Chapter 2
Chapter two
Lena
My cheeks continued to burn for the rest of my shift. I couldn’t stop thinking about Reuben “Ironside” Calhoun, his voice in my ear and the warm strength of his hand enveloping mine. My stomach clenched with equal parts excitement and anticipation. And no small amount of dread, too.
Dating would inevitably lead to sex. Which was a complicated topic.
I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to romance.
Growing up as the tallest girl in my class, boys viewed me as a target for their mockery instead of a potential date for prom.
While other girls were having their first kiss, I had my nose buried in botany books, learning everything I could about the inner workings of plants.
Desperately trying to distract myself from the fact that every girl around me received flowers for Valentine’s Day. Except me.
When I went to college, I was determined to change that.
But dating as a tall, curvy woman was a struggle.
More often than not, I found myself ghosted, sitting alone at the table, waiting for a man who never showed.
I wanted to experience what it was like to fall head over heels in love, but landing a second date was like pulling teeth.
Then I was diagnosed with vaginismus, and my threadbare love life fell to pieces.
I sighed as I closed up the shop for the day.
As much as I would have loved to lose my virginity before now, it simply hadn’t happened.
I couldn’t even insert a tampon without pain.
And when I explained that to the few men I’d managed to date, it never went over well.
I could practically see the wheels turning in their mind as they planned an exit strategy.
It didn’t matter how good my hand jobs were, or how skilled I was at giving head. My inability to have penetrative sex killed the mood and obliterated my chance of having a long term relationship.
Eventually, my desire and enthusiasm to brave the dating world waned until it dwindled to nothing. I was tired, burned out, and discouraged. I couldn’t bear to get my hopes up anymore, over and over, just to have my heart broken with yet another rejection.
So, I threw myself into starting The Bellflower. Ever since I was a little girl, I had longed to open a flower shop of my own. Now here I was, living my dream.
After a long week of working on my feet, I wanted nothing more than to fill my belly with mouthwatering comfort food.
And I was dying to gossip with my best friend about the sexy older biker who had flirted with me today.
When I stepped into Pepper’s Pizzeria, the delicious scent of basil and yeast greeted me.
I loved this cozy hole-in-the-wall place.
Tables and chairs were tucked into little alcoves throughout the room, with checkerboard tablecloths, and warm red ambient lighting.
It felt like I’d been transported from my small town in the mountain countryside of Colorado and straight into the streets of Italy.
My best friend, Silvia D’Angelo—known by everyone as Pepper—had started this restaurant with her big family when she was only eighteen. Every item on the menu came from traditional Italian recipes in her family, passed down for generations.
A large pass-through window provided a peek into the inner workings of the kitchen.
Along one wall were old-fashioned woodfire ovens.
Hanging from the ceiling were bundles of herbs, braided garlic, and strings of dried hot peppers.
Trays were stacked on a cart in one corner, with neat rows of puffy bread dough left to rise.
Pepper spotted me and waved as she stirred a giant pot of something—soup or sauce, I couldn’t tell.
“Lena! Have a seat, I’m pulling a pizza out of the oven in two minutes, piping hot.”
After selecting a table near the warmth of the kitchen, I settled in and waited for Pepper to join me.
What kind of flowers would you recommend if I wanted to ask a lady out to dinner?
I smiled to myself at the memory of Ironside’s words. Even though I was surrounded by flowers all day, the gesture still made me feel giddy and lightheaded with excitement. No man had ever given me flowers before.
A clatter echoed from the kitchen and I glanced up.
“Don’t you dare touch that pizza, Luca,” Pepper bellowed.
She brandished her ladle at a man about her age.
He was probably one of her many cousins, since they shared the same thick black hair, olive-toned skin, and dark eyes.
He swiped a slice of pizza, juggling it from one hand to the other when it burned his fingertips.
Then he ducked out of the kitchen, laughing.
“Asshole!” Pepper barked, taking a swing at him with her ladle.
As Luca hurried past my table, I spotted a familiar patch stitched into his vest, just like the one Ironside wore. The Reckless Order MC. They belonged to the same club.
A moment later, Pepper plopped into the chair across from me. She set a pan of pizza on the table, with one slice missing.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “Luca is the worst. In my opinion, it’s those damn bikers he hangs out with. They’re a bad influence.”
I said nothing as I deposited a slice of pizza on my plate, waiting for the steaming cheese to cool off. Pepper piled three slices on her plate, heaping hot pepper flakes and parmesan cheese on top. Then she furiously sawed at a bite and pointed at me with the tip of her knife.
“Don’t,” she said.
I blinked in surprise and confusion.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t even think about it. Do not date Luca. You deserve better than that swine.”
I released a breath of relief and shook my head.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t thinking about him.”
Pepper narrowed her eyes with a skeptical hum.
“Not him. Just someone else. Is that it?”
I sighed, fiddling with my fork.
“A man came into the shop today.”
Pepper’s eyebrows shot up.
“Was he single? Was he hot?”
I sputtered, suddenly feeling that tattletale heat rising into my cheeks again.
I couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Ironside’s sleeves rolled up, displaying tattooed forearms dark with ink.
His salt and pepper hair and beard suggested he was considerably older than me, but that only added to his silver fox allure.
And his icy blue eyes had been so unwavering, so steady when he looked at me.
Maybe my imagination was getting too crazy, but I did like the idea of surrendering myself to the hands of an older, experienced, dominant man.
“Yes, he was single, and yes, he was hot,” I replied.
Pepper grinned, her eyes gleaming.
“Go on. Spill all the juicy details.”
I shrugged, idly poking at my pizza with my fork.
“Pepper, it doesn’t matter. I have to say no.”
She frowned.
“Why? It’s obvious you like him. Your face is red as a tomato.”
“Damn it.”
I buried my face in my napkin. I hated how easily I blushed, and how obvious it was to everyone else.
The curse of being a redhead with a milky pale complexion was the fact that I flushed red all the time, whether I was climbing a single flight of stairs or completely tongue-tied around a sexy biker.
Pepper patted my shoulder.
“You haven’t been on a date in years, Lena. It’s time you brushed off the cobwebs and got back out there.”
After a minute or two to recover, I straightened up and inhaled a steadying breath.
“But I can’t—you know—be intimate. So it would be pointless. And if you had seen the way this guy was looking at me, Pepper, you would know it was very obvious sex was on his mind.”
A shiver rippled down my spine when I thought about his breath against my ear and the whiskey-rough grit in his voice when he spoke.
Pepper shook her head. She’d been there for me through thick and thin, ever since we met in our first year of high school. She was the boisterous extrovert who adopted my quiet, awkward introverted self and solemnly swore that we were best friends for life now.
Years later, our friendship was still solid as a rock.
She knew all about my struggles since my diagnosis. Going through physical therapy for my pelvic floor. Trying—and failing—to loosen up with dilators.
But she was determined to make sure I didn’t give up. I had to keep trying.
“Lena, my darling little porcini,” she said with all the patience in the world. “You have wanted to fall madly in love for as long as I’ve known you. What if this man is The One?”
I wrinkled my nose.
“I still don’t know how I feel about you calling me porcini.”
She waved off my protest.
“Would you like it better if I called you my darling little tomato to match that endearing shade of red in your cheeks?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Never mind. I guess I’ll be your little mushroom forever.”
Pepper beamed and slid her chair closer to mine until we were shoulder to shoulder, side by side.
“That’s what I thought. Now, tell me more about your man.”
“He’s not my man.”
“Not yet,” she replied. “What’s his name? What does he do for a living? Is he a doctor? A lawyer? A rich billionaire from the big city?”
I snorted with amusement, plucking a piece of crispy pepperoni off my pizza. I popped it in my mouth.
“His name is Reuben, but he goes by Ironside. And he…actually, I don’t know what he does for a living. But he’s a biker, like your cousin, Luca. They’re in the same club.”
Pepper hummed.
“Interesting. I never would have guessed you might get starry-eyed over a biker. Especially someone from The Reckless Order. A lot of them are on the wrong side of the law, and proud of it. That’s not exactly your type.”
“So, you’re saying I should keep my distance and stay away.”
She shook her head.
“Absolutely not. If I did that, it would make me a hypocrite since I slept with one of them.”
My eyes widened.
“You did what?”
Pepper shushed me.
“Don’t broadcast it to the whole damn town, Lena. For God’s sake. It was Saturday night, I had a few drinks, and he was just…delicious. Tattoos, muscles, with a dash of dark and broody vibes. So, we hooked up, but we went our separate ways in the morning.”
I frowned, trying to calculate when this would have happened.
“You never told me that.”
“Well,” Pepper hedged. “At the time, you were coming to terms with your diagnosis and processing everything. I didn’t want to brag that I’d banged a biker when you were…”
She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish. I got the picture.
“Pepper, please don’t feel like you have to hide things from me just because of my diagnosis.”
Her eyes softened with sympathy.
“I know. And for the record, I hated keeping it from you. Listen, if you really like Ironside, you should go out with him. Be careful, of course, but have fun. It’s about time you stopped being such a good girl for once and unleashed your wild side a bit more.”
I scoffed with amusement and took a bite of my pizza.
“I don’t have a wild side.”
Pepper cast a coy glance at me.
“The right guy might coax it out of you.”
I went quiet and my smile faltered. Did the right guy even exist? Was I ready to open myself up to Ironside and risk rejection again? What if I told him everything about my diagnosis and my struggle to have sex and he turned me down just like every other guy I’d dated before?
“Hey,” Pepper said softly, pulling me from my thoughts.
I glanced up to meet her gaze.
“You deserve someone who loves and cares for you, Lena,” she said. “Diagnosis and all.”
I leaned my shoulder against hers, grateful for her encouragement and support.
“If he dumps me, will you be waiting on standby to cheer me up with pizza?”
“And dessert, my little porcini,” Pepper replied. “Lots and lots of dessert.”