by Karen Lynch
The man smiled. “Come see for yourself.”
We walked to the back of the truck, and he opened the doors. A laugh burst from me when I saw what was inside.
“A motorcycle? He got me a motorcycle?” What on earth was Nikolas thinking? I had no idea how to ride one of these.
The man smiled. “Not a motorcycle. It’s a scooter.”
I walked to the side to get a better look at the silver scooter. Now that I saw it from a different angle, I felt silly for thinking it was a motorcycle.
“What kind is it?” I asked him as he swung up into the truck and started unhooking the cables keeping the scooter in place.
“It’s a Vespa GTV 300. Real nice one. Vintage look.”
“I’ve heard of Vespa, but I’m afraid I don’t know anything about scooters,” I said, wondering what I was going to do with it.
He rolled the scooter to the lift and lowered himself and the bike to the ground. Then he rolled it up to the steps and put down the stand.
“Hold on. I think there’s a helmet, too.” He ran back to the truck and returned, carrying a silver helmet and a larger silver dome-shaped object. He handed the helmet to me.
“This here is a topbox,” he explained, holding up the other object. “You can mount it on the back of the scooter and use it for carrying stuff. It’s handy if you don’t have a car and need to get groceries.”
“That’s perfect.” My chest warmed at Nikolas’s thoughtfulness.
I heard a car approaching, and I looked up as a blue Mustang came around the truck and pulled in beside the Vespa. Roland got out and joined us.
“A Vespa.” He walked around the scooter, looking it over. “This is a great scooter, but I thought you were thinking about buying a car.”
“I am. This is a gift from Nikolas.”
“Ah.” He nodded, smiling. “Yeah, this is exactly the kind of gift he’d give you.”
The delivery man stepped forward. “The keys, manuals, and paperwork are all in the storage compartment beneath the seat.” He pressed a button under the ignition, lifted the seat, and pulled out a set of keys, explaining the difference between the blue one and the brown one. I was still a bit overwhelmed by the Vespa, so I wasn’t sure how much I’d remember after he left.
“Thank you.” I reached into my bag for my wallet. I wasn’t sure how much you tipped someone delivering a scooter, but I had to give him something.
He put up a hand. “That’s already been taken care of by Mr. Danshov. Enjoy your Vespa.”
I gave Roland a helpless look as the truck pulled away. “I don’t suppose you know how to drive one of these things.”
He chuckled. “I’ve ridden motorcycles, so I’m sure I can figure it out.”
I handed him the keys, and he demonstrated how to start the scooter.
“It’s pretty easy to operate. You turn the key, then lightly hold the brake and press the starter.”
The Vespa purred to life. Roland put up the stand, and I pretended not to notice how his jeans stretched tight across his backside when he straddled the seat.
“Here, let me show you how easy this is to handle.” Waving off the helmet I offered him, he pulled out into the street and drove to the end of the row of buildings and back again. I had to admit he made it look easy, even though the scooter didn’t exactly suit him. Now that I knew him, I definitely saw him more as a classic muscle car kind of person.
He stopped beside me. “You want to give it a go?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t afraid of motorcycles, but I’d never driven one. The scooter was smaller and less powerful, but it was still a motorbike.
He hopped off the scooter and waved me over. I donned the helmet and took his place on the seat, bracing my feet on the pavement. The Vespa teetered a little because I wasn’t used to the weight, but I kept it upright. The scooter was small enough to fit me, and I felt comfortable reaching the handlebars. Nikolas had chosen well. Now, I just needed to learn to drive it.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
Roland showed me the gas and brakes and explained the basic operation. Once I thought I had it, I turned the throttle and the scooter shot forward a few feet, startling me.
“Start slow,” he said coming up to me. “Ease off the brake and very lightly give it some gas.”
“I’m afraid I’ll tip over.”
“Don’t worry about that. You can keep your feet down and go really slow to get a feel for it.”
“Okay.” I did as he said, and I managed to go ten feet without falling over. I pulled up one foot, but when I lifted the other, the scooter tipped and I panicked and hit the brake. How had he made this look so easy?
Roland caught up to me and put his hand on the front of the scooter to steady it. “You’re doing great.”
I made a face. “I’m terrible; admit it.”
“No, you’re just nervous. You’ll be a pro at this in no time.” He pursed his lips for a few seconds and moved behind me. “Scoot up a little.”
I stared at him over my shoulder. “Why?”
“I’m going to sit behind you and be your training wheels. You focus on driving, and I’ll catch the scooter if it starts to tip.”
“You’re too big. It won’t fit both of us.” My stomach did a little flip, and I didn’t know if it was the thought of being so close to a werewolf or the thought of being close to this one in particular.
He shook his head. “It might be a tight squeeze, but we’ll fit. And it’s not like we’re going that far.”
“But…”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of being that close to me, are you?”
“No,” I blurted, feeling my ears grow warm. “I mean, not really.”
His smile faded. “Is it because of what I am? You don’t ever have to be afraid around me.”
“It’s not that,” I rushed to reassure him. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Good. Then let’s do this.”
“Fine.”
I shifted forward a few inches, and he mounted the scooter behind me. There was no air between us, and the feel of his warm body pressed snugly against my back made my stomach do weird things. When he placed his hands on my hips, my mouth went dry and I forgot what I was supposed to do. He’d worried I was afraid of him, but it definitely wasn’t fear I was feeling now.
“You comfortable?”
“Yes,” I managed to say, praying he passed off my racing heart as nervousness.
He gave my hips a light squeeze of encouragement. “Okay, go slow to the end of the street. You can put your feet up and pretend I’m not here.”
Yeah, like that’s going to happen. I nodded and gave the scooter some gas. When nothing bad happened, I picked up the speed a little, and we reached the end of the street without incident. I turned the scooter carefully and started back toward my building.
“See? Nothing to it,” Roland said. “You want to keep going down as far as the marina?”
“Okay.” I was having fun now that I was comfortable with the Vespa. It really was easy to operate once you got the hang of it. I couldn’t wait to call Nikolas and tell him how much I loved his gift.
I turned at the marina and headed back home. When I pulled in beside the Mustang and shut the scooter off, Roland waited for me to put down the stand before he climbed off.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked.
I got off the scooter, removing my helmet. “I love it.”
“I knew you would. They’re a lot of fun.”
I smoothed down my hair. “Your timing was perfect. Thanks so much for teaching me to drive it.”
“Anytime.”
“Were you coming here or just driving by?”
“I was coming to see you.” He went to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. Reaching in, he picked up a covered casserole dish and turned to me.
“My mother made it for you. She would have come herself, but she’s been busy with all the visitors and the gathering.�
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“Your mother made me a casserole?” I asked, touched. “She didn’t have to do that.”
“She loves to cook, and I think she misses making food for Sara and Nate.” He held the dish out to me. “I hope you like shepherd’s pie.”
I took the casserole, which was still warm. “I haven’t had that in a long time. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“Oh, and the best part.” He went back to the car and returned with a wrapped pie plate. “My grandmother’s been baking nonstop since she got here. Not that you’ll hear any complaints from me. When she heard I was bringing you a casserole, she sent along one of her apple pies.” He grinned. “It’s your lucky day. Grandma’s pies are the best.”
The kindness from these people whom I hadn’t even met made tears prick my eyes.
“That’s so sweet of her. Apple is my favorite.”
“Mine, too.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “She always puts away a few for me.”
“A few?” I couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He didn’t look like someone who ate a lot of desserts.
His smile grew. “We have big appetites, and we burn off calories fast.”
I looked down at the large casserole in my hands. Without stopping to think about it, I said, “I can’t possibly eat all this food. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Roland looked as surprised by my invitation as I was. But as soon as I said the words, I realized I really did want him to stay. And it wasn’t because I was lonely or I was feeling grateful to him for teaching me to ride the Vespa. I liked talking to him.
He shook his head regretfully. “I wish I could, but I’m meeting my cousin Paul. We’re starting that Chevelle job I told you about.”
“I understand.” I lifted the heavy dish, hiding my disappointment. “Why don’t you take some with you? I’d hate to see any of this food go to waste.”
His blue eyes sparkled. “I never could turn down a good meal.”
I turned to the stairs. “Great. Give me a minute, and I’ll put some in containers for you.”
He followed me up to the apartment and held both dishes while I unlocked the door. Setting them down on the kitchen table, he said, “While you’re cutting out some food, I can mount that cargo box on the scooter if you’d like.”
“That’d be great. I’m not sure what tools I have here, though.”
“No problem. I have some in my trunk,” he said as he left the kitchen. “Should only take a few minutes.”
I walked outside, five minutes later, carrying two containers of casserole and apple pie, and I found Roland finishing up with the scooter. The storage compartment would be great for groceries and other small items. And the scooter was perfect for going to work and getting around town, at least until the winter.
Roland straightened and looked at me. “What do you think?”
“I love it. Thanks for all your help today.”
He eyed the containers in my hands. “If that top one is full of apple pie, that’s thanks enough.”
I laughed and handed the food to him. “You earned it.”
“If you’re going to use food as a payment, you can consider me your personal handyman.” He put the containers on the passenger seat. “And if you tell me you can bake, I might have to marry you.”
I choked out a laugh. “Sorry. I can barely cook yet. The stove is not my friend.”
He wore a smile when he turned back to me. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure that out, too. Now, where do you want to put the Vespa?”
“I don’t have a garage.” I frowned at the scooter. “You don’t think it’s safe here?”
“We get a lot of tourists in town in the summer. A couple of strong guys could easily put that in the back of a truck.” He thought for a moment then walked around to the back of the building. “You can keep it in the storage area when you’re not using it.”
“It won’t fit through the door.”
“But it will.” He pointed at the heavy steel door. “It’s actually a double door they used for deliveries back when this was a store. You just have to unbolt the top and bottom of the second one, and it’ll open.”
“How did I miss that? I’ll be right back.” I ran up to the apartment and used the stairs to get down to the first floor. It took me a minute to wriggle open the bolts that had become stuck from disuse. When I opened the two doors, Roland was waiting with the Vespa. He easily rolled it inside and turned it so it was facing the door.
“There you go.” He removed the keys and handed them to me. “I better get going. Paul’s waiting for me.”
I walked him to his car. “Thanks again. And thank your mother and grandmother for me, too.”
“I will. Enjoy your new scooter.” He got behind the wheel and rolled down the window. “Hey, I meant to tell you that I might have to go to Portland on Saturday to pick up a part for the Chevelle. You want to tag along, maybe check out those stores you wanted to go to?”
“You don’t mind hanging out in art stores?” I teased him, happy he’d asked. I did need new supplies, and it would be nice to do something different for a change.
“Sara dragged me to every art store and bookstore in Portland. I think I can manage a few for you.”
“Okay, sounds like fun.”
“Great.” He started the car and put it in reverse. “I’ll call you.”
“See you on Saturday,” I called, ignoring the little voice in my head that said it sounded like we were making a date.
It’s not a date, and we’re just friends. I’d be just as happy if it was Scott or Brenda who had asked me. It had nothing to do with Roland Greene. Nothing at all.
* * *
“Hey, you ready for our trip to the big city?”
I laughed as I sank into the passenger seat of the Mustang. “I guess Portland is big compared to New Hastings.”
Roland grinned. “True. And the farther I can get from the Knolls right now, the better.”
“Aren’t you guys having a big family gathering? I’d think you’d want to be there for that.”
He huffed softly as he pulled out onto the street. “We have three quarters of the pack here now, and you can’t turn around without bumping into an un—a wolf. I love my family, but it’s just too much. You know?”
“I think so.” There had always been someone around at Westhorne too, only it was never crowded and there were places to go when I wanted to be alone. I liked being on my own, but I also missed having other people around. Guess I couldn’t have it both ways.
Hearing Roland talk about his family made my chest constrict. I’d give anything to be able to spend an hour with mine, let alone days or months or years. I didn’t begrudge him his family, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t envious. To belong to so many people, to always know you were loved and there were people who had your back no matter what. I could imagine no better life.
“You okay? You went quiet on me.”
“Just trying to imagine what it’s like living in a big pack like that. Do you all get together for holidays, too?”
“No, thank God.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Just once a year. This is my first time being there for the whole thing since I was fifteen. I never realized how crazy it is.”
“Where did you go if you weren’t at the gathering?” He seemed to almost dread the idea of being with the other wolves, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
He cleared his throat. “I…stayed with Sara whenever I could. I’ve slept on that old couch in the loft more times than I can remember.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” he said. “Even if I could stay at the apartment, it wouldn’t matter. My Alpha is making me attend a lot of the meetings this year. All adults have to be there.”
I relaxed my body. “What do you do when you’re not in meetings?”
“We have cookouts and parties, lots of them.”
The note of distaste in his voice told me he didn�
��t enjoy them, which was at odds with the Roland Sara had described. She’d told me he and Peter were always trying to get her to go to parties.
“When I don’t have to be there, I’m usually at the garage or patrolling,” he added. “Then there’s training and my job at the lumberyard.”
“Wow. It doesn’t sound like you have much free time.”
He shrugged and gave me a playful smile. “I manage to squeeze in some fun time – like teaching pretty girls to ride scooters.”
My stomach fluttered. He thinks I’m pretty?
Roland chuckled. “Are you blushing?”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. You Grey women are all alike. Sara turned red every time I flirted with her.”
“I…”
He laughed again. “I’m teasing you.”
“I know,” I lied.
“So, what do you do when you’re not working at the diner?” he asked as he took the exit to the highway. “Other than painting and exploring old mines.”
“How did you know I was at the mine?” I stared at him. “The black wolf told you.”
He gave me an indecipherable look. “You didn’t mind hanging out with a werewolf?”
“I’m hanging with you now.”
“I mean a werewolf in his fur. I know you have some kind of history with my kind and it made you afraid of us.”
I opened my mouth to say I didn’t want to discuss it, but he beat me to it.
“I’m not trying to pry into your past. I get that you’re private about some things, and I’m cool with that. I’m just trying to get a feel for what you think of us now. I want you to be happy here, and I’d like us to be friends.”
“I’d like that, too,” I said, warmed by the sincerity of his words. “And to answer your question, I am still a bit nervous around werewolves in general, like those two at the cove. But I’m not afraid to be with you. And your friend hasn’t given me any reason to fear him either. He’s actually pretty nice.”
“You like him?” Roland asked. He didn’t look at me, but he sounded pleased.
“Yes,” I said, surprising myself. I liked a werewolf – well, two werewolves. How about that?
He concentrated on the road for a minute. “Did you go to the cliffs while you were down that way?”