“Someday, my knight will ride in here and rescue me,” she would say softly to herself when things got bad. On a particularly terrible day she would add under her breath, “That, or one day I am going to go postal and wipe out this whole damn place.”
She was in the middle of replacing the drive belt on a twenty-year-old Harley Sportster when she heard David Carlisle’s whiney voice. “You don’t need to talk to the mechanics. I guarantee we’ve got the best mechanics this side of the Rockies. And they all have the latest certifications.”
Crouched down behind the bike on its repair stand she couldn’t see who he was talking to, but then she heard a deep, firm voice say, “But you aren’t the one who will be working on my bike. I would like to check him out before I let him touch my 1300… And I’d like to see his certifications.”
Amanda stood up from behind the bike. Her thin T-shirt was clinging slightly to her body, so there was immediately no doubt that she was a woman. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of the way while she worked. Her face flashed with anger for just an instant as she looked at Dave, then softened greatly as she turned her gaze to Ron’s tall, muscular frame.
“Certs are on the wall,” she said matter-of-factly. “They’re all up to date and valid. You can check the numbers on the Honda factory website if you don’t believe me.”
“Don’t mind her,” Dave cut in. “She’s a little mouthy. Good mechanic, but the woman don’t know her place.”
“And what is her place!?” asked Ron. There was obvious anger in his voice, also apparent on his face. Dave stared at him for a moment and then harrumphed loudly and stomped back to his office.
Amanda took a closer look at the handsome stranger who was defending her against her sleazy boss. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. In the background, through the open shop doors, she could see his ride. The black and white ST1300 stood on the asphalt in the sun like a powerful warhorse. “You even rode in on a black and white steed,” she said softly to herself.
“What?” Ron asked. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
Amanda blushed slightly and said, “What’s wrong with the bike? It looks pretty new.”
“Routine maintenance,” he answered. “But I wanted to check out the mechanic before he—or she—worked on the bike.”
“So,” she replied, “do I check out?”
Her smile told Ron that the double entendre was intentional. Ron coughed slightly. “Yes, the mechanic checks out. I would trust you to work on my bike.” Then he returned her smile and added, “The woman checks out, too.” After a pause, he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Amanda. What’s yours?”
“Ron,” he answered. “Ronald Pilau.”
“Oh,” she said as the recognition showed on her face. Her voice was much less bright as she continued, “You were a couple years behind me in high school.” She looked down at the ground and then back up at Ron and asked, “You were one of the Snakes, weren’t you? The one the police let go?” She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as she realized that her hopes, which had just been raised so high, were once again crushed. “Do you still ride with them?” she asked.
In answer Ron turned to show the blank back of his vest. “According to them, I never did,” he said flatly. “At least that’s what they said when they threw me out.” He laughed slightly. “I haven’t been able to join up with anyone else since then. Clubs I would like to affiliate with are afraid of my Snake background. And the clubs that would welcome a former Snake aren’t exactly what I’m looking for. I went down that rat hole, or should I say snake hole, once before. It wasn’t for me then and it isn’t for me now.”
“So,” she began, “have you come back to your home town on your good guy bike as The Lone Ranger trying to right all wrongs or as Don Quixote coming to rescue the Lady Dulcinea?” Her voice was somewhere between sarcasm and hope.
“Actually,” he answered, “I came here because my dying father asked to see me one last time. And I stayed because my mother begged me to help with the store until she can get it sold.” He then met her gaze directly and continued evenly, “I don’t have a mask and I left my lance in storage in Reno.”
“But you defended Dulcinea against the dragon,” she replied. The brightness and hope was back in her voice.
“Is that how you see yourself?” he asked.
“I have a drunken ex who won’t pay child support, a nine-year-old who lives in his own autistic world, and… well, you met Dave.” She shrugged and began wiping off her tools. “I have three bikes ahead of you,” she said. “Should be able to get to yours late tomorrow or the next day. You want to leave it now, or will you bring it back in tomorrow?”
“I’ll bring it back in,” he replied. “I need it tonight to pick up my date for dinner, if she can get a sitter for her son.”
“Oh,” Amanda answered. Disappointment showed through her voice. “Who’s your date and where are you going?”
“You,” he said with a grin. “And I’ll let you choose the place.”
“Dave will have a fit if I leave on time—or as he calls it, ‘early,’ but today, he will just have to live with it. I’m supposed to get off at five.” She set the cover plate in place on the roadster as she continued speaking. “Tommy is at my mom’s. I just need to call her and tell her what is going on and then stop by to tell Tommy what is happening.” She looked up at Ron. “He is on a very consistent schedule and gets easily upset if there is any change. It should only take a few minutes to get him to understand.”
“I’ll pick you up at your place at six,” Ron replied. “Just tell me the address.”
“The old Swan motel,” she laughed. “They converted the rooms to small apartments. There isn’t really an address. Nobody uses addresses in this town anyway. It’s over on Fourth near the highway. Apartment seven on the second floor. I’ll hear you coming and meet you at the base of the steps.”
“Where would you like to eat?”
“Gombardi’s has the best Italian food in town,” she replied immediately.
“See you at six,” Ron said as he walked back to his bike. Maybe his stay in Melbourne might not be so bad after all.
***
The sign in front of the Swan Motel had been cheaply repainted to read Swan Apartments. It was obviously not top of the line in accommodations, but it fit Amanda’s obviously struggling economic situation. She was standing at the foot of the steps to the second floor balcony when Ron turned his bike into the parking lot.
“I talked to mom,” she said as he pulled up. “She’ll watch Tommy for the evening, but we have to stop by so I can explain things to him.” She then got on the bike behind Ron and gave him directions to her mother’s home. It was an older, cottage-style house with all of the little signs that there was no longer a man around to do the minor maintenance that every home needs.
“You didn’t say anything about your dad,” Ron said as they walked toward the front door. “Is he out of the picture?”
“He died four years ago,” she answered. “He was around long enough to see that his warnings about Brad were right, but at least he didn’t have to see how bad it really became.”
Ron started to ask more but Amanda’s mother opened the door as they stepped onto the porch. “Mandy,” she said brightly as she ushered them into the living room, “this must be your knight in shining armor.” Turning to Ron she said with a smile, “You can call me Martha. Mandy said your name is Ronald. Do you prefer that or Ron?”
“Call me Ron,” he replied with a laugh.
“And this is Tommy,” Amanda said quietly, gesturing toward a young boy sitting on the floor with several decks of cards spread out in front of him. “He is always playing with those cards,” she said, “but only he understands what game he is playing with them. I’ll explain to him that the routine for tonight is changed.”
Ron held up his hand with his index finger raised and mouthed, “Give me just a minute.”
Then he sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of Tommy.
It was more than a minute. Actually it was almost ten minutes that he sat there silently as Tommy arranged and rearranged the cards on the floor in front of him. Finally Ron said, “Is it OK if I talk to you, Tommy?”
Tommy looked up at him and nodded.
“Your mom and I are going to go out to dinner tonight. That means you have to stay with your grandmother for the evening.” He looked up at Amanda and then said, “If tonight goes well and your mom and I find out we like each other, maybe next time we will take you with us.” He paused and looked at Tommy. “Is that okay with you?”
Tommy again nodded a “yes.”
As Ron started to stand up Tommy said, “Mom really likes Italian food, but pepperoni gives her gas.”
Amanda held her hands over her mouth in embarrassed surprise. Her mother just laughed. Then, without looking up, Tommy held up his hand toward Ron. There were two cards face down in his fingers. “These are for you, Mr. Nice Man,” he said.
Ron took them, said, “Thank you,” and put them in his shirt pocket.
“Don’t worry about picking Tommy up tonight,” Martha said as they started toward the door. “I will just put him to bed here. That way you don’t have to worry about the time or—” she looked at Ron, “—or whatever.”
“Mother!” Amanda said abruptly.
Martha leaned in toward her daughter and said in just above a whisper, “This is the first time Tommy has ever spoken to a stranger without being coaxed by you or me or his therapist. You don’t want to let this one get away.”
Amanda continued to stare at her mother, but Ron took her arm and said, “Your ride and a nice Italian dinner awaits. Shall we be going?”
***
Gombardi’s Restauranti was an old-style Italian restaurant that now had three generations of Gombardis working there. Geovanni Gombardi, the patriarch of the family, ushered them to one of the booths in the back. As he handed them menus, he said the standard, “Your server will be with you shortly.” But then he added, “I put you back here where it is a little more private so you can-a talk. We aren’t very busy tonight, so take-a your time with your meal.”
A waiter hustled up to him and handed hima bottle of Chianti, which he placed on the table before saying, “Tonight, for you, the wine, she is on the house.”
Amanda waited until Geovanni had walked away and then asked, “What is that all about? Does he know you?”
Ron looked out into the room for a few moments before he answered. “I did some remodeling for him back in the day,” he said softly.
“That wasn’t a thank you for remodeling.” Amanda said, somewhat sharply. “There was something else, wasn’t there?”
Ron delayed his answer by carefully uncorking the bottle of wine and pouring each of them a glass of the dark liquid. He took a sip and bit at his lip for a moment and then answered, “I also talked his granddaughter into leaving town.”
Amanda’s face showed her confusion.
“…The day before she was to be initiated into the Tiger Snakes as their newest Momma.”
“What happened after that?”
“There was no ‘after that,’” he replied. “I hadn’t recruited her. She wasn’t one of the typical princess bitches. She was just a mixed up kid who wanted to rebel against her parents.”
Amanda continued to look at him and so he continued, “The day she left town was the day before the raids. The initiation would never have happened anyway. But three of the Snakes who died at the clubhouse were Mommas who got caught in the crossfire. John thinks I saved his granddaughter’s life.”
He took a sip of his wine. “Maybe I did. She put her life back together and married a nice Italian boy in Vegas. They’ve got a couple of kids. No one up there knows about her past, but then, people in Vegas don’t ask a lot of questions about people’s pasts. Neither do people in Reno.”
Geovanni was right. They weren’t very busy, and it was very quiet back where Ron and Amanda were sitting. She found herself telling him about her dreams and how they had been shattered. In response, he told her about his life growing up as a “half-breed” and how it had almost driven him to the same level of hatred and bitterness that he saw in the other Tiger Snakes. Both wondered why they were telling each other things that they hadn’t told anyone else ever before. Some things of his trials in school Ron had never told to anyone—not his friends, not his fellow Snakes, not even his mother or father.
Somewhere during the evening, a second bottle of wine appeared on the table. Around 11:30 Geovanni passed by the table and announced that they would be closing at midnight. Their waiter stopped at the table. Before he could set the bill on the table, Geovanni picked it up and crossed something off. “The second bottle of wine,” he said, “that’s on-a the house, too.”
Then he leaned down toward Ron and said, “You treat this-a lovely lady right, sonny boy. Her momma, she’s a cousin to me.”
When he left, Ron said, “He’s your cousin?”
“He’s everyone’s cousin,” she replied. “But mom says we are actually related way back there somewhere.”
Ron dropped a stack of money on the tray with the bill. The waiter would be very pleased with the amount of the tip. “I guess it’s time to take you home,” he said as he offered his arm to Amanda.
“Is there somewhere else we could go to talk?” she asked.
“In this town?” he replied with a laugh. “Even my mom’s place closes overnight during the week.”
“What about your place?”
Ron stopped laughing. “It’s just a motel room with a small kitchen and dining area,” he said. He looked at Amanda. His face was very serious. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“No,” she answered, not quite meeting his eyes, “but everyone else seems to think we are made for each other. Maybe we should see if we are.”
“That’s not exactly an enthusiastic approach to spending a night together,” he said softly, “but I’ll take you to my place so we can talk… or whatever.” He laughed slightly as he realized he was repeating her mother’s words.
“If it isn’t working out, just say so, and I’ll take you home.” He grinned, “Well, up to a certain point. There is a point of no return for any man, but I’ll try my best to keep my promise.”
“There is for a woman, too,” she replied. “But if it isn’t right, I’ll try to turn around early enough for both of us.”
***
Both Ron and Amanda were silent for the short ride to his motel room. Neither spoke as they walked up to the door and entered. It was as Ron had described: a more or less standard motel room with extra space on the other side of the bed that was taken up with a small kitchen and a four-person table.
“My apartment in Reno is a little bigger,” Ron finally said, “but not much.”
He turned and they faced each other. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
He did.
It was their first kiss. Actually, other than the few times when he had taken her arm or hand to lead her somewhere, or when she had put her arms around his waist as they rode, it was the first time they had intentionally touched.
The kiss began very tentatively. Their lips brushed against each other lightly as if they were unsure whether or not to proceed. Their minds may have had reservations, but their bodies did not. The response to that light kiss was as if a huge charge of electricity surged between them. Amanda pushed her lips forcefully against Ron’s, and in response his tongue moved out between her open lips.
Suddenly their bodies were tight against each other and it was hot—way too hot in that small room. Whatever the point of no return was, they were both rapidly approaching it. They tore at each other’s clothing, trying to remove anything which would separate them in the slightest.
Ron pulled her tightly against his chest. She moaned as the pressure pressed her nipples tightly against his ribs. Their hands ran up and down each other’s bac
ks. Ron could feel a slight tingle as her fingernails slightly scratched his skin.
Somewhere along the line, Ron reached down and pulled the covers from the bed. Soon, they were rolling naked on the bed, alternating who was on top and who was running their hands up and down the length of the other’s body.
Finally, they stopped with Ron on top. Amanda allowed her legs to open and arched her body upward against him. He raised himself onto his arms and positioned himself between her legs. Then he stopped and looked down at her.
“Yes,” she breathed heavily, and he thrust himself into her.
If their initial kiss was a surge of electricity, this was a lightning strike. Amanda cried out as she exploded almost immediately into orgasm and continued to go higher as Ron thrust in and out of her for several more minutes before collapsing on top of her with a heavy groan of his own.
Hard Ride Home (Tiger Snakes Motorcycle Club) Page 2