I sputtered a laugh.
“Oh, I know for a fact your daddy didn’t teach you how to flirt like that.”
Ruby grinned, and I could have sworn the tips of her ears turned pink. She tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder and held out a cup of coffee to me, with my name scribbled in swirling black ink, punctuated by a winking smiley face.
“One Christmas Surprise Special, on the house, as promised,” she declared.
I took the cup, examining the contents—smothered in red and green sprinkles, drowning in a cloud of whipped cream. It smelled sugary-sweet and sharp with peppermint.
“You know, I usually take my coffee with a healthy splash of whiskey,” I said.
Ruby propped her hands on the front counter.
“So, this will be something a little different than what you’re used to.”
With a skeptical grimace, I took a sip. Then I reared back, coughing.
“Holy shit, honeybee. That’s just liquid sugar. Jesus Christ, how can you drink that?”
She beamed, victorious.
“I developed the recipe myself. It’s a holiday regular on the menu now. We do it every year.”
She looked so damn pleased with herself and adorable that I didn’t pay attention when I lifted the cup to my lips and took another drink. I grimaced again—I was too old for this shit.
“Get used to it, tough guy,” Ruby said. “That’s your first taste of our Christmas celebration. All. Week. Long.”
Fuck. What did I just get myself into?
Ruby and Barrett had to work until late in the afternoon, so I kept myself busy around town. Catching up with friends. Visiting my old stomping grounds at the Reckless Order clubhouse.
It felt good to see familiar faces again. Men that I had called brother at one time.
But a few faces weren’t there anymore—packed up and moved to greener pastures. Or simply…passed on.
That part was strange, to realize how much had changed while I was away.
Making the decision to leave the Reckless Order MC had not been an easy one. Especially after so many years climbing the ranks. Wearing the VP patch carried a weight of responsibility with it, and my brothers looked up to me when shit hit the fan.
Then one day, it became stifling. And I had to get out. There were other men who wanted my position more than me, clawing at the chance to hold a rank with as much power as I did.
I was more than happy to step aside and let them hash it out.
Barrett called it a midlife crisis. Maybe that had a ring of truth to it.
All I knew was that there was this gnawing in my gut. This feeling like I was missing something in life. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
My phone pinged with a text from Ruby.
Where are you? Dinner is almost ready!
I found myself smiling at my screen and tapped out a response.
On my way.
Taking it easy on the snowy roads, I headed through town to Barrett’s place. His two-story farmhouse looked unchanged after all these years. The same frozen pond shrouded by pine trees. The same wraparound porch overlooking the mountain range in the distance. The same pair of muddy four-wheelers we used to ride on the weekend, tucked into the garage.
When I pulled up and parked, the front door opened. Barrett emerged with a kitchen towel draped over one shoulder, and a pair of beer bottles in hand.
