From Bully To Beloved

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I hear the tightness in her voice. “I’m not judging. I worked pretty much every job I could get before I found what I wanted to do.”

She shifts to face me. “Oh, like what?”

“Construction mostly. I enjoy working with my hands and building something from nothing. I remember those early days in Cali before Ecclestone, bouncing from couch to couch until I saved up enough money to replace my first bike. It fell apart not long after I reached the Golden Gate Bridge, and I was too broke to get another one right away. Bit by bit, I rebuilt it, buying parts with whatever money didn’t go toward food and rent. That first ride after it was finished-I’ll never forget.”

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want to do,” Sera tells me. “I just don’t have the time or money to do it.”

“What is it?” She doesn’t answer, so I nudge her. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“Art,” she finally admits. “I love art.”

“Get out of town. That’s great. I didn’t know you were that into it. I mean, I knew you were good at art in school, but you were good at everything in school.”

“Anyway, I don’t have time to do much art nowadays,” she says. “But hopefully, one day soon.”

The inheritance. She’s talking about the inheritance.

That’s why she’s going through with this marriage. I feel bad that my earlier judgment of her was so off. “Maybe you can show me some of your stuff later.”

“Absolutely not.”

Hmm. Okay, then.

“Did you eat?” I ask, peering at her from the corner of my eye. She throws me a look that betrays her hatred. Hey now. Isn’t that a way too strong a reaction just because I asked her if she had eaten yet? It must be a woman thing. She must think I’m implying she’s too fat.

“Not since lunch,” she says.

“Perfect. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“I don’t want to go to dinner,” she mutters, letting out a long breath. “I just want to go back to the apartment and lie down.”

“You have to eat,” I insist. “Also, we don’t have groceries.”

Sera makes a noise of annoyance. “Shit, that’s right. Fine. If you stop somewhere along the way, I’ll get a sandwich. I don’t want to go out anywhere.”

“You’re already out.”

“You know what I mean.”

This woman is so goddamn frustrating. Why can’t she just accept my invitation without arguing with me? She’s turning a nice offer into a back and forth. “Geez, Sera, it’s just dinner. I didn’t ask you to suck my cock, dammit. I’m not taking you back home so you can fall asleep hungry.”

At first, there’s fire in her eyes-I’m fully expecting her to tell me she’ll never suck my cock-but then she sighs softly, settling against the leather seat. “Fine. I’ll go to dinner. But wherever we go, it needs to be cheap because I’m trying to save money.”

“I invited you. It’s my treat.”

“I don’t need your charity.”

“Stop twisting my words,” I grumble. “I didn’t say you did. Jesus. Has anyone ever given you the rules?”

“The rules? No! What rules?”

“Woman. I’m trying to wave a white flag here.”

“You make it sound like we’re at war.”

“Aren’t we? Now, I’m man enough to cop the fact that I haven’t been the best at keeping the peace either. But if we’re going to survive this marriage, we need to be on the same page. I think this dinner is exactly what we need.”

She’s suspiciously quiet.

I glance over.

“You’re right,” she says. “A nice dinner to bury the hatchet sounds good.”

CAL

Afew minutes later, I drive up to my favorite biker bar: Mom’s Dirty Dogs. Out front, a row of bikes sit gleaming, even in the rainy gray light. I pull into the parking lot off to the side and park. Sera seems apprehensive as I cut the power and slip my keys out of the ignition.

“Thisis the place?” she asks.

“Yeah. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, it just seems a little…” She trails off, which is funny since I’ve never known Sera to not say what’s on her mind. Then again, she doesn’t have to say it for me to know what she’s thinking.

“Rough? Why? Because it’s called Mom’s Dirty Dogs?”

Sera shrugs. “Well, yeah.”

“It’s nicer on the inside, I promise,” I grumble. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big bad wolves inside.”

She huffs and opens the door. “I can protect myself.”

I’ve got no doubt whatsoever. Of course, she’s more than capable of handling herself when the need arises. We walk through the door and we’re met by a wave of noise. I spot Justin among a group of guys from the construction site, and they all turn to greet me with cheers and waves. That catches the attention of the bartender, who looks up and grins at me.

Thelma, the owner, and “Mom” at Mom’s Dirty Dogs, has been working at the bar for as long as I can remember. Everybody calls her Thelma la Deuce, or Sweet Thelma. She looks exactly like I remember her: burly, wearing a flannel shirt with faded jeans, and long, braided gray hair. She fixes us with a warm smile.

“Eyy! Look who it is,” she says, her voice rough. “It’s been too long, Mr. Cal.”

“Hey, Sweet Thelma, you still here?” I tease as she rushes out to hug me.

“Of course! Where else would I be, sugar? At least now I don’t have to throw you out for having a shitty fake ID.” She laughs and then notices Sera. “And who’s this?”

“This is my good friend, Sera.”

Sera shakes her head. “And by good friend, he means the woman who has to put up with him,” she bites back.

Thelma roars with laughter, taking Sera’s hand in her wrinkly ones. She gives it a gentle squeeze. “Welcome to my place. What can I get you two?”

“Two beers to my favorite booth,” I say.

“You got it. Table is yours.”

I lead Sera through the crowd of people, shaking hands and getting pats on the back along the way. Sera stays close, and I almost lose her in the group until I grab her soft little hand. She doesn’t let go. I lead her toward my favorite booth in the back. It’s the only one that’s empty, and in the middle, is a reserved card.

This table’s reserved, ya dirty dog!

Means you do NOT fucking sit down here.

Sincerely, Mom.

PS: Love you, too.

I move the sign to the side. This table is always reserved, just in case.

“Didn’t you just get back from Cali?” Sera asks, sliding into the seat across from me. “How does everyone here already know you?”

“Some of these guys are working on the dealership,” I explain. “The rest are regulars and have been for years. I’ve been coming here ever since I was seventeen. Whenever I visited the city to see Gran, I would make sure to stop by. Also, I’ve ridden cross-country with some of these guys, and they always take their bikes to my shops when they’re on the West Coast.”

Justin approaches our table, and when he sees Sera, his eyes go wide.

“Hey, Sera,” Justin says with a grin. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Hey, Justin. Looking good.”

“You are too! Coltonwasn’t lying.” He drags a seat over so he can sit on the end of the table and plops himself down just as a waitress comes to deliver our beers.

“Two ice-cold beers,” the older woman says with a friendly smile. She’s a spitting image of Thelma, and could be her twin sister, except she’s beanpole-thin and much shorter. She places the bottles in front of Sera and me before addressing Justin. “Do you need a refill, sugar?”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

He winks at her. “Sure do, thanks, Beth.” She hustles off to get his drink, and Justin shifts his attention back to Sera. “What have you been up to?”

“Waitressing mostly. What about you?”

“Hanging out with this guy,” he says, nodding in my direction. “Went to the West Coast for a while and now settling back here. When he told me about the whole arrangement between you two, I was surprised.”

She gives me a “I thought we’d keep this to ourselves” look and says, “Join the club. I don’t know how you’ve been able to be friends with him for so long without wanting to murder him.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” I say, inserting myself back into the conversation.

She glances at me with a playful smirk. “I’m aware.”

Justin laughs. “You know, he’s not so bad once you get on his good side. You should try it sometime.”

“All right, all right, ha-ha, hilarious,” I say. “Enough dunking on me. I’m the one who’s settling the tab, remember?” Justin lifts his hands up in surrender, and Sera smiles innocently before taking a sip of beer. I face Justin. “Did everything go okay when I left the construction site?”

Justin nods, waving his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, yeah, piece of cake. We’re back on track. No problems. I think your threat lit a fire under Hunt’s ass.”

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t have to in order to get shit done, but that’s how the game works.”

“Everything go okay today?” Sera asks, concern lacing her tone.

For a sec, I find it odd that she’s asking about my work. When I catch her eyes staring into mine, however, I realize she’s not talking about the building. She’s asking about my trip to the cemetery.

“Yes,” I assure her, giving her a curt nod. I appreciate that, despite our differences, she still has concern for me.

She studies me for a moment. I get the sense she thinks I’m hiding my true feelings or holding back some shit, yet her nosy nature is kept in check, and she lets it go. Justin, sensing the dip in conversation, picks things back up on a more positive note.

“What about you, Sera?” he asks. “You said you’re waitressing, but did you ever do anything with your art?”

“How do you know she’s an artist?” I ask, before taking a long swig of beer.

Sera jumps in before Justin can answer. “We used to have study hall together junior year, and since I finished my homework quickly, I would use the time to sketch,” she explains.

One of the construction guys calls to Justin and he waves to him. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your drinks. Great seeing you, Sera.”

He moves off to join another conversation while I remember an incident in art class when she was caught stealing a note from the teacher’s desk.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

She gives me a look with a slight tilt of her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve never seen you break a rule before. Well, except for that time in art class when you got caught getting into Mrs. R’s desk. Rebellion looks good on you.”

“Hey. It was a white lie to a teacher. I would hardly call that rebellious. And speaking of that art class incident, I never did get back at you for ratting me out.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, when you knocked over my sketchbook and then laughed so hard that Mrs. R caught me.” She hastily adds, “Not that I think about it a lot or anything.”

I start to chuckle once I’m able to recall the incident. “Sera, I didn’t rat you out,” I tell her. “You left your sketchbook on the edge of the desk andthe teacherknocked it over, not me.”

Her eyes go wide, and her mouth falls open. “Are youserious? All these years I thought it was you. Then why were you laughing?”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at your friend. She couldn’t think of a question to ask the teacher to keep her distracted.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. She didn’t say anything. That’s the point. The teacher asked her what she wanted, and she just made this weird high-pitched noise. It was hilarious.”

I’m still grinning, and eventually, Sera joins in. Funny that she spent all this time thinking I told on her for something as insignificant as stealing a note back from a teacher.

“Wait, can you imitate the high-pitched noise my friend made?”

“Yeeek!” She laughs, and I do it again, higher and louder this time. “Yeeeek!”

She laughs even harder and tries it too. “Yiek.”

“Nah, that was pathetic. Try again, woman. You have to go all in. You have to hold the vowel longer. Try again.”

We laugh and continue yeeking until some dirty dogs look our way. There are tears in our eyes, and she grabs a napkin to wipe her face.

God, I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh before. It’s soft and musical, instantly tugging at my heart. I want to make her laugh again. Somehow, she’s even more stunning than she was before.

“I cannot believe she made that sound,” Sera says, trying to catch her breath. “I somehow blanked all that out. She was the one who wanted me to get her note back so badly.”

“Hernote?” I ask. “Are you sure it washernote?”

Sera nods immediately, picking up her beer. “Yes, positive. Shewrote you the love note. I was supposed to pass it along before it got taken away.”

“Oh, is that so?” I arch an eyebrow, hooking my finger around the neck of my beer bottle.

“Yeah. I tried to talk her out of it. She always did have questionable taste.”

“Iama catch, thank you very much.” I wink, taking a swig of my drink.

She smiles. “Yeah, sure you are.”

“So, youdowant to be my butterfly?”

“Cal!” Sera’s eyes grow wide, her cheeks tinting an adorable shade of pink. “The note wasnotfrom me.”

I pause and chuckle. “I know, relax. I was sitting right there next to you guys, remember? I heard the whole interaction.”

“Then why did you give me shit about it all the time?”

“Because you didn’t know that I knew.”

“Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe it! Smartass.”

She smacks my arm. There’s no bite to her words, and the conversation seems light. If we keep this going, the rest of the month will be fine.

“But, I’m sorry I didn’t see more ofthatSera in school,” I rumble. “I never saw you do anything other than follow the rules.”