Shooting the Moon

by Brenda Novak

  Lauren blew air out her cheeks and wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. “One ride,” she muttered to herself and fastened her helmet.

  “Where are we going?” she called above the noise.

  “You’ll see,” he said, offering her a hand.

  Lauren considered his hand, stretched out to help her onto the bike. Once she accepted it, she knew Harley wouldn’t let her chicken out. Oddly, she found that knowledge reassuring. Wherever he was going, she was going with him, and it felt right.

  “Okay,” she said, even though he couldn’t hear her, and settled herself behind him.

  The vibration of the motor instantly began to resonate through her whole body, but as she slipped her arms around Harley’s trim waist, the contact between them seemed to melt something deeper, something in her soul. She loved this man. He was her sister’s old boyfriend, Brandon’s dad and her father’s nemesis, but in this moment, none of that seemed to matter. He belonged to her.

  Harley gave the bike some gas and they coasted out of the hotel parking lot, but he stopped at the curb long enough to twist around and look at her. “Your ankle okay?” he hollered.

  Tightening her grip, she nodded and closed her eyes.

  He turned onto the street, wove through the downtown traffic until they reached the suburbs, then opened up the throttle on the highway.

  Lauren felt utterly weightless as they flew over the pavement. Trees, houses, telephone poles, everything blurred before her. There was only the rush of wind, the incredible power of the bike and its deafening noise—and Harley, completely in control, his body firm and warm and pressed against hers.

  Sex couldn’t be any better than this, Lauren decided, smiling to herself, but long before she was ready to stop, Harley slowed the bike and turned down a dirt road that led to a small pond. Wildflowers in orange and yellow bloomed at the edges of the water amid tall grasses and a copse of aspens that lent dappled shade, making it feel private.

  When they came to a stop, Harley put a foot to the ground, turned off the motor and lowered the kickstand.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, her ears ringing in the sudden silence. Reluctantly, she let go of him and got carefully off the bike to avoid reinjuring her ankle. “How did you know about this place?”

  “I used to come here in high school, when I got into a fight with one of my mother’s boyfriends.”

  “Did she have a lot of boyfriends?” she asked, limping to the edge of the pond.

  “Loneliness doesn’t exactly promote selectivity.” He crossed his arms and leaned against his bike, watching her.

  “Did her boyfriends ever beat you?” she asked, even though she was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  He shrugged. “I took a couple of whippings, but I probably deserved them. I resented the presence of another man in the house, hated the way it changed my mother’s focus. All of a sudden, she didn’t seem to care about me, so I became determined to make myself noticed—which generally caused a fight that got me kicked out of the house for the night.” He shrugged again, a nonchalant expression on his face. “I wasn’t an easy kid to raise.”

  “Did you sleep here when you got kicked out?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Lauren wondered why he’d brought her here, why he’d wanted to take her for a ride in the first place. “Does this little spot hold painful memories for you?”

  He grinned. “No, it’s just the closest thing to a meadow I know.”

  Lauren glanced up at him in surprise. Was he referring to the argument they’d had after Brandon’s karate class, when he’d accused her of being too uptight? When he’d asked her if anyone had ever tumbled her in a meadow? She couldn’t say for sure. He wasn’t looking at her. And he certainly wasn’t making any attempt to kiss her.

  Bending, he found a little rock and skipped it across the water. “What did you think of the bike?”

  Lauren tried to rein in her enthusiasm so she wouldn’t seem silly for being reluctant before, but he called her on it immediately.

  “Judging by the size of the smile that’s trying to slip out, I’d say you liked it.”

  She nodded. What she’d liked was riding so close behind him and having the perfect excuse to hold him. She doubted riding with anyone else would have provided the same experience. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “So, you’re not afraid anymore?”

  “I wouldn’t want to try driving it myself. But you seem to know what you’re doing.”

  His smile grew crooked. “I’m impressed. Little Lauren Worthington can admit when she’s wrong.”

  “Don’t press your luck,” she said. “You still can’t control the other drivers on the road. You could easily die on that thing.”

  “We all gotta go sometime.”

  Lauren sat on the bank and took off her ankle wrap, then slipped her foot in the cool pond, hoping it would ease the swelling. “When are you planning to file for custody of Brandon?” she asked.

  He came to sit next to her, clasping his arms around his knees. “I was going to do it this week,” he said, gazing into the distance. “But…” He looked at her, then looked away. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to hurt you. Maybe if you go back to your father and tell him I’ll back off, he’ll let you move home and everything will return to the way it was before. As far as I’m concerned, maybe we can work out some visitation. Even if Quentin won’t agree, you and Brandon could meet me now and then.”

  Lauren felt a sense of astonishment—of shock. Harley was giving up Brandon, for her? “That’s the greatest sacrifice anyone’s ever made for me,” she said, so touched she could hardly speak. “I know how much you love your son.”

  He said nothing, so she took her foot out of the water and turned to face him, wanting him to see her expression and her sincerity when she added, “But I don’t want to move home, Harley.”

  His brows shot up. “Then, what do you want?”

  “I want you to get custody of Brandon.”

  “What?” he said, rocking back.

  “My parents are getting older and they aren’t prepared to raise another child, at least not without me there to help them. So—” she started wrapping her ankle again so she wouldn’t have to see his reaction to this next part “—I was thinking I’d contribute to your attorney’s fees and, afterward, maybe you and I can share Brandon. Just like a divorced couple shares their children.”

  She couldn’t help looking at him then, and saw him take a quick breath. “As long as that kind of arrangement is okay with Brandon, of course,” she said.

  “But I live in California,” he told her. “You wouldn’t get to see him very often.”

  “I would if I moved to California. I could rent an apartment or a house not far from where you live.”

  A gentle breeze stirred her hair, and he raised a hand to smooth it away from her face. “You’d trust me that much?” he asked, and she thought she saw a flicker of strong emotion register in the depths of his eyes.

  She smiled and nodded toward his bike. “I’m trusting you with my life, remember?”

  BRANDON SAT IN HIS ROOM, reading the same page in his math book over and over because he couldn’t seem to understand what it said. He was suspended from school until Wednesday, which meant he had a lot of homework to do so he wouldn’t fall behind. But with the way his mind kept wandering and his eyes kept stinging every time he thought of Lauren or his father, he didn’t think he’d get anywhere with it.

  Propping his chin on one fist, he stared glumly out the window. His grandfather had forbidden him to contact Harley, but Brandon had no plans to obey. Especially now that Lauren was gone. He was just waiting for a chance to slip into the study, to call his father. He’d already tried Lauren’s cell once, before Grandfather knew he was up, and received no answer. She’d left a note on his desk telling him not to be upset, that she’d be in touch soon. But Grandfather had been hovering about the house all morning, pa
cing, growling to himself and snatching up the phone every time it rang. Even if she tried to call, Brandon doubted Grandfather would let him talk.

  What if she couldn’t ever get through to him? What if he never saw her again? The stinging in his eyes grew worse and he pressed his palms against them….

  “How’s the homework going?”

  Brandon dropped his hands and blinked rapidly before turning to see his grandfather in the doorway. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well, when you finish, maybe you and I can take in a movie. Would you like that?”

  Brandon didn’t want to see a movie. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to sit by the phone and wait for Lauren to call, but after the argument he’d seen last night, he didn’t dare tell his grandfather that. Grandfather was acting weird. He was talking loud and cheery, although it was pretty easy to tell he didn’t feel very happy. It was all so confusing.

  “I guess,” Brandon said because he was afraid to say no.

  “Great. I’ll go check the paper for movie listings. After the movie, we’ll pick up your grandma at the airport. She’ll be excited to see you.”

  Brandon nodded, wishing he was more excited to see her. He loved his grandmother. She made delicious fresh-squeezed lemonade and bought him lots of new school clothes—but she wasn’t Lauren.

  “Grandfather?” Brandon said before Quentin could head back down the hall.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think we could take Lauren to the movies with us?” he asked hopefully.

  His grandfather’s smile disappeared. “I don’t think so, Brandon. Not today.”

  “But I really want to see her. Pleeease?”

  “Not today,” he said, more sharply.

  Brandon knew better than to push once that tone entered his grandfather’s voice. But his eyes were stinging again, and he knew he’d be okay if only he could talk to Lauren…. “Can I call her, then? Will you tell me where she is?”

  “I don’t know where she is. Now, get your homework done so we can leave.” He retreated, his heavy footfalls muffled against the carpet, and Brandon turned back to stare at his math book. He’d only done two problems. He had another fifty to go, and that was just one day’s assignment. But when the numbers blurred before him, he shut the book in favor of resting his chin on his hand and gazing out the window again. He was just wishing he’d see Lauren’s car come down the street when the telephone rang.

  Scrambling out from behind his desk, he ran for the extension in the kitchen, hoping to pick it up before his grandfather did. But the ringing stopped as he reached the end of the hall.

  “He got it,” he muttered in dejection and started back, but then he heard his grandfather calling him.

  “Brandon! Scott’s on the phone for you.”

  It wasn’t Lauren. Or his father. Disappointment weighted Brandon’s steps as he made his way across the kitchen, but by the time he picked up the phone, he was as eager as always to speak to his best friend.

  “Hi, Scott.”

  “What ya doin’?”

  “Homework.”

  Brandon heard the click that indicated his grandfather had hung up and felt slightly better. At least some things in his life hadn’t changed. He could still talk to his best friend without his grandfather breathing down his neck.

  “Any chance you can come over to my house?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t think so. I have to finish my homework, then my grandfather’s taking me to a movie.” He tried not to sound so dejected, but Scott picked up on it right away.

  “Did you get into trouble?”

  “No.”

  “Something else wrong?”

  Brandon considered explaining, then decided he didn’t want to talk about it with his grandfather rambling around the house. “No.”

  “That’s good. Then maybe you can get out of going to the movies. Your Aunt Lauren called and said if you can come over to my place, she and your father will come by and give us a ride on his bike.”

  “She did?” Brandon said, dropping the pen he’d been using to doodle on Lauren’s message pad.

  “Yeah.”

  “But she won’t let me ride,” he argued. “She’s afraid of motorcycles.”

  “She must’ve changed her mind. My mom said I could have a ride, too. Isn’t that cool?”

  Brandon smiled, his spirits finally lifting. Harley and Lauren were going to meet him at Scott’s, where Grandfather wouldn’t be around to bother them. That was beyond cool. Maybe the world wasn’t falling apart, after all. Maybe everything was going to work out, just as Lauren had said it would. “That’s awesome,” he said in relief. “I’ll get out of the movie somehow and be over as soon as I can.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  LAUREN WONDERED if the sound of a motorcycle engine would bring her father to the door and, for the first time, lamented the fact that Brandon’s best friend lived right across the street. She knew she was pushing her luck having her nephew meet her and Harley in the same neighborhood, let alone in full view of the Worthington front windows. But her father was accustomed to Scott and his visits, phone calls and invitations. She couldn’t come up with any other way to get Brandon out of the house.

  Her nephew and his friend were waiting on the porch when she and Harley cruised into Hillside Estates and parked in the Torrins’ front drive. Harley glanced across the street as he got off the bike, obviously checking for trouble, but then turned and smiled easily as his son came running toward them.

  “Daddy, Lauren!” Brandon threw his arms around her and then Harley.

  “How are you, honey? You okay?” she asked, careful not to put too much weight on her sore ankle.

  “I’m better now that you two are here,” he said.

  “Scott told us you might not be able to come over, that you were supposed to go to the movies with your grandfather,” Harley said.

  Brandon grimaced. “I just asked him if I could go to Scott’s, instead. He was actually kind of glad to let me go, I think. Then he didn’t have to pretend to be happy anymore.”

  Lauren felt responsible for some of her father’s unhappiness, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. There hadn’t been anything she could do about it last night, either. She couldn’t help having a different opinion.

  “I hope he’ll get over what’s bothering him,” she said. “In any case, your father had better give you your ride before Grandfather sees us. He won’t like the fact that we’re here.”

  Brandon waved a hand at the house. “We don’t have to worry about Grandfather. He’s gone. He went to pick up Grandmother from the airport.”

  Lauren sent a relieved glance at Harley. She hadn’t wanted an angry scene, especially in front of Scott’s parents.

  Harley winked at her. “Relax,” he said. “We’re guests of Scott’s family. We have permission to be here.”

  “It’s such a cool bike, isn’t it?” Brandon said to Scott as they began circling Harley’s motorcycle. “It’s called a Soft-Tail.”

  Scott whistled. “I wish my dad had a bike like this.”

  “So who’s first?” Harley asked.

  Not surprisingly, Brandon volunteered. Lauren smiled as she watched Harley help his son don the helmet. Then Brandon climbed on and waved at her and Scott, and Harley drove off. She remembered how frightened she’d once been about this exact sight, but it didn’t frighten her anymore. If Harley was willing to give Brandon up to avoid hurting her, he wasn’t going to drive away with him and never come back.

  In the wake of the noise, Scott’s mother came to the door. Like her son, she was tall and thin, with red hair, freckles and hazel eyes. Lauren had always thought her an intelligent, striking woman.

  “Hi, Lauren,” she said. “Is that a wrap on your ankle? What happened?”

  “I sprained it.”

  “Why don’t you come sit down? I heard you pull up, but I wa
s on the phone, or I would’ve come out sooner. Scott told me Brandon’s father is in town. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

  Lauren hobbled to the porch and lowered herself to the steps. “Harley’s a good guy,” she said.

  Elizabeth Torrin raised her eyebrows, but she was polite enough not to question the statement outright, even though she’d probably heard the story of Brandon’s birth through neighborhood gossip. “I was surprised to see your father back from Europe so soon.”

  “He cut his trip short,” Lauren said, her nails instinctively curling into her palms. The fact that she wasn’t supposed to see Brandon made her uncomfortable—made her feel as though she was stealing something—which gave her a great deal more empathy for Harley than she’d ever had before. It was miserable to be barred from associating with a child she felt entitled, by right and relationship, to see.

  “Your mother didn’t come back with him?” Elizabeth asked, joining her on the steps.

  “No, he’s collecting her at the airport right now.”

  She lowered her voice. “Well, I should probably tell you that your father asked me not to let you see Brandon, if you called. But this is my house and my property, and I’m the one who decides who’s welcome here.”

  Lauren blinked in surprise. Evidently her father was willing to go to even greater lengths than she’d expected to stop her from visiting Brandon. “Thank you,” she said. “I should probably explain that there’s been a little family…rift, a difference of opinions, but it should smooth itself out eventually. In the meantime, I really appreciate your letting me see my nephew.”

  “I know how much you love him,” she said. “And I know how much he loves you. We’ve raised our boys together these past ten years.”

  She said something else, probably in the same vein, but the roar of the motorcycle swallowed it as Harley and Brandon returned.

  “Do you mind if Harley gives Scott a ride?” Lauren asked, wanting confirmation even though Scott had already gone charging down the drive, yelling, “It’s my turn!”