Starting Over by Mia Malone

Chapter One

Coq au Vin

Rosie

I looked around the establishment I’d just entered but couldn’t find the man I was looking for. A woman I assumed was his girlfriend had answered his phone and told me he’d be here, though, so I closed the door behind me and walked up to the bar. It was lunchtime, and I was hungry, so I’d just grab something to eat while I waited.

The place was half full, and most of the customers seemed to like black leather.

And facial hair.

I had been to biker bars before, but the ones Richard and his friends in the Harley Owners Group usually picked had been a bit more upscale, and as I put my heavy bag down on the wooden floor, I wondered if this perhaps was more of a biker place than what I was used to.

There wasn’t anyone behind the bar, but people were talking angrily in the kitchen, and I decided to wait until they’d resolved whatever needed resolving.

Then someone roared something unintelligible, and steps approached.

“Coop,” a female voice said calmly. “You know I’m right.”

“No,” a man barked and came marching through the door behind the bar. “You can absolutely not put that on the menu.”

“I’ve already cooked it,” a slim woman in a chef’s apron snapped. “We agreed on the menu for this week, and today I cooked what we agreed upon.”

She stopped in front of him and glared, but he glared right back, so I didn’t think they’d notice that I was watching them openly.

The man seemed to be over the top pissed off about a today’s special.

“Of course, I said okay,” he roared. “You called it chicken fucking casserole!”

“And it is,” the woman retorted. “Kind of. I just want to put the proper name on the menu board.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“Watch me,” she snapped suddenly and moved over to the blackboard on the wall.

She wrote the item at the bottom with jerky movements, put the chalk down, turned, and smirked.

I looked at it and felt my brows move up in surprise.

Coq au Vin.

She had written goddamned Coq au Vin on the menu board. I’d been to France and had eaten the dish several times. I loved it but had not expected to find it on the menu in a slightly run-down biker place located in a small town outside Seattle.

“Addie, for fuck’s sake,” the man growled. “You know what everyone will say.”

I tried to hold back a giggle but failed miserably because, yeah. I suddenly got why he was pissed, but it was kind of funny.

The woman turned, and when our eyes met, we shared a moment of sisterhood-glee.

She totally knew what everyone would say too, and found it hilarious.

“Our bartender had to step out for a while. I’ll be with you in a sec,” she said to me and disappeared into the kitchen, followed by the red-haired man.

She came back out almost immediately with a smile on her face. At the same time, a group of tall men walked up to the other end of the bar, nodded at her, and sat down. One of them continued in behind the bar and waved at the cook, so I assumed he was the missing bartender. She waved back at him but leaned forward toward me.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “Are you here for lunch?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“What can we get you?”

I should probably have ordered a burger or perhaps a salad, but I just couldn’t stop myself.

“I’d like some Coq, please,” I said with a sweet smile.

The Roadhouse was suddenly very quiet, except for the chef’s bubbly giggle.

“Who doesn’t?” she said happily. “Big or a small?”

Laughter made its way up my throat, but I pressed it back immediately and kept a straight face.

“Oh, a big one, of course.”

Her eyes lit up with laughter as she leaned forward over the bar and said, “Excellent choice. I’m Addie, and I’ll have it plated quickly.”

“I’m Rosie,” I said, not sure if introducing myself was the right thing to do, but since she looked friendly and had a fantastic sense of humor, it seemed appropriate.

“Welcome to the Roadhouse, Rosie,” she said, turned, and walked off toward the kitchen. “On big Coq coming...” she stopped and turned with another laugh as she finished, “Up.”

“Jesus,” the red-haired man muttered, glared at me as if I was responsible for the menu, and walked over to join the biker brethren at the other end of the bar.

“So, Rosie,” the bartender said. “What brings you to the Roadhouse?”

I had told his colleague I was there for lunch, but since I wasn’t dressed in leather and did not have ungroomed facial hair, I knew I was a little out of place, so the question wasn’t entirely surprising.

“I’m looking for Eirik Hagen,” I said. “I called him, and the girl who answered his phone said he would be here.”

“Eirik? Oh, you mean Eye?”

“Probably,” I said.

I had not heard that particular nickname before, but since he had the eyes of an Alaskan husky, it was apt.

“He’ll be probably here in a bit,” the bartender who, according to the patch on his vest, wanted to be called Hilt said, turned and noticed the menu board.

He promptly started laughing but stopped abruptly when heavy steps approached me.

“Why do you want to see Eye?”

I turned toward the deep, rumbling voice and was about to explain but froze instead.

The man standing next to me was big. Not big in a fat way, but in a tall and enormously muscular way. He had long hair pulled back in a ponytail and a full beard. His tight tee had a motorcycle print across the chest, and tattoos peeked out beneath the sleeves on both arms.

I really shouldn’t find him attractive. I’d never liked long hair on a man, and if they were completely unable to shave, then a goatee might be okay, but even that was a stretch.

He might be huge, but his body was absolutely fantastic, though, and his eyes were a soft chocolatey brown. I loved chocolate with a vengeance and couldn’t stop myself from blinking rapidly and also inanely, but holy shit was this man hot.

“I need him,” I murmured, realized my mistake, and clarified, “Need to see him so I can give him –”

“He’s taken.”

“Where?” I asked stupidly.

“The woman you talked to is his girlfriend, so you can forget about whatever it is you’re here for.”

He’d looked a little unhappy to start with, and his anger seemed to increase at the same pace as my eyes widened.

“But –”

My attempt at explaining was yet again thwarted.

“We don’t need any overaged groupies in here, so you should probably get the fuck out immediately.”

His words hit me like a sledgehammer, and my eyes suddenly burned with a mix of anger and tears.

I’d just admitted to myself that I found him hot, but he’d looked at me and assumed I was there to hook up with Eirik.

And oh, God.

He’d called me overaged, which was insulting but not entirely incorrect.

I didn’t feel ancient, but I knew my age, which was fifty-three and hence roughly twenty years Eirik’s senior.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

The place was completely silent as I reached for my bag, hoping that I would manage to get out before I started crying.

“Rosie,” the cook said sharply behind the bar. “Stay just one second.” She held her phone to her ear and added, “Please?”

The angry man next to me made a huffing sound, and I shook my head, but she ignored it and spoke into the phone.

“Baby, you have to get back right now. There’s a woman here to see Eye, and Tony is losing his shit.” She was silent for a beat but added, “Our age, dark wavy hair, blue eyes. Says her name is Rosie.” There was another short silence, and then she looked at me, “Is Rosie a nickname?”

“Yes,” I said. “My real name is Rosalind. Rosalind Watts.”

She repeated it, and almost immediately something which strongly resembled humor flashed in her eyes, but she pushed it back, said something about later, and put her phone down.

“Eye will be here in five, and he says for you to please stay.” She turned toward the man next to me. “Says for you to back the fuck off, or he’ll fucking kill you.”

“What the –”

“Tony,” she snapped with considerable steel in her voice and added in a slow, slightly condescending voice, “Back the fuck off before you shove your head even further up your ass.”

It looked like their discussion would escalate into something which might not end well, so I picked my bag off the floor.

“Please don’t argue,” I said firmly. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems, and I’ll leave. If someone could give Eirik these, I’d appreciate it.”

I indicated the bag in my hand and put it down again in front of the man called Tony.

Tony was apparently president according to the small label on his vest, but what in the hell he was president of I did not know and also did not care about.

Then I turned and marched out of the Roadhouse, although my exit was interrupted halfway to the door by a small but surprisingly strong hand around my elbow.

“Rosie, please stay,” Addie murmured and moved us toward a table to the side. “I know who you are, and dear God, I will enjoy this so much.”

“What?”

“Tony is usually not this much of a jerk, and I don’t know what crawled up his ass, but he was wrong.” She flashed a grin and added, “Really, really wrong. So, he’ll have to apologize, which is the part I will enjoy.”

“You know who I am?” I echoed and sat down when she indicated that I should.

I knew I should leave, but her eyes were friendly, and I suddenly also wanted to hear the apology from the big, angry man because she was right.

He had been a jerk and really, really wrong.

“Finn told me,” she said but turned with a hand raised to make a slight huffing sound when heavy boots approached. “Tony,” she added warningly, and the man turned and marched back to where my bag was.

“Finn?” I asked.

“Finn is the Sergeant at Arms in the club and my husband. Eye’s girlfriend is his daughter.”

“What club?”

She stared at me, and humor crept into her eyes.

“Eye didn’t tell you? Cascadia MC.”

I was about to tell her that Eirik and I didn’t have the kind of relationship where we discussed club memberships or any other private details.

That was one of the things I’d decided to change about my life, though, and I didn’t want to sound like a complete bitch, so I just nodded and murmured blandly, “Okay.”

“What did you bring for Eye?”

I still had a little trouble reconciling the quiet and serious young man I knew as Eirik with someone nicknamed Eye, who apparently was a member of a motorcycle club of the kind that had a Sergeant at Arms.

“I just brought some books,” I shared.

“Oh,” she said, suddenly smiling happily again. “Do you like reading?”

I did, although the books I had brought for Eirik, was not the kind of literature I spent my free time devouring.

“Who doesn’t?” I asked breezily, but in the interest of not being such an uptight moron, I added stupidly, “Book clubs are great.”

That wasn’t entirely true or not true when it came to my current book club, but still, and I was saved from elaborating when the door to the Roadhouse suddenly was thrown open, and two men walked in.

One of them was a man more or less my age. He was handsome in the same bikery-rough way as the red-haired man Addie had argued with. Which incidentally was the same way Tony-the-jerk looked, damn him.

The other man was Eirik.

“Professor Watts?” he said, sounding a little surprised, which on the one hand was understandable because he hadn’t seen me in anything but boring, navy-blue suits before and never outside the university.

On the other hand, he had been informed that I was there.

“Eirik,” I said calmly, acutely aware that the room was eerily silent. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I talked to –”

“Samantha,” he cut in. “I talked to her on my way over, and you aren’t disturbing.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ve been clearing out my office and just wanted to drop off some books I thought you might like to have.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he said. “You didn’t have to –”

“Not a problem. I won’t need them,” I said.

And I wouldn’t, which still made my gut drop into a mini freefall.

I’d shocked the shit out of most of my acquaintances and all of my co-workers by resigning from my position at the university without any plans for my immediate future. Eventually, I’d have to find a job, but I had a healthy savings account, so I had time to figure out what I wanted to do. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan, though.

Hence the cold shiver in my belly.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave,” Eirik said. “I’ve enjoyed working with you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ve enjoyed working with you too...” I paused but decided that what the hell? I’d just tell him. “I want you to know that I recommended the board to appoint you as my replacement. They haven’t made their minds up yet, and I don’t know what they’ll do, but yeah...” I gave him a smile that suddenly was a little wobbly because I’d realized that I had enjoyed working with him and I’d miss him. “I tried,” I finished with a shrug.

“You recommended me?” he asked, and I almost laughed when I saw his surprise. “I’m not –”

“Yes, you are. I wouldn’t have pushed for you if you weren’t,” I said firmly.

“Okay.” He pulled a hand across his hair and added with a crooked grin, “Thanks.”

I suddenly realized that I might look different than what he was used to, but he looked different too. His usual chinos and long-sleeved shirts were replaced by torn and slightly dirty jeans and a tee with a skull and some faux gothic letters. He had tattoos on his arms, which I hadn’t seen before, and I grinned at him.

“Do me a favor?” I asked.

“Anything, Professor Watts,” he said immediately.

“Two favors,” I amended my request. “I’m not a professor anymore, so please call me Rosie. And also, if you get the position... Don’t cover your tattoos. If the stuffy old fools can’t handle it, that’s their problem.”

He glanced at his arm as if the tats had appeared out of nowhere and chuckled.

“I’ll call you Rosie of you call me Eye,” he said.

“This is apparently for you,” a deep voice rumbled, and the bag I’d brought was placed on the floor next to Eye with a thud.

“You need to –”

Whatever Eye had meant to tell the president of the club he apparently was a member of was cut off immediately.

“I know, and I will,” Tony said. Then he waited, although, for what, I did not know. “You’re not leaving?” he muttered, looking at Addie.

“Not a chance,” Addie chirped. “I wanna hear this.”

“Hear what?” Eye asked.

“He told Rosie that she should leave you alone and that we don’t need any overaged groupies here. Then he asked her to get the fuck out of the Roadhouse.”

Eye straightened, and his face hardened, but Tony didn’t back down.

“What the hell was I supposed to think?” he barked. “She walked in here asking for big cocks and specifically for you. We all know you have one, and I didn’t –”

Yikes. That was information I could have lived happily for the rest of my life without.

“What the fuck?” Eye growled. “Sam asked her to come here, and you insulted her and threw her out?”

“Tried to,” I murmured, since I was still standing there, so technically, I had actually not been thrown out.

“What is wrong with you?” Eye went on as if he hadn’t heard me, which he might not have done since he was standing face to face with the taller and bigger, albeit older man.

“How the hell was I supposed to know?” Tony roared right back. “Sam is my goddamned goddaughter, and I didn’t want to –”

“I will never, ever step out on Samantha. This is not who I am, and you know it.”

“Calm down,” the man I assumed was Addie’s man Finn said. “We know.”

“No, we don’t,” Tony barked. “And then some woman walks in all wiggly tits and ass and how the hell was I –”

He cut himself off and stared sheepishly at me.

I suddenly heard a weird swooshing sound in my ears, and it took a few beats for me to realize it was my pulse. I wasn’t skinny by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn’t overweight in any way, and had the assholey jerk just called me fat?

Oh, hell no.

“Tony,” Addie snapped, but I raised my hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said and smiled sweetly at the now uncomfortable biker president in front of me.

“Don’t –” Addie started, but I cut her off.

“It’s not a problem. I understand,” I said breezily. “Reaching the later stages of middle-age isn’t easy for some men.” I widened my smile so much I wondered if my face would split right down the middle, but pushed on, “And the size of their genitals is, of course, a sensitive topic, especially when there are younger and apparently much more well-endowed men available.”

A needle hitting the floor would have sounded like an earthquake as I nodded at Addie.

“It was nice meeting you,” I said and turned to my former research assistant. “Eirik.”

Then I walked out of the Roadhouse and didn’t stop until I was by my car.

That had been an unpleasant experience, and I was still seething, but I also grinned because I’d ended the whole thing with what I silently thought had been a pretty magnificent exit.

***

Tony

“What the –”

Tony cut himself off and closed his mouth with a snap.

“That was my fucking boss, asshole,” Eye said. “You’d better find a way to apologize that doesn’t involve calling her fat.”

When no one else said anything, Tony turned toward Finn, who had pressed his lips together firmly. His tee was moving suspiciously around his midriff, though.

“Are you laughing?”

“She thinks you have a small dick, man,” Finn pressed out. “Fuck yeah, I’m laughing.”

“Gutsy,” Hilt chimed in from the bar.

“The fuck?” Tony muttered.

He knew he’d behaved like a complete idiot, and Eye was right. He would have to find a way to apologize, but the way all the men were grinning was annoying.

“She told a huge, angry biker president she’d never met before that he has a mid-life crisis,” Addie said in a voice shaking with held back laughter. “She apparently doesn’t scare easily. And yes. She does think you have a small penis.”

Laughter echoed in the room, and Tony felt his anger drain away because they were right. It had been gutsy and also a little bit funny.

“Nothing small about my dick,” he muttered and looked at Eye. “Probably bigger than yours anyway.”

“Can we stop talking about Eye’s fucking crotch?” Finn asked with a slightly pained expression on his face.

“Huh,” Tony grunted and turned to Addie. “Why the hell were you discussing cocks in the first place?”

Addie calmly walked over to the menu board and pointed at what they were having as today’s special.

Well, shit.