, let’s get you to your necromancer-infested high school,” I declared, shaking such thoughts away.
I glanced into the red brick building. “You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” I asked.
“Mom, I’m sure. I’ll be fine,” Lexie told me firmly, shuffling things around in her backpack.
I chewed my lip, looking at the various students filtering in the doors. They looked innocent now, but I knew how nasty kids could be. Especially girls. Especially when a new, beautiful, funny, and confident girl like my daughter came into such a small school. I narrowed my eyes at a crowd of them, hating them on sight.
“I could come in and establish myself as a crazy mom who has connections to the mob, so if anyone messes with you they’ll be sleeping with the fishes,” I suggested in an Italian accent.
Lexie stared at me.
“Or I could let you go in on your own and stop with the crazy mom thing,” I conceded.
“Thank you. Much appreciated. I’m assuming the mob thing will still be on the table if I choose to accept it at a later date?” she deadpanned.
I nodded. “Of course. The mob thing will always be on the table,” I told her reassuringly.
She grinned. I didn’t even know why I was worried. My kid was independent, confident, and comfortable in her own skin. How she was like that at sixteen I didn’t know. She was an old soul. She was content with her own company, whether she was reading a book or playing a guitar. She didn’t have a heap of close friends back in DC, but she didn’t need them. She was unique, an original. She knew her own mind. She had her own style down pat already; she was always decked out somewhere between Stevie Nix and Carrie Bradshaw. Today she was wearing a floral dress, which hit her mid leg. It had huge bell sleeves and nipped in at the waist. She was wearing knee high, tan leather high heeled boots and had multiple necklaces slung around her neck. Her ringlets were piled on her head in a messy bun.
Another thought popped into my mind.
I glanced back at the kids filtering into the building. My eyes zeroed in on a boy apart from the rest, leaning against a motorcycle in the parking lot. He was smoking and had aviators on. He was also a mini hot guy. The teenage version of what those men in the café were to me. In other words, trouble.
“Remember what I said about motorcycles.” I turned my attention back to Lexie. “I’ll do it. I’ll post the photo,” I promised.
Lexie leaned in and
kissed my cheek, shaking her head. “Okay, Mom,” she said with sarcasm.
She hadn’t sprouted a proper interest in boys yet, not that I knew of, and she told me everything. I knew it was coming though, the day she discovered the opposite sex. She pulled back slightly. “Good luck today. You’ll do great. I’m so proud of you.”
I swallowed. “You stole my line, kid,” I said, stroking her face lightly.
Lexie smiled. “See you later.”
She climbed out and I rolled down my window.
“Remember, Lexie, just say no,” I called to her.
“To drugs?” she asked with a slightly scrunched face.
“To boys with motorcycles, things like math club and anything consisting of frog dissection.” I said then paused. “Well, and drugs also.”
She blew me a kiss and joined the steady stream of kids walking through the doors. I narrowed my eyes at the smoking man-boy, whose sunglasses followed Lexie’s journey into the school. Crapballs.
“You think we should get the women some coffees before we break the news?” Brock asked Cade as they swung off their bikes.
Cade stared at him. “I think we need to give them vodka shots. But considering it’s eight in the morning and my woman is pregnant I’m settling for decaf and pastries.”
Brock shook his head. “I thought Gwen despised decaf. I’m pretty sure she once referred to it as ‘decaffeinated bullshit.’” He finger quoted as they entered the coffee shop.
Cade raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, this time around she’s craving coffee something wicked and decaf’s her only option. It’s under protest. I swear she fuckin’ flinches every time she takes a sip. Then glares at me for not lettin’ her have the normal shit.”
Brock laughed. The edges of Bull’s mouth turned up slightly. Gwen was the only bitch who could make him feel like happiness was possible. Not long term; it would never be long term. But he could have small moments of respite from the ash he tasted on his tongue, the poison swirling in his belly. Those moments were fleeting, brief as fuck. But his best friend’s Old Lady managed to make it seem like he could breathe slightly.
“I worry for my safety the moment I have to take cocktails and coffee away from Sparky,” Brock muttered as they approached the counter.
Cade chuckled and glanced down at his phone. “Hey, baby, you okay?” he answered softly.
Bull watched his friend. He swore every time he answered the phone he braced. His body relaxed as soon as his wife reassured him she was good. He didn’t blame him. Shit he went through with Gwen would make any man vigilant. Worried. That and the fact Gwen was a loose fucking unit. Add Amy and fuckin’ Rosie to the equation, and you had a recipe for disaster.
Brock started joking with Shelly while she got their coffees and Bull struggled to still his mind. Maybe struggled was too light a word. He fuckin’ battled, attacked and quietly combatted the demons which had taken up residence in the barren fuckin’ wasteland inside his head. Those demons were relentless. It was a constant war fighting the images, the memories that came with them. Every moment of every day he wasn’t on his bike was a moment he was engaged with those demons. It was constant. It was exhausting and it was the fight for his life, because he knew if he let those demons win, it was over.
So that’s what he was doing when he saw them. He was fighting those demons, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t. He was looking into eyes that stilled the battle. Silenced the screams. Those eyes gave him quiet. Gave him respite. Blue as the ocean. He struggled to move away from those eyes, to see the rest of her. She was beautiful. Fuckin’ stunning. His cock jerked in his pants at her heart shaped face. Her rosebud full lips, her long blonde hair curling around her face. Tits. Small but fuckin’ perfect. Then he caught himself. Then the demons came back and he scowled at her, the woman who had made him forget his fight.
“Coffee, brother?” Brock jerked him out of his head.
Bull tore his gaze away from those doe eyes. He jerked his head in answer.
Shelly smiled and waved in the direction of the table, which caused Brock to turn his eyes toward the woman. Those eyes. Bull tried. He fuckin’ battled not to follow Brock’s gaze, to meet those eyes again. But it seemed he was fuckin’ useless. He silently fumed at his inability to keep his eyes off her.
“Tourists?” Brock asked Shelly as the woman stood.
Bull’s cock hardened fully in his pants at the sight of her. Her tight little body was covered head to toe by a white blouse and tight black slacks, but there was no hiding it. Bull’s cock twitched again as she bent to retrieve a handbag, her ass perfectly hugged by the material encasing it. He visualized himself sinking into her from behind as his fingers bit into that ass.
“Nope,” Shelly answered as Bull struggled to get his cock under control. “They just moved here. Mia’s taking over management of The Cottage.”
Fuck. Fuckin’ living here? Bull would have to know this bitch was in his town, fuckin’ strutting that sweet ass around, trying to fuckin’ kill him? He clenched his fists.
“No shit?” Brock continued as he glanced at Bull. He felt like his teeth might shatter at the force with which he was clenching his jaw.
They silenced as she approached them. “Come on, last chance. Sugary, bleached flour perfection going once, going twice...” Her voice was soft and teasing as she smiled at the kid beside her. The kid was a fuckin’ imprint of the woman. Same golden hair, same doe eyes, ‘cept she had a small sprinkling of freckles where the woman had none. Her mother was wearing a fuckin’ sex kitten outfit; kid was clad in some hippie, rock star gear. They were the same, but different. Kid was going to be a fuckin’ knockout like her mom. He pulled his attention back to the exchange.
She stared at her mother in a way that made Bull think this had happened before. The teasing tone of the woman made him sure of it.
“Your loss. Although how you are going to sit through classes like math and English Lit without a sugar high is beyond me.” She shrugged her shoulders and he swore he heard a low chuckle from behind him. Bull struggled against the feeling he normally only felt with Gwen. That little feeling of warmth, of sunshine lighting up the darkness. They were almost out the door and the kid shook some fancy water bottle. “Don’t worry, this is vodka,” the kid said seriously.
Bull felt himself want to smile. Kid was funny.
He had started his day with the same grim determination that he had every day. To make it through. To fight the demons. Keep the club healthy. Rinse, repeat. He hadn’t expected this shit. He hadn’t expected to be blown off his fuckin’ feet by some bitch who threatened his entire existence. Some bitch he didn’t even know.
“Thank goddess. You are my daughter.” Her playful voice carried as the door shut behind them.
Yeah, he didn’t expect some bitch to make his cock twitch, make his demons quiet and make him laugh all at once.
I sat in my car staring at the building in front of me. It was a beautiful wooden building, pure white with blue shuttered windows. The arch leading into the hotel was intricate and welcoming. The wrought iron sign that read ”The Cottage” was ironic, considering this seaside mansion was a little more than a cottage. This place was a successful, busy and hugely well-known hotel and spa. It was regularly featured in travel magazines and even had the odd celebrity come for a detox or escape from the circus that was Hollywood. And I was in charge of whether it ran successfully or not. Well, I wasn’t technically ”in charge” yet. I was “in charge” when I got out of my car and walked underneath that arch and into the place. Which was why I was sitting in my car. That and I was trying to banish the dark eyes and haunted scowl that was burned into my memory.
I jumped slightly as my phone rang. I clung to another reason to delay the weight of responsibility that would come when I entered the doors I was staring at.
“Hello, Mia Spencer speaking.” I greeted the blocked number professionally, just in case it was like, the president or something. It could happen.
> “You’re sitting in your car right now too scared to go in, aren’t you?” a familiar voice greeted.
I sat up straighter as if he could see me. “No, I am doing nothing of the sort, I’m about to walk in the doors right now,” I lied.
“Bullshit,” the voice said. “You’re sitting in the car because you’re scared of walking through those doors. Let me tell you now, there’s nothing to be scared of. You’re going to do great. That place is going to blossom under your management. I know that. I believe in you,” the voice told me firmly.
I sank back into my seat. “You think so?” I asked weakly.
“I know so. I wouldn’t have hired you otherwise. I like money. And I have a feeling you’re going to make me a shit ton of it,” he said lightly.
I smirked. “I should have asked for a bigger salary then.”
“You make me half as much as I think you will, I’ll give it to you and a holiday to the Caribbean,” Steve promised.
“You should know Lexie and I only fly private,” I replied with a fake haughty tone. It was ironic, considering Lexie and I had never left the country. Being a struggling single mom, I couldn’t exactly afford vacations in Europe.
“Of course,” Steve said with a smile in his voice.