replied. He hoped that he had covered the slip well enough, but he could tell that he hadn't and felt self-conscious.
“Well, since you did battle the elements and made it all the way here, what can I get for you, big man?” Steve asked.
“I'll just take…” Bulldog said as he looked up at the menu board as if he was reading it, “Hell, who am I kidding? I'll just take the same thing I take every morning. Grande double brew French roast, black, with a shot of espresso, and a croissant. Also, this morning I think I will treat myself a little and have one of those blueberry scones that look so good in the case there.” Steve smiled and rung up the order before cancelling it out with his mangers ID.
“I tell you what. Why don't you head over there and have a seat I will bring it over in just a few minutes,” Steve said. Bulldog was shocked that he had not been asked to pay but he wasn't going to complain about the guy's generosity. He walked over to the table that he always sat at, the one in the corner between the fireplace and the big picture window that looked out to where his bike was parked and took a seat. He normally stared out the window and thought about what life outside of the town and outside of the club would be like. This day though he found himself looking at the cute bear behind the counter and thinking more about the fact that he was one of the best looking guys and had the best personality of anyone he had met in a long time.
After several minutes Steve came over with a tray that had two cups of coffee and two small plates on it. One of the plates had the scone and not one but two croissants on it along with butter and honey, the other plate had a pecan pie filled donut, a specialty of the house and another croissant. He sat the tray down on the table, “mid if I join you, I haven't had breakfast yet myself.”
“Not at all, please, I would enjoy the company.” Bulldog said.
“Would you like me to turn the fire on? Might help you to dry out a little faster.” Steve asked.
“Nah, that's okay. No point. I’m just sure to get wet again today. Hell, from the looks of things, more than once today,” Bulldog replied.
“True. I know it's a pain in the ass for guys like you, but I love the rain. I find it to be refreshing, thought provoking, even romantic,” Steve said. Bulldog looked over at him over the edge of his coffee cup. Steve started to blush as he realized the way that must have come out.
“I love the rain. Where I'm originally from in Montana it either rains or snows a little almost every afternoon depending on the season. Love the rain, but hate being on the bike in it. Thinking one of these days I may break down and buy a truck for bad weather, but then there would be a lot of flak from the guys over that,” Bulldog stated.
“Yeah, that whole biker thing does tend to lend itself to being on the bike I suppose,” Steve said as he spread some butter on his croissant.
“Yep…”
“So have you always been a biker? I mean, is it a family thing like it is with some guys, born into it?” Steve asked.
“No not at all, I was actually born the son of a university professor. He worked at the college in the Montana town that I grew up in.” Bulldog said.
“That explains that.” Steve said.
“In what way?”
“Your mannerisms, your method of speaking, the words that you use. They indicate that you are very educated and come from the cultured background. Not necessarily what you would expect from a typical biker, at least not from what I know of your lifestyle, which I do admit is limited,” Steve said.
“Yeah, he was a professor of archeology. Very refined man. He pushed me from an early age to do well in school and expand my mind. The problem was that I expanded it a little too much. Led to some serious disagreements between us, formed a wedge as I got older. That wedge is what eventually led to my
“Well, since you did battle the elements and made it all the way here, what can I get for you, big man?” Steve asked.
“I'll just take…” Bulldog said as he looked up at the menu board as if he was reading it, “Hell, who am I kidding? I'll just take the same thing I take every morning. Grande double brew French roast, black, with a shot of espresso, and a croissant. Also, this morning I think I will treat myself a little and have one of those blueberry scones that look so good in the case there.” Steve smiled and rung up the order before cancelling it out with his mangers ID.
“I tell you what. Why don't you head over there and have a seat I will bring it over in just a few minutes,” Steve said. Bulldog was shocked that he had not been asked to pay but he wasn't going to complain about the guy's generosity. He walked over to the table that he always sat at, the one in the corner between the fireplace and the big picture window that looked out to where his bike was parked and took a seat. He normally stared out the window and thought about what life outside of the town and outside of the club would be like. This day though he found himself looking at the cute bear behind the counter and thinking more about the fact that he was one of the best looking guys and had the best personality of anyone he had met in a long time.
After several minutes Steve came over with a tray that had two cups of coffee and two small plates on it. One of the plates had the scone and not one but two croissants on it along with butter and honey, the other plate had a pecan pie filled donut, a specialty of the house and another croissant. He sat the tray down on the table, “mid if I join you, I haven't had breakfast yet myself.”
“Not at all, please, I would enjoy the company.” Bulldog said.
“Would you like me to turn the fire on? Might help you to dry out a little faster.” Steve asked.
“Nah, that's okay. No point. I’m just sure to get wet again today. Hell, from the looks of things, more than once today,” Bulldog replied.
“True. I know it's a pain in the ass for guys like you, but I love the rain. I find it to be refreshing, thought provoking, even romantic,” Steve said. Bulldog looked over at him over the edge of his coffee cup. Steve started to blush as he realized the way that must have come out.
“I love the rain. Where I'm originally from in Montana it either rains or snows a little almost every afternoon depending on the season. Love the rain, but hate being on the bike in it. Thinking one of these days I may break down and buy a truck for bad weather, but then there would be a lot of flak from the guys over that,” Bulldog stated.
“Yeah, that whole biker thing does tend to lend itself to being on the bike I suppose,” Steve said as he spread some butter on his croissant.
“Yep…”
“So have you always been a biker? I mean, is it a family thing like it is with some guys, born into it?” Steve asked.
“No not at all, I was actually born the son of a university professor. He worked at the college in the Montana town that I grew up in.” Bulldog said.
“That explains that.” Steve said.
“In what way?”
“Your mannerisms, your method of speaking, the words that you use. They indicate that you are very educated and come from the cultured background. Not necessarily what you would expect from a typical biker, at least not from what I know of your lifestyle, which I do admit is limited,” Steve said.
“Yeah, he was a professor of archeology. Very refined man. He pushed me from an early age to do well in school and expand my mind. The problem was that I expanded it a little too much. Led to some serious disagreements between us, formed a wedge as I got older. That wedge is what eventually led to my
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