Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys

by Lynnette Austin

  Before she realized he was awake he nabbed it from her.

  She yelped and jumped back. “You scared me!”

  “You tickled me!”

  Giggling, she ran around to the passenger side of the car.

  “Hungry?”

  “And how!”

  “Figured we’d go home, grab a bite before we returned to slave on your production.”

  “Sounds good. What are you cooking?”

  “Popeye’s chicken.”

  She gave him a thumbs-up. “Cool.”

  “Let’s see your lip. Are you goin’ to be able to eat?”

  She stuck out her bottom lip, and he grimaced.

  “It actually doesn’t hurt too bad today. It looks worse than it feels.”

  “Glad to hear that.” He pushed his sunglasses back up his nose.

  They swerved into the chicken drive-up, placed their order, and rode home with lunch tucked behind the seat. Oh, yeah. Life was good.

  Parked in the driveway, Reiner grabbed the sack. “I’ll get this ready if you want to feed the rat.”

  “Hamster.”

  “No difference.”

  “So not true.” She wandered off into her bedroom, then trailed back into the kitchen within minutes dragging Shiner and his cage with her.

  “Ahh, now why did you have to bring him in here?” Reiner took a step back as she passed with the caged animal.

  Felicity stopped. “What?” She held up the cage and moved closer.

  Reiner fought the surge of panic, knowing it was exactly what she wanted. It didn’t matter. He lost the battle but covered it with a bid for hygiene. “Go on. Get him out of here. He’s dirty.”

  “No, he’s not.” Felicity pouted. “Shiner’s clean.” She put her face to the cage, poked a finger in. “Shiner loves Reiner, don’t you? Want to play with Reiner, Shiner? See? Your names even rhyme. It was meant to be.”

  “I’ll tell you what was meant to be. Him runnin’ through a field catchin’ his own dinner.”

  “You could go out and play together,” she said. “Shiner could catch dinner while you catch your pigskin.”

  “Cute, real cute,” Reiner said. “Now take the fearsome hamster with his lettuce back into your room, please.”

  The doorbell rang. Felicity rolled her eyes. “Who’s that? I thought it was just you and me for lunch.”

  “It is.” He pointed a butter knife at her. “Answer the door.”

  “I always have to answer the door.”

  Reiner sighed and held out his hand. “Ready? One, two, three.” His scissors cut her paper. “Be polite but get rid of whoever’s there.”

  “You can count on me!” She and Shiner moved in for the kill.

  “Turned a monster loose on some poor soul,” he muttered as he dumped the chicken into a bowl and set paper plates out on the counter. He opened a couple of sodas, tossed a stack of napkins on the counter, and figured they were good to go.

  “Felicity! We’re ready here! Wash up if you’re done messin’ with that rat! I’m starvin’. Come—”

  He stopped short as she rounded the corner, still carrying Shiner’s cage, a miffed expression on her young face that let him know he’d once again let her down somehow. Boy, his hero status sure as heck was taking a beating.

  “Did you get rid of—”

  She shook her head as a second person materialized, toting an overnight case and a Gucci handbag.

  “Hello, Reiner.”

  “Pamela?” The butter knife clattered to the counter.

  “Ah, so you do remember me.” Perfectly ached brows rose to hide behind wisps of platinum blond bangs. “I worried that maybe you’d developed amnesia. Maybe mad cow disease, lockjaw, something, had struck out here in the boonies. Clearly that’s not the case. You look well.”

  Tossing her head, sending a sheet of straight blond hair rippling over her shoulder, she surveyed the chicken bucket, the paper plates, and the slightly untidy kitchen. She wrinkled her nose at Shiner.

  “What a nice homey scene.” She nodded toward Felicity. “A little young, even for you, isn’t she? And rather...scruffy.”

  “Oh, come on, Pammie. She’s my niece.”

  “Your niece?” She laughed. “What? You’re into bachelor fatherhood now?” She dumped the overnighter onto the floor.

  “Cut it out. Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

  “Is she staying?” Felicity asked.

  Reiner opened his mouth, but before he could answer Pamela did. “That’s my plan, yes. My other bags are in the car. You can bring them in for me later, Reiner.”

  Hands on her hips, Felicity turned to him. “Is she sleeping with you?”

  He cursed. When he saw the automatic reproach on her lips, he narrowed his eyes to slits. Even she wouldn’t dare tell him to use fudge. Not now. Not in front of Pamela.

  She didn’t.

  He almost wished she had when she said instead, “Ms. McMichaels wouldn’t approve of the two of you sleeping together.”

  Reiner groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. “Oh, for—” Could this get any worse?

  “Ms. McMichaels?” Pamela looked from one to the other. “Who’s Ms. McMichaels?”

  “My Sex Ed teacher. She says abstinence is the right course of action until couples are married. Anything else leads to problems and complications.”

  Pamela rolled her eyes. “How provincial!” Then she swiveled to Reiner. “Aren’t you going to ask me to sit?”

  “Would you like to sit?”

  “Thank you.” She edged onto the seat of the white and chocolate banquette in the corner of the sunny kitchen. Swiping a hand over one of the marble pedestal tables, she smiled at Reiner. “Yes, I’d love something to drink. How nice of you to offer.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Water? Milk?”

  “Get real!”

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t get it, Petkins.”

  A snort burst from Felicity. “Pet-”

  Two of the blackest scowls ever to darken Earth silenced her.

  “You’re going to have to help me here,” Pamela continued. “Where’s the suave, debonair man who swept me off my feet? The one I—”

  “Duh,” Felicity cried. “Smack me in the head! How dumb can I be?”

  “Felicity,” Reiner warned.

  “No, finally I understand.”

  The black look he sent her would have had his two-hundred-and-fifty-pound teammates scattering to the farthest end of the football field. Not his niece. Not this time.

  “It was the suave, debonair guy.”

  “What?” Then he caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. God help him, he was certain he’d just given her exactly the opening she needed.

  “Don’t you see? It was him. That bright red thong in the bottom of your pool that first day I got here? The suave, debonair guy must’ve been the one who talked Gina out of it, and you got blamed!”

  She actually had the nerve to grin.

  The ticking of the clock, the hum of the refrigerator, the squeak of Shiner’s wheel, the singing of a bird outside the window were the only sounds.

  A full minute passed. One very uncomfortable minute. Even Felicity squirmed in her chair.

  Reiner studied Pamela, all glamour and model-glitz in a pencil-thin designer skirt and jacket. The bright peacock blue suited her. Beautiful beyond, well, beyond words. Yet compared to Katie Sara, she didn’t even make it to the starting line.

  Pamela was façade and window dressing, Katie Sara authentic flesh and blood. Pamela was parties and good times, Katie Sara home and heart. Pamela was me, me, me, while Katie Sara was all about others.

  Pamela stood, walked to him and twined an arm around his neck. “Sugar, I know we had a few problems, but they’re nothing we can’t work out.”

  “Oh, that’s rich,” he said. “Pammie, it’s been, what, eight, nine months since I’ve even seen you.” He peeled her loose, expensive French perfume, Prada suit and all. Give him flowin
g cotton dresses, cute little sandals, and clean flowery scents.

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “I’m done with that life, the one I led when you and I were together. That’s not who I am anymore.”

  She looked toward Felicity as though spotting a speck of dirt that needed swept out the door. Voice tight, the sweetness disappearing like a Popsicle in the summer heat, she said, “Why don’t you give me a tour of your new house, Reiner, and we’ll continue this discussion away from little ears.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Felicity chirped. “I’m mature enough to handle this. It’s okay.”

  Pamela, disconcerted, turned to Reiner for help.

  He ran his tongue along his upper teeth, trying to decide if he should ground Felicity or raise her allowance.

  “No,” Pamela finally said. “I don’t believe it is. Make her go away, Reiner.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Uncle Reiner. I need to feed Shiner anyway. Be back in a bit.”

  He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as she slid from her stool. “Actually, Felicity and I were sittin’ down to lunch.” He scooped up Pamela’s overnighter. “If you get started now, you should easily make Hilton Head or Atlanta before dark.”

  Pamela’s perfectly outlined and glossed mouth dropped open. “What’s happened to you?”

  “I’ve remembered what’s important, Pammie.”

  She smirked. “You really are a small-town boy, aren’t you?”

  “Yep, that’s me. Hayseed Broderick.” He stuck his thumbs in his jeans pockets in a parody of the country bumpkin.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity tiptoe out of the room. Fighting the urge to do the same, he said, “Why don’t I walk you to your car?”

  Not waiting for an answer, he thrust her purse at her and strode toward the front door. A few seconds later, the staccato tap of high heels on wood floor sounded behind him.

  Outside, she brushed past him and grabbed her case. Jerking open the door to her Lexus, she tossed it and her purse on the seat. Sliding in, she slammed the car door and, without a word of good-bye or a backward glance, shot out of the driveway.

  Reiner watched till she drove out of sight. Then he walked slowly into the house. A piece of his past. A piece that was no longer relevant.

  Everything he’d told Pamela had been true. He was exactly where he wanted to be. Not that he didn’t or wouldn’t want more occasionally. He’d still want to spend time at his beach condo or visit the city occasionally, but no more steady diet of the fast lane. Been there, done that. OD’d on it.

  He closed the front door behind him. “You can come out of hidin’ now. The Wicked Witch of the West is gone.”

  “Good. I’m hungry.” Felicity sprinted to the kitchen and crawled onto one of the stools at the counter.

  They filled their plates, and he watched in amazement as she chowed down like an over-sized lineman.

  “I can’t believe you dated her,” Felicity said around a mouthful of chicken. “I mean, she’s pretty and all, but she’s not a nice person. What did you two talk about?”

  Reiner held up the milk carton, judged it nearly empty, and decided to finish it off right out of the carton. He shrugged.

  “The sex must have been good,” she said drolly.

  A mouthful of milk spurted across the kitchen.

  Felicity stared at the stream of white. “Your mess, you clean it up. Gotta run. Sasha’s gonna drop Beth and me off at school to work on the sets. Later.”

  She scooted off the stool and disappeared.

  “Son of a—”

  Felicity peeked around the corner. Fluttering her lashes prettily, she simpered, “Fudge. Son of a fudge. Otherwise,” she sighed, “Auntie Belham might hear and then she’d be forced to wash your mouth out with her lavender soap.”

  Studying the splattered floor, she added, “And you’re out of milk to rinse with.”

  She took off at a dead run before he could catch her.

  He’d planned to write for an hour or two, then help with the sets before calling it a day. Once Felicity left, though, the house was too quiet. He couldn’t settle.

  His sleuth, Dirk Maverick, kept lusting after a dark-haired teacher instead of searching out clues to track down the murderer. Finally, he threw in the towel and left Dirk on his own.

  Out in his garage, delivered early this morning, his brand-new bike waited. Truth be told, he was itching to pick up Katie Sara and take her for a ride. By darn, that’s what he was going to do—even if he had to hog-tie her. He needed to be with her today. If only for a little while.

  And that admission cost him dearly.

  Grabbing the keys from his dresser drawer, he headed to the garage. Both his and Katie Sara’s helmets hung on pegs. He slid his on and bungee-corded hers to the bike.

  Barnie’d ordered parts for his old one, but it would be awhile before it would be road-ready again. So he'd had this one shipped to him from a Harley dealer in Atlanta. The way he figured it, he deserved a treat.

  He’d rather have Katie Sara. Since she wasn’t being very cooperative, he’d have to settle for a new Harley. For now.

  The powerful engine roared to life beneath him, and he goosed it. Man, he loved this thing already.

  When he pulled into the school parking lot, two boys with guitars were heading in. “Hey, guys!”

  “Wow! That a Harley?” one of them asked.

  “Yep, just got it today.”

  “Cool.”

  “Listen, I wonder if you could do me a big favor?”

  “Sure, Mr. Broderick,” the second said.

  “Ms. McMichaels is in there workin’. Wonder if you’d ask her to come out here a minute.”

  The boys nodded.

  “Ah, don’t tell her about my new bike here.” He winked at the two. “It’s kind of a surprise.”

  “Sure thing!”

  The two about fell over their feet rushing to do his bidding. If only Katie Sara were half as easy.

  As he leaned against his bike waiting, Kip Haskell strolled up to him. “Hey, Reiner! That fancy blond find you?”

  “Pammie? Where’d you meet her?”

  “Down at Barnie’s. I was picking up a couple parts for the city truck when she pulled in askin’ directions to your place.” Kip shook his fingers. “What a hottie! Whew! Guess, she didn’t find you, though, or you wouldn’t be here alone. You’d have to be a fool to walk away from a looker like that one!”

  “Call me a fool,” Reiner said.

  “No way!”

  “Sent her packin’.”

  “Dang, bet she’s as mad as a rooster in an empty henhouse.”

  “Got that right.”

  “Somebody right here in town interests you more, huh?”

  “Could be.” Reiner decided it was time to change the subject. “Heard you were the one who strung my banners.”

  Kip ducked his head, scuffing a foot over the pavement. “Yep.”

  “Thanks, pal.” Reiner clapped him on the back and hoped like hell the banners would never see the light of day again. As far as he was concerned, they should rot away, forgotten in some closet.

  “Reiner? You needed me?” Katie Sara started down the stairs to the parking lot.

  “Yeah.”

  Kip got the message. “See you around. My lips are sealed ’bout that blond.” In a louder voice, he said, “Hi, Katie Sara.”

  “Hi, Kip,” she called. Halfway down the steps, she caught a good look at his bike and whistled.

  Reiner grinned. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  “Oh, yes, she certainly is.” She circled the bike, taking it in.

  While she did, Reiner studied her. Denim shorts and a simple tee. No designer outfit ever created looked better than this simple one.

  “My other Harley’s gonna be in Intensive Care a long, long time.”

  “I really am so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Not your fault. Thought maybe you’d like to take a quick
ride.”

  The emotions came too quickly for her to mask them. Surprise, joy and eagerness, responsibility, doubt, disappointment. Fear.

  Before she could turn him down, he said, “We’ll keep it light. No serious discussions. No hittin’ on you. Just a bike ride on a beautiful summer afternoon. What could be wrong with that?”

  She snorted.

  “What?”

  “What did you say you got your degree in? BS?”

  “You don’t believe me. Okay, we’ll spit on it.” He held up his hand, palm to his mouth.

  “No, thanks,” she said quickly. “Think we can skip that.” Running a hand over the leather seat, she chewed her bottom lip. “There’s so much to do today.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Ace.”

  She caved to lust. “A short trip.”

  “Your helmet’s on the back.”

  “Not too sure of yourself, were you?”

  “Wanted to be prepared, just in case.” He straddled the bike and ran his hand along the deep maroon tank while she buckled her helmet. “It sure doesn’t compare with the first one I had, the one I learned to ride on. Remember it?”

  She nodded.

  “Thing was so old, I practically held it together with bailing wire. But I kept that baby as shiny as a recruit’s boots and tinkered on it constantly. I laid the thing down a few times, too, and left more than a little of my flesh on these back roads. Never with cowbells, though.”

  She winced and hopped on the back behind him, sliding her arms around him. “Well, let’s try to keep it up today.”

  “Oh, it’s up all right, Sex Ed teacher.”

  Red lit her face and neck. “Reiner Broderick, that’s not what I meant.” She swatted him.

  He ducked. “What? You don’t want me to wreck us or ditch the thing, right”

  “That’s not what you meant, and you know it.”

  “Really?” He turned, and she saw the glint in those mischievous blue eyes. "What did I mean then?”

  “You’re so cocky.”

  “Cocky?”

  “Oh, for— You’re juvenile!”

  She started to swing her leg off the bike, but he reached behind him and grabbed it. His hand slid over her bare skin and the heat zapped right to her core.

  “Stay. I’ll be good. I promise. Let me take you for a ride on my chariot.”