Moonlight, motorcycles and bad boys

by Hallberg Lynnette

  Rocco’s hoot of laughter followed her from the patio into the house. She stepped inside, met Rhonda’s quizzical gaze, and shook her head imperceptibly. Her shoulders sagged, and the food Reiner had loaded on her plate tasted like sawdust as she perched at the counter, bantering half-heartedly with Auntie Belham and Barnie.

  Beth’s mother stopped by on her way home from an aerobics class. In skin-tight workout clothes and a barely-there cover-up, Sasha ate, flirted outrageously with Reiner, Tim, and even Barnie, then took Beth home with her.

  After they’d eaten and cleaned up, Bel said, “Barnie and I are going to excuse ourselves. We have some catchin’ up to do. It’s been a while since we’ve managed an entire evenin’ alone.” When Barnie’s cheeks blazed pink, Bel grinned like a Cheshire cat.

  “You’re goin’ to have to set limits fast with that one,” Reiner warned him. “She’ll run you to the ground.”

  “Too late.” Barnie laughed and helped Bel with her casserole dishes to the car.

  When they’d gone, Felicity asked for Katie Sara’s help. “I’m having trouble with the program. I can’t figure out what order to put everybody in. You know, so the time works out and everything.”

  “Don’t forget to factor in the time you need for set changes,” Katie Sara warned.

  “Oh, jeez. I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Yes, you can. Let’s put all the acts on individual cards, then juggle them around.”

  They sprawled on the living room floor, heads bent over a mass of note cards and papers. By the time they finished, everyone else had gone.

  Putting her hands to the small of her back, Katie Sara straightened just as Reiner checked in on them.

  “Thanks so much.” Felicity threw both arms around her neck. “Uncle Reiner, is it okay if I run over to Beth’s for a while?”

  He leaned against the wall that led into the living room. “Sure. Don’t be late, though.”

  “I won’t.” A quick kiss for him and she flew out the door.

  Katie Sara and Reiner looked at each other in a suddenly quiet, empty house. She’d missed the chance to escape while the getting was good, she realized. A twinge shot up her back, and she bent sideways and stretched.

  “Back hurt?”

  “A little. The set-work got to me. Not used to such big chunks of physical labor, I guess.”

  “You need a good massage.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed derisively. “Don’t I wish.”

  “Let me give you one. I’ve got a professional table downstairs. Though what I’m gonna do with it here in Paradox—”

  “Bet Sasha, your friendly next-door neighbor, would love to help you use it.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “She probably would. Seriously, though. Why don’t I help you with that back?”

  She felt herself redden and hated it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Ace. It’s part of the game. Football, I mean,” he added quickly. “Coach insisted we get them. Nothin’ personal. It’s not like I’m gonna get you naked and…and… Nothin’ like that!” He cocked a brow. “You afraid of me?”

  “No!”

  “Then let’s go downstairs and do it. You’ll feel a whole lot better.”

  Her heart rate accelerated as she read a double meaning into his words.

  “You can leave your panties on—if you want.”

  The look she sent him did all teachers proud.

  “Right. Leave them on and then toss a big old towel from the closet over you. I’ll just do your back.” He leered playfully. “Unless you insist I do your front, of course.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Okaaaay,” he drawled. “Back only.”

  “What about Felicity?”

  “We’ve got a good hour, at least.” He took her hand, led her down a flight of stairs.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew better. But her back really did ache. Darn daisies!

  But in all honesty, imbecile that she was, she wanted this hour with Reiner. God help her, she wanted to feel his hands on her. But she would not make love with him.

  Nor would she tell him about their son today. After the show. She’d wait till they had that under their belt. Once it was finished, there’d be no reason they had to see each other. If Reiner wanted to banish her from his life…God, her heart ached at the thought.

  This talent show was important to Felicity, though, so she’d wait till it was over. Then she’d tell him. Come hell or high water.

  Decision made, she relaxed. Slightly. Ever so slightly.

  At the bottom of the stairs, her mouth dropped open. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “What?”

  “Talk about a toy room.”

  He shrugged. “I wanted a place where I could hang out, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know. I can’t even begin to imagine this kind of indulgence.”

  “I work for it.”

  She noted the defensiveness. “Did I say you didn’t?”

  He grunted.

  One end of the room had been turned into a small movie theater. Another area held a billiard table and a bar, complete with arcade games. The exercise room, partially sectioned off, looked very no-nonsense. Very macho. In fact, the entire basement had the aura of a masculine cave, a man cave, all dark colors, tweeds, leathers, and stainless steel. Not so much as a single feminine touch anywhere.

  And near the exercise machines stood the massage table. Katie Sara felt weak-kneed. Why on Earth had she agreed to this?

  “There’s a bathroom to the right. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got a couple things to do upstairs, then I’ll be back down, okay?”

  “Sure.” She detoured toward his movie collection. Did a double take. “What is this?” She laughed. “You must have every Sandra Bullock film ever made.”

  “Felicity likes her.”

  “Oh.” She headed for the bath.

  He watched her disappear into the sauna area, then beat a hasty retreat upstairs. What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn’t do this! And he should’ve hidden those damn DVDs. If she asked Felicity about them, he was dead meat.

  He hustled to the kitchen for a glass of ice water, figuring it might cool him down. Didn’t help. Maybe he should have a beer…or two. He looked at the clock. God, he couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Sorry as hell he’d suggested it, nothing he could do but barrel-on like a runaway car at this point. That sure described his insides.

  Heading downstairs, he reached the last step and stared across the room. She lay on her stomach, stretched out. Those beautiful long legs. That gorgeous hair.

  “How about I dim these lights a little? It’ll be more relaxing.”

  “Fine.” She turned her head, green eyes spellbinding.

  “I’m gonna use a little oil.”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled the towel down to bare her back, rubbed oil into his hands. Then he just stood there. All that delicious skin. The little mole on her left shoulder. She’d tied up her hair, and her long neck cried to be kissed.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t figure where to put his hands, how to touch her. He’d never felt so clumsy. Not even when he was thirteen and had groped his first feel from Honor Devereaux in the balcony of the old movie house.

  “Reiner?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?” She grabbed the front of the towel and twisted to look at him.

  “I’m fine. Lie down.”

  The instant he touched her, she jumped. “You know what? This is playing with fire. Bad idea.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He swiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “Relax.”

  She gave him an uneasy glance, then lay back down. He started on her tense shoulders, worked his way down the middle of her spine to the small of that perfect back, where another set of dimples winked at him. More sweat popped on his brow, but he kept at it. He kept his word and didn’t make a mo
ve on her even though it about killed him.

  He even managed to massage her calves. Those sweet, sweet legs went on forever, but he stopped just above the knee. Man, this was supposed to be relaxing. For her maybe. Well, he didn’t know how she was feeling, but he couldn’t take any more. He gave her legs and back one quick, final go-over. “There you are. Better?”

  She nodded, not sure she could speak. Not sure if she was happy or disappointed—or insulted—that he’d kept it impersonal. That he’d been able to. Boy, those hands of his were pure magic.

  She wanted them on her body forever. Everywhere. Wanted him to carry her off to his bed.

  Every inch of her body cried out for him.

  Instead, she said, “Thanks, Reiner. I’d better get dressed before Felicity shows up. That could be sticky.”

  ****

  Reiner didn’t think he’d ever get to sleep. After Katie Sara left, he’d watched some old game film. Felicity had come home on time, called downstairs to let him know she was tired and gone to bed.

  He had another beer, then stared at the TV a while longer before moving to his room to toss and turn. Last time he checked, it was almost one o’clock.

  “Uncle Reiner?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Uncle Reiner, wake up.”

  “What?”

  “I need you to wake up. Please!”

  “Felicity?” Reiner blinked and rose on one elbow. Moonlight filtered through his open blinds, silhouetting her standing beside his bed. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” She started to cry.

  “What the—” He threw back the covers, realized he wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers, and pulled his leg back under the sheet. “Felicity…my robe…”

  She grabbed it from the chair and handed it to him. He tossed it on and ran a hand through his hair.

  “What’s wrong, baby doll?”

  “You’ll kill me when I tell you.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  Awake now, he narrowed his eyes. “I doubt that, but let me keep the option open. What have you done?”

  Another sob escaped her. “Beth—” She stopped, blew her nose. “Beth and I…well, we…” She swiped at a tear.

  “Now you’ve got me scared.”

  He reached for the lamp, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

  “Oh, boy.” He put his elbow on his knee, rested his head in his hand. “Felicity, you do know your name means joy, don’t you? That’s not what I’m feelin’ right now.”

  “I know,” she moaned. “It’s not really that bad. I mean, well, Beth and I, we decided to pierce our lips, and we did mine first,” she whimpered. “We didn’t do hers. It hurts.” She sniffled again. “Something’s wrong.”

  “You did what?” He snapped on the bedside lamp and recoiled. “Oh, for—Shit! I thought that belly button ring was bad. This thing’s still oozin’ blood. No way am I goin’ to touch it.”

  He shook his finger in her face. “You have got to stop punchin’ holes in yourself, you hear me? No more! You’re goin’ to look like a piece of Swiss cheese.”

  Her tears started in earnest.

  “Ah, jeez. Don’t cry, pumpkin. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Come on, now. It’s just that—You don’t need all this stuff stickin’ out of you.” He put his thumb under her chin, grimaced at the sight of the stud in her lip. Met her gaze. “You’re beautiful.”

  She threw her arms around his neck, careful not to bump her lip. “I miss them, Reiner. I miss my mom and dad. What if something happens to one of them? Or to both of them? I want Mom and Dad to come home!”

  He held her while she cried her heart out. His smart-mouthed, crazily dressed niece was still just a child who needed and missed her parents. And he was a damn poor substitute.

  He didn’t have a clue what to do about it. But his more immediate problem was the huge hole in her lip and the silver stud sticking through it. When Felicity finally stopped crying, he kissed her forehead and sent her into the bathroom to wash her face. Then he dialed Katie Sara, praying she’d pick up.

  When she answered on the third ring, he asked, “Dru’s not there, is he? Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.”

  She hung up.

  Smooth move, Broderick.

  He called again. She picked up and hung up without answering. He dialed again and again.

  Finally she said, “This is harassment.”

  “Felicity needs you.”

  “You are so low.”

  “No. Really.”

  “A snake couldn’t get any lower than you.”

  “I’m not kiddin’.” He rushed on. “She pierced her lip. That was rotten of me to mention Dru. I’m…I’m sorry. We already had that talk. I’m a terrible, horrible person.”

  Silence.

  “Katie Sara, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you goin’ to stop me?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  He chuckled. “Can you come over?”

  “Did she really pierce her lip?”

  “Yes. It’s bleedin’ and hurtin’ her something fierce.” He lowered his voice. “And she’s really feelin’ low. Missin’ her parents.”

  He sighed. “I think that’s what this is all about. She had a good cry tonight.” His voice rose. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Felicity stood in the hallway.

  “Ms. McMichaels. She’s goin’ to come over and take a look at your lip. Make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Cool move, Broderick,” Katie Sara murmured.

  “Whatever it takes, sweet cheeks. Ten minutes?”

  “About.”

  ****

  When she got there, Felicity was in her room, an ice pack on her lip.

  “Hey, nice room.” Chartreuse walls, white twin four-posters, and bright yellow dressers and nightstands danced with hot-pink-striped coverlets, blue-plaid dust ruffles and yellow and chartreuse pillows. Somehow, all very Felicity, it worked.

  “You think?” the girl asked.

  Katie Sara nodded.

  “I can’t understand why she doesn’t have nightmares in here,” Reiner said, “but I turned her loose with the decorator. Told the woman to do whatever this little darlin’ wanted. And this is what they came up with.”

  He eyed the stud in her lip, shivered, and moved across the room to sit at a neon yellow desk. Uneasy, he’d barely landed when he jumped up again, prowling the room’s perimeter.

  “Color’s good for the soul,” Katie Sara insisted.

  “That’s the kind of thing adults say when they want kids to like them…or forget their lip hurts,” Felicity lisped around her now-swollen lip. When Katie Sara opened her mouth to protest, Felicity said, “Answer just one question, then I’ll rest my case.”

  Reiner, who’d been pacing restlessly, leaned against the doorjamb now, arms folded, obviously interested in how this would play out.

  Katie Sara narrowed her eyes, figuring the angles. Finally she said, “Okay. One question.”

  “You have to answer truthfully.”

  “Of course, I will.” She squirmed inwardly, unwilling to look at Reiner.

  “What color’s your sofa?”

  “My sofa?” That was the last question she’d expected.

  “Yeah.” Felicity crossed her arms, mimicking Reiner. A smug smile flitted across her face to be replaced by a grimace as the tug hurt her lip.

  A cocky grin lit Katie Sara’s own. “Red leather.”

  “No way!” Her head swiveled to her uncle, then back to Katie Sara. “No way!”

  “Way!” Katie Sara insisted.

  “Red leather?”

  “Bright red leather. Now, let’s remove that stud and clean the wound. Should be just about enough time for that hole to heal before your parents get back, young lady.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Reiner slink out of the room. Gently, she removed the stud and dropped it in
Felicity’s hand. “Don’t put it back in.”

  “I won’t.”

  While Katie Sara disinfected the wound and dabbed antiseptic cream on it, they talked about Felicity’s parents. Reiner was right. She missed them. Katie Sara shared a few of her own stories about Felicity’s dad, and the memories seemed to help draw him closer to the girl.

  When the doctoring was done, Felicity crawled into bed. Katie Sara tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

  “See you tomorrow, Ms. McMichaels.” She yawned.

  “Yes. And I think, Felicity, when we’re not at school, it’s okay for you to call me Katie Sara.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Good night.” She flipped off the light and closed the door behind her.

  Sprawled on the living room sofa channel surfing, Reiner flicked off the TV when she entered the room.

  “So. Our little Goth princess is okay?”

  “Yes. She’ll be fine. My guess is she’s already asleep.”

  “Leaving two very wide-awake adults alone in the dead of night. I can think of a thing or two we could do to pass the time, Ace.”

  “I need to go home. I have to get up early for work.”

  “Christ, you used to be fun.”

  “Yes, and I used to be seventeen and a virgin, too. I’m neither of those, now, am I?”

  He winced.

  “Katie Sara—”

  “Good night, Reiner.”

  The door clicked shut behind her.

  “Good night, my ass. It’s a nightmare!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sunglasses in place, eyes shut, Reiner laid his head back against his car seat and ruminated about life. Jeesh! Danged if he even recognized his right now. He’d swear somebody’d snatched the controls away from him.

  If anybody’d told him two months ago he’d be shuttling a teenager dressed in Goth black and sporting red and purple hair back and forth to school, spend the morning shut up in an office writing, then bang away on sets all afternoon for an amateur talent show to raise money for senior citizens…and be in bed by ten o’clock every night…alone…he’d have told them to take a hike!

  Craziest damn thing, though, he was happier than he’d been in a long, long time. Go figure. The ’Vette’s top down, the sun warming him, an old Bon Jovi CD playing, he drifted off.