by E L Irwin
As we approached, he fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing his arms, then hooking his thumbs in his beltloops.
Ryler tossed our trash in the container and took my hand in his, lacing his fingers with mine. His thumb rubbed across my skin. And whether he intended it or not, the butterflies in my stomach took flight, swirling and dipping around, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. He shot me a flashing grin then turned his gaze back to Paul. I watched the steel in his eyes harden and hoped he didn’t give poor Paul a heart attack. The guy had already been through enough.
“Hi, Paul,” I said as we reached him.
“Hi, AJ,” he replied a little hesitantly, as his eyes shifted between me and Ryler. “Surprised to see me here, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess I am. Paul, this is… my friend Ryler. Ryler, this is Paul.”
“Paul,” Ryler said, extending his hand.
Paul hesitated just a fraction of a moment then shook Ryler’s hand, “Hi, Ryler.”
“AJ tells me you write for a travel magazine. Are you doing a piece on Sequim, then?”
“Yes. I am. Well, not just Sequim, but several other cities in the area. It’ll cover quite a bit of the Olympic National Park, really.”
Ryler was still studying him, and I could tell that something about Paul was raising his hackles. “How long will you be in the area?” I asked him, squeezing Ryler’s hand, trying to get him to relax.
“It’s nice here… different from Coronado. I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably stay a week or so then go check out some other areas. Oak Harbor, Port Angeles, maybe even over near Forks. Who knows? I may even swing back in.”
“What’s your last name, Paul?” Ryler asked. “I’d like to look up some of your work.”
Paul was quiet for a moment before saying in a low voice, “Ashland. It’s Paul Ashland.”
“Well, Paul Ashland, see you around. Hope you decide to write something nice about our place and this event,” Ryler said, gently tugging my hand, pulling me along with him. This time he maneuvered me to the forefront, positioning himself between me and Paul.
Tension poured off Ryler in a steady wave. “What’s the matter?” I asked him as we neared the bar.
He shrugged stiffly and said, “I don’t like him.”
“Yeah, I can see that. But why?”
“Something about him rubs me the wrong way.”
“Well,” I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I just let it drop. I highly doubted I’d see Paul any more anyway.
Shrugging, already putting it behind me, I smiled at Chief as we neared the bar. The crowd had thinned somewhat. Chief was taking a break, sitting with a group of four men, working through a mountain of nachos.
“You guys eat?” Chief asked as we approached.
“Yep, we did.” I smiled. “I can’t eat another bite.”
Chief introduced me to those he was talking with. More veterans supporting veterans. We chatted for a couple minutes. Just friendly, curious talk. One of them had known my dad.
As we visited, I noted Ryler saying something to Chief. Chief looked briefly in my direction then nodded to Ryler. It wouldn’t have caught my notice if they hadn’t made such an attempt to be so subtle about it. Now I was wondering. My eyes flitted back and forth between the two, trying to solve this mystery.
Ryler caught my look, and something flashed in his blue-gray eyes. And then he did something that I wasn’t expecting — expecting or prepared for. Right in front of those men I’d been talking with, in front of Chief, in front of the entire bar crowd, he pulled me against him, my back to his front. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled the side of my neck. I sucked in a breath as his fingers fanned out across my stomach.
“You about ready to go?”
Shivering from the tone of his voice, the heat from his touch, I agreed.
“We’ll see you all later,” he told those gathered there.
Chief just grinned at us and offered a small salute as we left.
Ryler lifted me up into the Bronco then closed the door. As he climbed in, he said, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He looked me over then grinned. “You trust me?”
I wanted to just say, Yeah. But instead I said, “Trust you with what? And why?”
Ryler chuckled at my hesitancy. I waited for him to explain, but he remained silent while we drove back to Jake’s. As we pulled into the long drive he said, “You’ll see. Take a moment if you need to freshen up. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. Don’t forget your sunglasses,” he said as he dropped me off at the house. Ryler waited until I was inside, then turned the Bronco around and headed up the drive to his place.
Ryler wasn’t gone long; he was back well within that fifteen minutes he’d indicated. I’d had enough time to use the bathroom, spritz on some perfume, and brush my teeth. As I came back down the stairs, I heard a loud rumble. It vibrated through the house and brought me to the front door. Stepping outside, I saw Ryler perched casually on the seat of a large black motorcycle. There wasn’t much in the way of chrome on it. Most of the finish was in a matte black shade.
I watched in surprised consternation as he put the kickstand down and swung off. And, if I was being honest, he looked pretty dang hot while doing it. In fact, my temperature was climbing rapidly. Ryler shut the bike off, removed his helmet and sunglasses, and placed them on the seat before walking up to meet me. “You wanna be a real biker chick? Put those boots and that cut to good use?”
“You never told me you had a bike. Why weren’t you riding today?”
“Because I was with you.”
“You could have gone. You didn’t have to stay with me.”
“I know that. Besides, I can go now. I just want you to go with me.”
“On that? With you?”
“On this. Behind me. You’re not scared, are you?”
I blew out a breath. “Maybe just a little.”
“There’s nothing to it. You just need to hang on to me. I’ll do the rest.”
“Have you ever wrecked?”
“Yeah. I have. But I won’t now. Not with you on board.”
My mouth dried out as he admitted that. “How do you know?”
Ryler stalked closer. “You’ll be safe with me, AJ. I promise.”
My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I agreed. “All right. Just don’t kill me, Ryler. I have edits due, a book coming out, and Harley would be upset, and Josephine, too, and—”
Ryler kissed me, cutting off my ramble. This wasn’t a passionate kiss, but more a calming, claiming sort of kiss. I tasted the promise, the assurance on his tongue, felt them in his touch as his hands coursed up my arms, traveled over my shoulders to cup my face, positioning it just so. He held me steady. He would keep me safe. As that realization struck me, I lunged for him, deepening the kiss, trying to set fire to it.
Ryler growled low in his throat, the vibration doing all sorts of things to me. Then he pulled back. “If we don’t stop now,” he growled again, “I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”
Those words nearly made my knees give out. I needed a steadying breath to clear my head so I could think, and walk. Ryler made sure the door was locked then led me down to the bike, which looked bigger, more menacing the closer I got to it. From a side bag he pulled out another helmet and, turning to me, placed it on my head, adjusting the straps to fit properly. Then he put his back on.
“We’re all set,” Ryler motioned toward the bike. “I’m going to get on first, get it started, then you’ll climb on behind me. All you have to do is hold tight to me. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Blowing out a quick breath, I said, “All right. Let’s do this.”
Ryler swung his leg over and settled into the seat. That simple action caused a rush of heat to flood my body. He righted the bike and then started it. The rumble was loud, but not overly so. I wasn’t trying to cover my ears at least. One hand on the
bike, keeping it upright, he motioned for me to climb on. Did I mention that I’m short, like I’m not known for my height? Just when I thought I’d have to jump for it, Ryler indicated a metal peg sticking out from the side. He offered a hand to me as I stepped on it, then I swung my leg over.
It felt a bit like being on a horse that vibrated, and I wondered if I’d be sore after this ride, as I have been after the other. Ryler waited for me to wrap my arms around him before taking off. And, if I was honest, it didn’t take much incentive to get me to do it. Even through the leather vest, he was warm. So warm. I held tightly to him and told myself this was basically a long, extended, high-velocity piggyback ride. Nothing to it.
I’d like to say that I was entirely terrified, but that would be a lie. Maybe at first, but once we really got going, once I could feel the wind in my face and that sheer sense of flying and freedom came rushing in, I was nothing but exhilarated.
Holding onto Ryler might have helped with this feeling, but still. He and the machine were one, and I was one with them. We moved with the road, effortless, powerful. We were thunder. Wild, rolling thunder.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Burnt Amber
Ryler lay awake long into the night. The windows were open, letting in the cool evening air. A fire still crackled in the hearth. On one side of him lay Shiv, the hound snoring softly. On the other, on the nightstand, stood an untouched glass of amber liquid. Condensation dripped down the sides from the slowly melting ice cubes inside it. The flames danced through the grate, catching the glass, making the liquid in the cup seem to burn. And Ryler thought of AJ. Thought of their ride today. Thought about the way she’d felt, her arms and legs wrapped around him.
She’d trusted him. Had faith in him. Ryler’d seen her hesitation, that uncertainty about the bike ride. But still, she’d allowed him to strap that helmet on; still she’d climbed on that bike behind him. She’d molded her body to his. It was hard to put into thoughts, much less words, what that had done to him. How much her belief in him had affected him.
Was this love? This feeling, this emotion? He didn’t know. Once he’d thought he’d loved Lorna. And maybe he had; certainly, he’d felt more for her than she’d felt for him. But this seemed different. Deeper. Stronger. This made him feel whole. As if those pieces missing from himself, those pieces that left him feeling like half a man were repaired and made new. Unseen, but no longer absent. So, was this love? Maybe. Maybe it was. Ryler reached for the glass and downed it in one swallow, confident in one thing. He didn’t want to give this up.
I was falling in love with him. With Ryler. I hadn’t meant to. It just kind of happened. Things were complicated. He was complicated. But then, who wasn’t really? Everyone carried around some kind of baggage. Things from the past that tend to snag and snarl the present or future. I sensed that underneath that gruff exterior, there lay a deep well of emotion. So deep that I wanted to drown in it. Drown in him. The bike ride today had awoken something inside me. Being with him, on that machine, our bodies in tandem, moving together as we followed the path in front of us — it had sparked something. Ignited a flame that I didn’t know how to extinguish, even if I wanted to. No matter the curve or the bend in the road, that flame told me we’d go through it all together. And somehow, that road began to look an awful lot like the future. Unknown. New possibilities around every bend. And yet, I wanted to take them all with Ryler. Side by side, together, I wanted to walk into our future.
But what did he want? Would he want that? Want me? A future? That I didn’t know but wanted to find out.
Our evening ended with a slow and tortuous kiss at my front door. He’d insisted that he should definitely not come in, and I appreciated the fact that he’d been aware of his limits. That he’d taken my limits into account and hadn’t been inclined to just roll with it and see what happened. Even that had me longing for that future with him.
I’d lit all my favorite candles, poured my favorite bath salts, and soaked in all the warmth, all the heat that had been missing since he’d left. I wanted Ryler. Wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone before. But even more, I wanted this time to be right, to be true and forever. To be real. So, I’d wait, hold these feelings close to my chest, let him work through what he needed to. And then, hopefully, we’d get that opportunity.
The bathwater was tepid by the time I climbed out. Taking my time toweling off, I attempted to clear my mind, think about something other than Ryler for the time being. So, I reached for my favorite amber-scented body lotion, remembering what an interesting fragrance it had. As did musk, another favorite scent of mine. Just like that, my mind jumped the tracks and began to consider that my favorite scents were derived from fossilized trees and male musk deer. Maybe that made me an odd person for loving those smells so much, but I reminded myself as I blew out the candles that many people love those fragrances, so I was in good company, or at least just company.
After slipping on a pair of knit pajama bottoms and a tank top, I brewed some of my favorite chamomile tea, then decided to share my biker-chick experience on my blog. Amber had been strangely silent these last couple of weeks. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. I’d talked with Detective Whitaker, and he’d said the police were no closer to identifying who Amber was or who the killer was if they were different.
When I logged on, I checked the comments. Nothing from Amber. Maybe she had gone away. Maybe I’d burned her enough that she decided to back off and leave me alone. Of course, I felt that also put us back to square one in finding Mrs. Carson’s murderer. After posting about the ride, I went to bed. Surprisingly, sleep claimed me swiftly.
Over coffee the next morning before sunrise, wrapped in a robe of pale lilac, I began work on a new story. One that had begun floating around in my head over the last several months. Rebel Ranger, I was calling it. Your guess is as good as mine as to what my inspiration might have been. I worked on that for several hours, just fleshing out my characters and exploring the plot, Building the storyline in my mind. Once I figured that I had a pretty solid handle on it, I took a break and checked the blog to see how my readers liked my motorcycle experience. I found a comment from Amber.
“Did you get my package?” she’d written. Just that. Just her question about the package.
Package? I thought. What package?
I rose from my desk and headed downstairs to the small mountain of fan mail that I still needed to sort through and address. There were a total of six packages, ranging from small boxes to large envelopes in size. I took each one of them and checked the shipping and return label, looking for anything, any clue that one of these might be from Amber. Not seeing anything to indicate one way or another, I picked up the first one and opened it. It was a scarf from a kind and generous fan. She’d seen it and thought I’d like the colors, so had bought it for me. It wasn’t from Amber. I moved to the next and the next, opening each package. Nothing from Amber. Nothing out of the ordinary.
My phone rang then, making me jump. I hadn’t realized how fast my heart had been pounding. With shaking hands, I answered it. “Don’t open anything until I get there!” Ryler fairly shouted at me.
“There isn’t anything from her,” I said quietly, trying to calm the tremors. “I’ve already opened them.”
“Just sit still. I’ll be there in a couple moments.”
“All right,” I said as I sunk into the chair next to me. I figured he must have been monitoring my blog page again and had seen Amber’s comment.
I didn’t remember hanging up the phone. I didn’t remember anything between talking with Ryler and then seeing him kneeling in front of me. He must have used his key.
He pulled me into his arms and just held me. Held me until the shaking subsided. He pressed his lips against my temple, lingering there for a moment, then pulled back. “Where are the packages?”
I nodded behind him, showing him the ones that I’d opened.
“These are all of them?” he asked
, looking through everything thoroughly with a careful eye.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Yeah, I think so. No, wait! I forgot. There is one more. When Harley was here, one had been left on the front step. I… I’d forgotten about it.”
“Where is it, AJ?”
“In the closet by the front door. I-I forgot I put it there. I’d meant to deal with it after Harley left, but just hadn’t remembered to do so.”
“Stay here,” he said as he turned away.
I heard him open the closet door then heard the sounds of the box being opened. Then…
“Son of a…”
“What?” I said, rising to my feet, moving fearfully toward him. “What is it?”
“Stay there, AJ. Do NOT come over here. Just. Stay. There.”
“Ryler, what is it?” Terror gripped me now, making it hard to breathe. “Is it from her? Is it from Amber?”
“Just stay there. Dang it! Sick, son of a…” Ryler walked back to me. “AJ, listen to me. I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go upstairs and make sure your cat is there, and that she is all right. Okay? Can you do that?”
“What… what does that mean? What are you saying?”
“Just do what I asked please. Go. I need to take care of a few things.”
I turned swiftly and raced up the stairs, calling for Josephine. Panic was making me uncoordinated, and I stumbled on the landing, nearly falling into the wall. After righting myself, I made my way into my bedroom. My eyes roved all around, searching for her. I found Josephine curled up under my desk and wept with relief that she was okay. I picked her up carefully and held her as the tears poured down. After several minutes, she began struggling, wanting down. Sniffing, wiping at my cheeks, I let her go and put her back where I’d found her.
I went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Just needing a couple of minutes to calm down, I ran a comb through my hair and brushed my teeth as well before heading back downstairs. Ryler was on the phone when I reached the big living room. He stood near the stairs, watching for me. As I reached the bottom step, my eyes went to the front hall where that closet was, and, I assumed, the box.