Starting Over by Mia Malone

Chapter Five

Overtures

Tony

He woke up slowly with Rosie in his arms and a dog staring at him from a close enough distance to ensure he got a good whiff of dog breath straight up his nostrils.

The big, black animal looked like some kind of retriever, and it was clearly laughing its doggy behind off. Tony couldn’t hold a smile of his own back, and for the first time in over ten years, he wondered if it wasn’t perhaps time to think about getting a dog again.

When the dog ambled off and sank down with a satisfied grunt in the shadow next to some bushes, Tony felt a slight tension under his arm and knew that Rosie was awake.

Right.

Time to clear the air and see if he could convince her to forgive him for real.

“This curve here,” he murmured and let his hand slowly glide from her ribs, down over her waist, and over her hip. “I walked into the Roadhouse, and it was the first thing I saw.” He moved the hand back up and then slowly down again. “I liked.”

“Tony,” she mumbled but didn’t move away.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I saw something I liked and thought you were there to offer it to one of the boys in the club. Then I misunderstood what you and Addie were joking about and behaved like an ass because I didn’t stop to think.” He leaned forward a little and murmured into her ear, “I didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry, Rosie. I really am.”

“You called me fat,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I get that it might have sounded like that,” he said and held her tighter to his chest when she moved a little. “I was frustrated and somehow tossed out a stupid word that sounded really bad, but I didn’t mean to imply that you are anything but absolutely gorgeous.”

She relaxed, so he let his hand slide over her side again and waited to see what she’d do.

“I called you middle-aged,” she said.

“I am middle-aged,” he stated. “Pretty sure I don’t have a fucking mid-life crisis, though, and the rest wasn’t exactly...” he trailed off and wondered how the hell he was going to discuss her incorrect assumption about his dick-size without sounding like a juvenile and also pathetically needy moron.

“I know,” she mumbled.

“What?”

She was silent for a while, but then she tilted her head forward, so when she spoke, her words were muffled by the pillow.

“I needed face cream, so I opened a drawer in your bathroom. Used the hand balm, and saw... you know?”

He barked out a short laugh but bit it back and pulled gently until she turned to look at him.

“Saw what?” he asked teasingly, knowing precisely what she’d seen and what size they were.

“Tony,” she mumbled, and a blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m not going to discuss condom sizes in the middle of my lawn.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s discuss this tonight when we have dinner instead.”

Her eyes widened, and the way she opened her soft mouth made him want to kiss her.

“I don’t date,” she stated.

It had not been what he expected her to say, but it also wasn’t no.

“You don’t date in general, or just not me?” he asked.

“Both.”

That was another unexpected reply, and since she was still in his arms also a little ridiculous.

“Rosie,” he said with a grin and added, “Brunch.”

“What?”

“I told your neighbor you invited me for brunch, so let’s go inside.” He got up and reached for her hand. “I really need some coffee.”

“What?” she repeated but got up on her feet when he pulled gently.

“I brought chocolate cupcakes,” he said, smiled at her, and tilted his head toward the house. “Let’s eat.”

***

Rosie

Tony-the-jerk had morphed into confusing-Tony, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle him.

I had expected him to accept my polite note with a shrug, and if we happened to meet again, we’d simply nod in an equally polite way and leave it like that.

I had not expected him to be a spooner who slept with me and my dog, and absolutely not that he’d apologize in a way that made warm, mushy feelings settle in my chest.

Then we were suddenly in my kitchen, and I had somehow agreed to make coffee.

“So, Rosie,” he said calmly, watching the coffee maker as if he was trying to make it brew faster. “Forgiven me?”

“Yes,” I said, a little embarrassed about not making him grovel more, so I kept my eyes on the steady drips of dark brown liquid making their way into the pot.

“For real, or will I get another snooty note from you?”

“What?” I said, forgot to be embarrassed, and looked at him.

He was smiling a little and leaned closer to murmur, “Best regards? Abbreviated? Really, Rosie?”

Oh.

“Well, what was I supposed to write?” I asked. “Bye-bye seemed a little –”

He’d started laughing, and the way his eyes looked when he was happy was just beautiful, so I stopped talking and watched him.

“I don’t know what you should have written,” he snorted. “Pretty sure best regards wasn’t it, babe.”

“I’ll write something else next time,” I said, faking haughtiness as I raised a brow and added, “Little x’s and o’s perhaps?”

“There won’t be a next time,” he said.

It was a struggle to keep my face blank and not let my disappointment show. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and absolutely not with Tony Ryan, but it still hurt a little that he dismissed me so bluntly.

“Okay,” I murmured and started turning, but he quickly put an arm around my back and pulled me to his side.

Our eyes met, and the mood suddenly shifted. Heat flashed in his brown gaze, and he slowly slid a hand over my waist and hip.

“Rosalind.” His voice was a deep rumble, and it made a slight shiver run through me. “I won’t let you find an excuse to sneak out like that again.” His hand made another sweep over my hip, and I put a hand on his chest to steady myself. “Next time you sleep in my bed, you’ll stay.”

“I’m not –”

“I’m warning you, baby. I’ll do my best to get you back there, and once you’re there, you will have no desire to leave.”

The images he planted in my brain with that statement were hot.

Scorching.

I tried to tell myself that this was an incredibly bad idea, but neither my mind nor my body seemed to listen to reason, and I felt my pulse quicken.

“I might have to file a complaint about harassment,” I said, hoping I sounded cheeky and not as if I was actually planning to file anything anywhere.

“Harassment is such an ugly word,” he said softly and moved even closer.

I did not move away.

“It is,” I confirmed and looked up at him under my lashes. I hadn’t flirted with anyone in a very, very long time, and it felt good. “So, what would you call it then?”

“Unwanted overtures,” he mumbled into my hair as he leaned down a little. When he used a hand to slowly slide my hair away, the tips of his fingers caressed the side of my neck, and a quiver went through my belly and downward. “The question is, are they?”

“Overtures?” I asked and tilted my head a little to the side.

“Oh, babe, it’s definitely overtures...” he said and made a trail with his lips from my shoulder all the way to my ear. “But are they unwanted?”

They were not.

“Probably not,” I acknowledged.

“Good,” he said on a soft exhale. “Probably not I can work with.” His tongue made a sweep over my earlobe. “I’ll get us to absolutely not in no time, and then...” I felt his smile against my cheek, and then he used a hand to turn my head until we were facing each other. “We’ll see what happens.”

The way my mind had become a befuddled mess was a little embarrassing, but I raised my chin a little.

“Arrogant much?” I asked.

“Yeah, babe, I am,” he said with a knowing grin. “And I think you like that.”

I totally did, and the way he watched me with calm confidence but also eyes full of humor did something to me.

I wasn’t going to admit that, though.

“Maybe,” I murmured. “But then again, maybe I don’t. I guess we’ll just have to...” I lowered my eyelids a little and felt my lips twitch with a smile. “See what happens.”

He started laughing, and I grinned up at him, although mostly because of how his brown eyes had softened.

“Babe,” he muttered. “I’m gonna have my hands full with you, won’t I?”

“You could use your hands to get some lemonade from the fridge,” I said primly. “The coffee is done.”

That got me another grin and a swipe of his thumb over my cheek before he turned. I brought down a couple of glasses, put them on the counter next to the fridge, and reached for a plate to put the cupcakes on.

“This looks really good,” he said. “I wasn’t quite as ipsy-tipsy as you last night, but I’m still thirsty.”

I wondered why the hell I had shared that silly expression with him the evening before, but also why a plastic bottle of lemonade from the supermarket would be special, so I turned. To my surprise, he’d instead brought out a large jug, filled his glass, and raised it to his lips.

“You probably shouldn’t,” I wheezed out and watched as he took a large gulp of the yellow liquid. “Drink that,” I finished, which he probably didn’t hear because he was choking and promptly started coughing.

“Fu –”

He seemed to have trouble breathing and leaned over the sink, snarling and retching.

“Tony,” I said shakily. “Are you okay?”

“Unff,” he pushed out and groaned, “Do I look like I’m fucking okay?”

He actually didn’t.

“Um,” I mumbled.

“Got it in my fucking sinuses. Fuck it burns,” he hissed, and I quickly tore off a piece of paper and handed it to him. He promptly blew his nose, coughed some more, and leaned over the sink again but turned his red, teary eyes toward me. “What the fuck was that?”

A bright yellow drop slowly ran from his left nostril, and I shouldn’t. Dear Lord, I really shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop a giggle from bubbling up my throat.

Tony-the-jerk had been a little bit intimidating, and confusing-Tony had been surprisingly sexy and flirty, and I hadn’t been sure how to act around either.

This was just a normal man who had accidentally lined his sinus cavities with the cleansing brew I took a shot of each morning.

I could handle that man.

“Are you laughing at me?” he rasped out.

I pushed the small giggle back immediately and reached for some more paper.

“No,” I protested. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I should have stopped you but –”

“What the fuck did I just drink?” he growled. “Please tell me it wasn’t some weird science experiment.”

“Of course not,” I said and pushed back more laughter when he cleared his throat and spat into the sink. “It’s my detox shot.”

“Detox shot,” he echoed and turned to look at me. “You actually drink that shit?”

“Every morning.”

“Why?”

“It’s good for...” I trailed off because I wasn’t entirely sure exactly why it was beneficial, but I’d read about it everywhere a while back and figure it couldn’t hurt. “Well-being,” I mumbled.

“Huh.”

“And inflammations,” I added quickly because there was turmeric in it, so it should be.

“Do you have any inflammations?” he asked.

“No.” His eyes filled with laughter, so I hastened to add, “But I could have had plenty if it weren’t for my detox shot.”

“Right,” he muttered and turned toward the fridge, but I saw the grin he tried to hide.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m definitely awake now,” he said and pulled out the lemonade.

“Excellent,” I said with a smirk. “Do you still want coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” he said, took a couple of quick steps over to my side, pulled me into his side, and mumbled, “I was going to kiss you, but after making a fool of myself, I think that’s gonna be delayed until after dinner tonight.”

“Are we having dinner tonight?” I asked. “But –”

“Ah. I forgot about the not dating anyone and also not me thing,” he cut me off and ordered, “Explain.”

“I thought you wanted coffee?” I said in an attempt at deflecting.

“Rosie.”

“And cupcakes?”

“Tell me first.”

“It’s embarrassing and pathetic,” I said.

“Rosalind,” he said and squeezed me a little. “If you didn’t want to tell me, you would just have said no.”

Well, shit.

He might have a point there, which I wasn’t going to admit.

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” I mumbled, partially into his tee. “And I really like Addie and Momo.”

“They’re good women,” he said when I stopped talking. “So?”

“If I go on a date with you or whatever, and you end up thinking that I’m a dork, or if I find out that you really are Tony-the-jerk...” I raised my head to look at him. “Then I can’t be friends with them anymore.”

He blinked in surprise.

“Babe,” he said with a sigh. “It doesn’t work like that. Finn’s ex is a fucking pain in everyone’s asses, but she hangs out with some of the women still. And you know Hilt?” He waited for my nod to confirm that I did indeed know who Hilt was. “His ex was at the party last night. They split up almost two years ago, it was semi-amicably according to him, and she’s tight with a lot of people.”

“Oh,” I said. “I thought you guys would just tell them –”

His chuckle cut me off, and I frowned.

“Do you really think anyone can tell either of them who they should or shouldn’t spend time with?”

Ah.

That was another good point.

“You might be right about that,” I said and tried to turn toward the coffee maker, not entirely convinced but hoping that the conversation was over.

It wasn’t.

“Okay, so that covers why you won’t have dinner with me specifically. Was that the embarrassing or pathetic part?” Tony asked curiously.

“The pathetic part,” I said with a sigh. He waited calmly for me to continue, so I decided that what the heck. I’d let him laugh a little at me. “The embarrassing part is that I haven’t done something like this in a very long time, so I don’t know how to do it.” Then I bugged my eyes out at him and snapped, “There. Can we have coffee now?”

Something flashed in his eyes, but then he let go of me and nodded.

“Yes, Rosie. We can have coffee now.” He opened the paper bag and started pulling out cupcakes that looked fantastic. “We’ll ease you into it gently.”

“What?”

“We’ll go to the Roadhouse.”

“What?” I repeated squeakily.

“Babe,” he said patiently. “Coffee. Cupcakes. Relax, walk your dog, sleep some more or whatever, and then we’ll have dinner.” He grinned and added, “Simple, even for a rookie.” I got another grin, and then he finished. “A burger at the Roadhouse does not qualify as a date, babe.”

“You have the whole day planned?” I asked.

“Unless you want me to leave,” he countered and moved the cupcakes to the table. “I will if you tell me to.”

I didn’t tell him to leave.

Instead, I reached for two mugs, which made him burst out laughing, and then I poured us some coffee.

***

“Whoo-boy,” Momo squealed and fanned herself. “That man is slick.”

“Who’s a dick?” I mumbled and tapped on my phone, letting my realtor know that yes, I was open to discussing a very short closing period in case I got an offer I thought was good enough.

“Rosie, focus,” she snapped. “He isn’t a dick. I said that he’s s-l-i-c-k.”

I straightened slowly and stared at her.

“Who?” I asked stupidly.

“The guy you’re dating,” she smirked slightly and added, “Tony.”

“We’re actually not dating,” I informed her because we weren’t.

“Like I said. Slick.”

“Momo, for heaven’s sake,” I snapped, “We had dinner at the Roadhouse.”

“Date. And that’s it?” she asked.

It wasn’t which she knew.

“Well, he helped me sort through the remaining stuff in my garage,” I shared but didn’t add that we’d spent an hour tossing a ball with an ecstatic Blue.

“Did he kiss you?”

“A little,” I admitted.

He had kissed me, but it had only been soft brushes of his mouth against mine, and I hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him that I really wanted a bit more than that.

“Date. What else?”

“Breakfast before he left for Bellingham the other day.”

My house was on the way, or almost on the way, so it made perfect sense for Tony to load up on coffee with me.

“Date. And?”

“Well, dinner when he was on his way back, but they had ordered way too much food, so he had leftov –”

She started laughing, and I stared at her.

“They’re probably still in shock up in Bellingham.”

“Why?”

“Tony Ryan grabbing leftovers? Hilarious.” She chuckled and added, “Also, Date.”

“We’re not dating,” I insisted.

And we weren’t because I’d said that I didn’t, and Tony had said that we weren’t.

“Okay,” she drawled. “If you say so. What are you and Mr. Slick doing tonight?”

“We’re making dumplings.”

Momo dropped the spoon she’d just filled with tomato soup, and red drops splattered all over her rather large chest area. She didn’t seem to notice and just sat there, staring at me.

“Duh,” she wheezed out, swallowed, and restarted. “Dumplings?”

“We both like them and thought it would be fun to learn. Addie is teaching us.”

“Addie is teaching you?” she echoed, still ignoring the splotches of soup on her white tee.

“Yeah. Finn hasn’t made dumplings either, so he’ll –”

She squealed loudly, and Chao came running from their garden.

“What the hell is wrong?” he barked.

“Tony and Finn are making dumplings,” Momo managed to get out between loud bursts of laughter. “God, who would have thought they’d ever be so cute again!”

“What are you talking about, woman?” he barked, although slightly less aggressively now that he’d realized nothing was wrong.

She explained, and a grin spread on his face.

“What would you call that?” Momo asked him, with a sly glance at me.

“A double date,” Chao said with a grin. “Jesus, you’re right. It’s like high school all over again.”

“You went to high school with Tony and Finn?” I asked.

“Yeah. They were famous.”

“Infamous,” Momo said and added, “I was in the same class as Emma.”

Ah. Tony’s sister, who I hadn’t met since she was on a trip somewhere.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it, but it was a message from my realtor who wanted to confirm that he’d received my text.

I also noticed the time and shot out of my chair.

“God, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I was just stopping by to drop off that book, and I should have been there by now.” I made a sweeping motion with my hand in front of Momo. “And you need to wash off that soup, or you’ll never get the stains out.”

“Worth it,” she said with a shrug. “Have fun on your date.”

“Not a date.”

“Rosie,” she said quietly, and the way she suddenly wasn’t laughing anymore made me stop moving.

“Yes?”

“I’ve made fun of the whole thing, but maybe I shouldn’t have.” Her eyes were kind and gentle when she added, “He’s a good guy, and I like him a lot. If you seriously don’t want to get involved, then you need to tell him.”

“Momo...”

“Make your mind up and let him know, Rosie.”

“It’s just...”

I trailed off and swallowed, feeling foolish and awkward in a way I hadn’t felt with Momo before.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I was so lonely,” I said quietly. “I know people. I’m not a pathetic hermit, you know?” I tried to smile to indicate that this was a joke, but she watched me calmly, so I went on. “He said it would be okay.”

“What would be okay?”

“If we mess things up, then he said that I could still be friends with everyone. I still got to hang out with you, and Addie, and the others.”

Her face softened, but then she smiled that wide, cheeky grin that always spread joy to the people around her.

“As if Tony Ryan could tell me who I should hang out with,” she scoffed and added, “And I really would like to see him try to tell Addie. She’d kick him in the nuts.”

“Addie would –”

“Repeatedly.”

“Addie would –”

“Rosie, please,” she said, still smiling, but I saw the intent look in her eyes. “You can dump Tony on his ass so hard he gets a bruise the size of Texas, and we’d still be your friends.”

“Okay,” I whispered and added, “My mind is pretty much made up, actually.”

We looked at each other in silence for a beat, and then she suddenly smiled. “Yeah, I can see that it is, so take the man out of his misery and just do him, alright?”

“I should just –”

“Yup.” She waved dismissively toward the door. “Now go, they’re waiting, and I have a tee to soak before I get to work.”

I thought about what she’d said as I drove the short distance to Finn and Addie’s house.

I wasn’t stupid, so we could pretend we weren’t dating, but I knew that we were tentatively starting something.

If I hadn’t wanted that, I would have said no already when Tony curved his tall frame around my back that day on my lawn.

Didn’t he know that?

Perhaps that was why he hadn’t kissed me, or not with tongue anyway, since that day which admittedly was just a couple of weeks ago, but still.

Chris Stapleton was singing on the radio, and he suddenly belted out that nobody would win afraid of losing, and I laughed out loud.

“When in doubt, listen to country songs,” I said to myself with a soft smile. “They always have the answers.”

My grandmother had said that so many times over the years and proved it right by finding cheesy lyrics suitable to every occasion as I grew up.

As I got out of my car, I decided that if Momo and Chao were right and this was indeed a double date, I’d push back my jitters and make sure Tony knew that if he still wanted to make any kind of overtures, then those would in no way be unwanted.