Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys

by Lynnette Austin

“Thank you!”

  She grinned. “Scoot. I’ve got things to finish here before I throw myself on Principal Carver’s mercy.”

  The girls raced out of the room and down the hall in the opposite direction Axel had gone.

  “What did I tell you?” Felicity asked. “I knew she’d help. She’s the best! And...” She wiggled her brows. “Since I’m gonna make Uncle Reiner help, we’ll see what happens.”

  “Do you think Axel and those other two creeps will do anything?”

  “No.” But Felicity said a prayer of thanks the boys weren’t after her. They were just plain mean. Ms. McMichaels could handle them, though.

  Against her better judgment, Katie Sara pulled into Reiner’s drive. Because she’d given the girls her word, she found herself about to enter the lion’s den. She parked her car, walked to the entrance, and rang the bell.

  “Door’s open.” The disembodied voice that barked through the intercom startled her. “Toss it on the kitchen counter. Money’s there for you.”

  She hesitated. Obviously, she didn’t have whatever he was expecting. Curiosity overcame good sense; she couldn’t resist. Stepping inside, she sighed, not surprised at what she saw. The inside matched the outside and was spectacular. A lot of stone, a lot of wood. The decorator had done a great job. She’d kept it simple and uncluttered, yet, oh, so impressive. It screamed taste and wealth. Perfection.

  More important, it was scattered with personal touches of Reiner. On a bookcase, in a place of honor, sat his pride and joy—his framed piece of the tie James Dean had worn in Rebel Without A Cause. He’d begged his parents for that on his sixteenth birthday. She was glad he still had it.

  As she moved toward the back of the house, she saw signs of human habitation. A book left open on a loveseat, a glass of—she sniffed—Yuck!—day-old milk on the end table.

  Then she reached the kitchen. Oh, my gosh! How she’d love to get her hands on this room! State-of-the-art everything. Black granite. White floor-to-ceiling cabinets with a ladder rail like in a library. She’d die for the center island with its hanging pot rack alone, but when she wandered into the butler’s pantry, she fell head-over-heels in love.

  A few dishes in the sink and a pizza box on the counter spoke of spotty use. Chinese take-out containers and Wendy’s bags filled the trash. The room was definitely underutilized.

  Where was Reiner? Did he make a habit of letting people wander in and out of his house? Urge them to take his money and run?

  Sounds drifted from a small room off to the right. Moving to it, she found the door open and simply leaned against it, watching him. This was a side of him she’d never imagined. He sat at a desk, reading glasses on, and working at a computer, so engrossed in whatever appeared on his monitor she could have walked off with his house and he wouldn’t have had a clue.

  “Reiner?”

  He jumped out of his chair, scattering pages. “Katie Sara!”

  “I stopped by to tell Felicity that Carver gave us the green light on the auditorium. The catch, though, is the only open date is a week from this Friday. Is she here?”

  “No, she’s over at Beth’s.” He ran fingers through his hair.

  “To be honest, I don’t know if they can pull everything together by then. In the meantime, though, I reserved it and started putting out feelers for talent and stage workers.”

  “Thanks. That’s awfully nice of you. For some reason, this is important to her. I thought it would be easier to buy what they needed, but—” He rubbed his throwing shoulder. “I’ll tell her.”

  She took a step to leave.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her hand, but she snatched it away. “Don’t go.”

  “I have to.”

  He studied her eyes. “Don’t regret Saturday night.”

  “I don’t. But it can’t happen again.”

  “Why?”

  Her heart hammered, but she wouldn’t get caught up in it. Wouldn’t let those cobalt eyes, that seductive voice suck her in. Instead of answering, she picked up one of the pages that had floated onto her shoe. “What is all this? What on earth are you doing?”

  Reading the header on the page, she scanned the room, noted several Dirk Maverick mysteries, then glanced at the computer screen. Her gaze swung back to him. “I’m afraid to even ask.”

  “Then don’t,” he growled, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck.

  “You’re Chance Fitzgerald, aren’t you?”

  He blew out a breath and flopped into his chair.

  Incredulous, she tucked a hand on her hip. “You are. You write the Dirk Maverick mystery series!”

  He swore ripely.

  “Caught red-handed.” She picked up one of the books and flipped through the pages. “I never thought I’d see you read a book, let alone write one!”

  “Very funny!” His right leg pumped up and down nervously. “I wanted to do it without the celebrity status of Reiner Broderick, pro-football star. See if plain old Chance Fitzgerald could sell a manuscript.”

  “Good for you, Chance.” She admired his guts.

  Reiner’s scowl deepened.

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” She tapped him playfully on the shoulder with her fist. “Honest.”

  “I know that.”

  “You never said a word.”

  He shrugged. “It never came up.”

  “No, I guess it didn’t.”

  “A lot of things don’t come up enough. Not for my taste, anyway,” he muttered.

  She wet suddenly dry lips. Here it was. The time to step into that confessional and bare her soul...and undoubtedly suffer the wrath of hell. Forevermore.

  “Reiner...” She closed her eyes momentarily, plucked at her denim shorts, then tugged at the hem of her white top.

  “Katie Sara, what’s wrong?” He stood, placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped it so she had to face him. Touching her shoulder, he gently nudged her into a soft leather chair, then sat on its arm.

  “We need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you. I—”

  The front door banged open. “Uncle Reiner, I’m starving! Food! I need food! Is it here yet?”

  An oath erupted from him. “In a minute.” He started to close the study door, but Katie Sara sprang to her feet, shaking her head.

  “No.”

  He grabbed her hand and, using his free thumb, wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  Felicity rounded the corner. “Whoops. Sorry.” She executed a U-turn on a dime.

  “Too late, monster. Damage done,” he managed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said from the other room. “Really. But since I already blew the romantic ambience and all, can we eat? I’ll find some candles. How about that?”

  Katie Sara buried her face in his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her whole body began to convulse, and he tensed till he realized she was laughing. The imp had managed to save the day after all.

  “Chinese takeout by candlelight.” He kissed the top of her head.

  She felt so good, so right in his arms. He ran his hand up and down her back. Not a single button on the gauzy little top she wore today. He slid his fingers beneath her blouse and laid his hand flat against her warm, silky skin.

  What had she wanted to talk about that had made her so sad? Had she planned to tell him there’d be no repeats of Saturday night? Because if that was it, she ought to know he intended to change her mind right back.

  Or maybe she’d stumbled onto something about her dad. Some deep, dark secret she couldn’t bear to carry alone? His hand slid down to her waist, encircled her protectively.

  “There’s no food out here!”

  “Wong hasn’t—”

  The doorbell rang. “There you go,” he said. “Saved by the bell.”

  “Oh,” Katie Sara groaned. “I sure hope you’re not using lines like that in your books.”

  “Sugar, give me credit. My writing’s brilliant.”

  Her brows shot up.

  “Sells
well.”

  “Yes, it does. I see the series everywhere.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe you’ve managed to keep it a secret.”

  “That’s not going to last much longer. My publisher wants me to do a book tour, so guess I’ll have to ’fess up soon.”

  A shadow passed over her eyes.

  “Katie Sara—”

  “Reiner, we really do need to talk.”

  “I know. And we will.” He kissed her palm. “Later.”

  “But—”

  “Later. Want to stay for dinner?” he asked. “Candlelit haute cuisine on the terrace.”

  A sad smile of resignation crossed her face. “Sure, why not? By the way, thanks for the money.”

  “Money?”

  “From the counter.” She held up several bills. “Nice of you to leave it for me.” The instant the words left her lips, a blush shot up her neck and face.

  “I don’t think I’m hungry for Chinese anymore. Katie Sara, you destroy me.” His lips covered hers, the money fluttering to the floor.

  “Mr. Broderick? You want I leave food in kitchen?”

  “He needs some money!” hollered Felicity. “There’s none here.”

  Reiner gave a strangled laugh, then kissed Katie Sara’s neck. “Let’s go.”

  Ignoring the money scattered on the floor, he dug a fifty out of his pocket. Reiner exchanged the money for the two bags of food Wong set on the counter and wished him the happiest of days.

  From the look on the young man’s face when he saw the bill’s denomination, it just might have been.

  “Did you tell Reiner about those boys?” Felicity asked around a mouthful of pork lo mein.

  Reiner’s head snapped up.

  Katie Sara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing to tell, honey.”

  “What happened?”

  “Three boys threatened her at school today. And it’s not the first time. They called her a bitch and said they’d see her later.”

  His blue eyes iced over.

  “Typical badass, teenage boy stuff,” she said.

  Felicity’s eyes, dark with black liner, rounded.

  Reiner pointed a fork at her. “You’re not at school now. What’s said here, stays here. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  “I mentioned it to Carver, the principal, when I wrote the boys up, but I doubt he’ll do anything. He seems to take a sit-back-and-wait attitude.” She threw him a lopsided smile. “They’re harmless, only testing.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  But he did. When she was ready to leave later, he said, “Lock up.”

  “I always do. Windows and doors. It’s a big-city habit I can’t seem to break.”

  “Don’t even try. Felicity, go feed some of that lettuce to Shiner.”

  “But—”

  “Go.”

  “Gotcha.” She flew from the room.

  Reiner wrapped an arm around Katie Sara’s waist and walked her to her car. “Want to go out to dinner Friday?”

  She bit her lip. “We’ve been through this. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Goin’ out with Dru?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “That serious or purely entertainment?”

  “Entertainment? See, that’s part of the problem. To me, dating isn’t entertainment.”

  “What is it, then? Is every date a dress rehearsal for a walk down the aisle? Is each guy being test driven so you can decide whether or not he’s worth investin’ in?”

  Twin spots of color dotted her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll ask again. Are you goin’ out with Dru Friday night?”

  She sighed deeply. “No.”

  “See, that didn’t hurt so much, now, did it?”

  “Reiner, you’re—”

  “Uh, uh, uh. Don’t say it.” He lowered his voice. “Go out to dinner with me. It’ll be like old times.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Finally, she broke it. “Like old times? We really didn’t do much eating out before. Maybe grabbed a burger at the drive-in, but if I remember correctly, we spent most of our time—”

  Scorching heat raced through him. “Don’t. I’m on a real short leash here, Ace.”

  She laughed, the sound enticing. He fought with the demons that urged him to kiss her, to drag her into his bedroom, to lock the door, and to hell with the consequences.

  Then she sobered. “Dinner’s not a good idea.”

  “We can talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Eyes focused, he watched the transformation, read her changed expression. The same one he wore when he’d thrown a Hail Mary and was waiting for the other team to grab it and cut him off at the knees.

  What was going on in her head? Being around women was like walking through a field salted with land mines.

  Confused, he changed tactics. “Here’s the deal. You’d be helping me out of a real bind. Felicity’s a mystery to me. Damn if I understand thirteen-year-old girls. You were one. Have dinner with me. Talk to me.”

  He saw the softening in her eyes and pushed his advantage. “I want to talk about those jerks at school today, too. I’m not so sure I shouldn’t go pay them and their parents a visit.”

  “Forget them. You’re not my keeper, Reiner. I’ll let you know about dinner.”

  Rather than go straight home, Katie Sara stopped at the Piggly Wiggly and picked up a half-gallon of ice cream, some chocolate topping, whipped cream, and one of those little jars of maraschino cherries. Loaded down, she drove to Rhonda’s, determined to do a little spoiling.

  Nicole and Krista threw open the front door.

  “Hey, girls, anyone hungry for a hot-fudge sundae?”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. They all tucked into big bowls of ice cream while the girls told Katie Sara about their day. When they finished, Rhonda washed the chocolate sauce from little Krista’s hands and face, then she and Nicole headed up to bed.

  A couple minutes later, Krista’s tiny voice floated downstairs. “Come kiss us good-night, Mommy.”

  “Go on,” Katie Sara said. “I’ll volunteer for KP duty and clear up this ice cream mess.” She moved to the bottom of the stairs and called, “Night, girls. Sleep tight and don’t let those bed bugs bite.”

  Krista giggled, and Nicole said, “Krista’s the only thing around here that bites.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do, too.”

  “Uh-uh. Ask Mommy.”

  Rhonda put her hands together in prayer and started upstairs.

  “Sorry,” Katie Sara said.

  “It’s okay. They live for things to argue about.”

  Within ten minutes, Rhonda and Katie Sara found themselves alone in a spotless kitchen. The house quieted.

  “Cup of tea?” Rhonda asked.

  “No, but I’d like to know how you’re doing. You’ve avoided me these last couple of days at school.” She tugged her friend into a chair. “Reiner told me what happened.”

  Rhonda buried her face in her hands. “I am beyond ashamed that I let Woody do that again.”

  “Look at me.” Katie Sara drew her friend’s hands away and held them in her own. “Don’t you be ashamed for what he does. He’s the guilty party.”

  Rhonda shook her head. “No. I allowed him. By not demanding he treat me with respect, I all but gave him permission to terrorize me. Never again.”

  She squeezed Katie Sara’s arm. “You have no idea how magnificent Reiner was.” Then she laughed. “I know the word sounds overblown, but it’s the only one I can think of that even comes close to describing what he did. He fixed me tea, Katie Sara. Bad Boy Reiner Broderick held me while I cried. He made ice bags for my face out of tea towels.

  “And Katie Sara.” Her voice lowered. “The man’s in love with you. Bone-deep, can’t-see-stra
ight in love.”

  When she opened her mouth, Rhonda stopped her. “I know he can talk a cat out of a tree, but it wasn’t so much what he said. It was his face, his eyes.”

  Screwing the lid back on the cherries, Katie Sara said, “I can’t become involved with him again.” She forced herself to meet her friend’s gaze. “Trust me on this, Rhonda. I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, I— Oh, God!” Katie Sara dropped her head onto her folded arms as the tears started.

  At the sound of Rhonda’s chair scraping back, Katie Sara shook her head. “I’m okay.” She took the Kleenex her friend offered and swiped at her eyes.

  “Rhonda, I am the world’s worst hypocrite. Here I sit, telling you to be strong. To stand up to Woody.” Her chin trembled. “Yet I can’t face Reiner with what I’ve done.”

  “Katie Sara?”

  “When he left your house the other night—” She studied her pinky ring. Collected, she met Rhonda’s gaze again. “He came to see me, demanding to know if I’d had an abortion.”

  At her friend’s gasp, Katie Sara smiled ruefully. “Something my mother said after the memorial service made him think about the way I’d run off.”

  “He couldn’t possibly—”

  “Oh, but he did.” Katie Sara said. “And before you defend me—”

  “You didn’t!”

  She shook her head. “No, but I could have. I was pregnant, Rhonda. With Reiner’s baby. That’s why Mother hustled me out of town.”

  Hurt and confusion battled in her friend’s eyes along with betrayal, a breach of trust.

  Katie Sara lowered her head and picked at her cuticle. “I never told him.” She swiped at another stray tear. “That was so wrong. So unfair. So unforgivable. My mother insisted it was for the best, and, at the time, I thought maybe she was right, but—” She raised her head. “When he came over the other night, he offered me the perfect opportunity to finally come clean.”

  She stared at the ceiling. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. It had been such an awful day. I couldn’t face the hate I’d see on his face.”

  “You slept with him that night, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  Rhonda closed her eyes and made a small sound.

  “I know.” She shredded the tissue. “That makes it worse. I violated his trust again. A sin of omission.”