Off the Grid for Love

by Rena Koontz

  Mackenna scrunched up her face. “The heels aren’t a problem.”

  “Okay. Once we’re moving, you’ll be able to talk to me through the microphone in the helmet. But tell me your address now so I can plug it into the navigation system.”

  Her eyes widened. She sure as hell didn’t want him to know where she lived, although he remembered her address from the dossier Demond emailed him. An apartment building in a nicer part of town. Maybe she did have a man in her life. But then, why hadn’t she called him for a ride?

  “I don’t want to go home. Is the offer for something to eat still on the table?”

  Finally. His face split into a wide grin. “You bet it is.”

  After strapping on his own helmet he threw his right leg over the bike and settled into the seat. She used his shoulder for balance and eased into place behind him. He instructed her to lean with the bike as they turned a corner, even though she might feel like she was falling off. He assured her she wouldn’t.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way but you should wrap your arms around my waist and hold tight until you feel comfortable.”

  All he heard was her breath in his earpiece. And then her arms went around his middle and her thighs encompassed his butt and hips in a nest of warmth. It was a sample of heaven. Would she notice if they rode like that for the next two days?

  Or forever?

  ~ ~ ~

  He knew just the spot. A bar he’d discovered that wasn’t too rowdy and catered to the more genteel rider, like himself, rather than the Hell’s Angels type. Although some of the friends he’d made there might certainly be members of that group. He never asked. Plus the food was good, dancers were encouraged to strut their stuff, and a live band played every night after nine. He might not be able to keep Mackenna there that long, but he’d give it a shot. A night of dancing and laughing might do her good. And he wanted as much time with her as he could steal.

  She tensed when he made a left turn out of the parking lot, squeezing her arms tight to his side and pressing against his back, and a second time when he went right at the intersection. But in no time at all, she relaxed behind him, even though she kept a tight grasp around his waist. “What do you think?”

  His words startled her and her breasts poked into his shoulder blades, prompting him to smile.

  “You were right. This is exhilarating.”

  “Maybe we can take a long ride in the country some time. It’s much better to smell fresh grass than exhaust fumes.” When she remained silent, he added, “No strings attached.”

  That made her chuckle. “Maybe.”

  He eased the Harley into a parking spot at the end of the crowded lot. After shutting down the engine he waited for her to slide off and then he dropped the kickstand. She shook out her shoulder-length brown hair and straightened her clothes. “I feel windblown.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “How can you tell? It’s dark.”

  He laughed. She seemed more comfortable with him now. He gently placed his hand on her waist as they walked through the parking lot. “I’m pretty sure the ladies’ room has hair products and stuff that you can use to smooth everything back into place.”

  This time, she laughed. “How would you know what’s in the ladies’ room? No, wait, I already suspect you’re a rogue so don’t tell me anything that will confirm it.”

  A couple came out the door as he attempted to look shocked and he held it for Mackenna to enter. She took three steps inside and stopped, glancing around the bar. Country music played from speakers in all four corners and everywhere, groups and couples talked and laughed. Jake grabbed her left hand.

  “C’mon. It’s slightly quieter on the patio. You don’t mind sitting outside, do you?” He didn’t wait for an answer and instead, forged a path through the crowd toward the back of the room with her in tow. The waitress recognized him and motioned toward an empty table just outside the door.

  He slid a chair out for Mackenna as the waitress wiped the surface clean and handed them each a menu. “The usual, Jake honey?”

  “Sure, Evelyn. Give my friend a minute to decide, okay?”

  “Be right back.”

  Mackenna eyed him. “What’s the usual, honey?” Her voice had a teasing lilt in it. He liked how it made him feel. Giddy. “Let me guess. A cold beer in a frosted mug.”

  Jake settled into the chair to her right, his back to the building. “That sounds wonderful but I never drink when I’m on the bike. Feel free to order one though, if you like.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a very good drinker. I think I’m missing the alcohol tolerance gene. I get drunk too easily and do really stupid things.”

  He suppressed a grin. “What’s your cut-off limit?”

  “Why?”

  In his mind it was an innocent question but she was suspicious of everything. He inhaled deeply and shook his head slowly. “I think you’re missing the trust gene, too, sugar. I only asked so I know when to cut you off. Do I bring out the worst in you or are you this guarded with everybody?”

  Her mouth dropped into a tiny circle and his eyes were drawn to her lips. The memory of the department store kiss whet his appetite for more.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just”—she shrugged—“I don’t know. I’m in a bad emotional spot right now and I have a low opinion of all men. My limit is two drinks. After that, I’m toast.”

  The waitress returned and set a tall, ice-filled glass in front of him. She cracked her gum and asked, “What’s for you, honey?”

  Mackenna studied Jake’s glass. “What are you drinking?”

  “I’m a ’Bama boy, Kenna. It’s sweet tea.”

  “I’ll have the same, please. What’s good here, Jake?”

  Me, honey. Can’t you see that?

  He recommended his favorite black-and-bleu burger with seasoned fries. While she studied the menu he checked out the crowd, nodding at a few familiar faces and taking note of the people standing around the bar and clustered near the door.

  “Are you looking for someone in particular?”

  He hadn’t realized Mackenna studied him. “No, not at all. Just looking around.”

  “Hoping you don’t run into your girlfriend when you’re with another woman?” Her voice teased him but the look on her face was serious.

  “No, ma’am, that’s not a concern at all. It’s always good to familiarize yourself with the surroundings, you know, where the exits are, what parts of the room might be more crowded, in case there’s an emergency and you need to get out quick.”

  “Aren’t you already familiar with this place? I thought you were a regular here.”

  He nodded and searched for a change of subject. “It’s a habit I have. So tell me, how’d you like your first motorcycle ride.”

  A smile brightened her face and she conceded she’d enjoyed it. As they made small talk about different topics, her shoulders dropped. She sat back in the chair and stopped folding and refolding her napkin, all positive body language indicators that she was beginning to feel more at ease with him. Until her phone rang and she spied the identification of the caller. Immediately, her torso locked up tighter than her bank vault.

  “Would you like me to step away?”

  She grabbed his forearm. “No. Please stay.”

  It was the boss again. Jake couldn’t hear what he said but he didn’t allow Kenna much time to answer. She stuttered a few no’s and yeses and with each one, the hold on his arm tightened. Finally, Jake couldn’t keep quiet.

  He waved his hand in front of her face and whispered, “What’s he want?”

  “Hang on a minute, Ted, the waitress is asking me a question.” She covered the phone with her hand and moved it beneath the table. Her teeth clattered like a set of castanets.

 
“He wants to know what time I’ll be home. He wants to meet me there.”

  The bastard. “Tell him you’re spending the night with a friend.”

  Tears rimmed her eyes. “But I have nowhere to go. And he’s going to ask. He’ll check, I know he will.”

  That didn’t jive. What about her friend from the bank, the one who handed her money the day after the first robbery? Why couldn’t she go there?

  “What about family? Or girlfriends you can call?”

  Water welled in her eyes. “No family close by. And, to be honest, I haven’t been a very good friend to most of my friends. It’s a long story.”

  Warning bells sounded in his head as words passed through his lips that surprised even him. “You can spend the night on my sofa. It’s quite comfortable. I fall asleep on it most every night.”

  She caught her breath. “I can’t spend the night with you, I don’t even know you. I’m not sleeping with you.”

  He canted his head. “I didn’t invite you into my bed, Kenna. If you prefer, I’ll take you to a motel.”

  “I can’t afford a motel.”

  “Well, from where I sit, you can’t afford to go home either unless you want to screw your boss because we both know that’s what he’s after.” He slid his hand under the table into her lap and pried the phone from her grasp.

  “Hey, Ted, is it? Jake Manettia here. Kenna’s staying with me tonight. I’ll see that she’s at work on time tomorrow morning. Thanks for checking on her, man, but I got this.” He ended the call and returned the phone to her. “Problem solved.”

  Her jaw sagged and her hand flew to her mouth. “Are you crazy? What’d he say?”

  “I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. If he gives you a hard time tomorrow, please call me. I’ll come to the bank and have a talk with him.”

  “You’re going to get me fired, Jake, and then I’ll truly be screwed.”

  The waitress arrived and when Kenna ordered her burger without a bun and substituted the fries for coleslaw, he made a mental note. His younger sister suffered from Celiac’s disease, a gluten intolerance, so he was quite familiar with the diet. Kenna must also be sensitive. Good to know the next time he took her out. Because he definitely wanted a next time.

  Chapter 9

  “How long have you worked at the bank?” Jake waited to ask until the waitress left. “Don’t you have seniority or protection from being arbitrarily dismissed?”

  “Theoretically, yes. But don’t forget I’m a bank teller who has been held up twice and who the FBI is suspicious of. I doubt seniority would factor into something like that. But even without that, it’d be so easy to fabricate a case against me. Mr. Gleaner could fudge my end-of-the-day numbers and make it look like my drawer was short. Or he could say he received complaints about my demeanor or my attitude. If he wanted, he could fire me within a week.”

  “Is he the reason you detest the entire male population?”

  She laughed. “One of them. But . . .” She cast her gaze away from his inquiring eyes, found nothing else to focus on, and raised her chin as she looked straight at him again. “You might as well know the whole sad saga that has become my life. I told you the other day that I threw my boyfriend out. Arthur and I lived together for a year. I thought he was my king.” She regarded Jake with a half-smile. “That’s a reference to Camelot. You probably don’t know that.”

  A challenge. He loved it. “Knights of the Round Table. King Arthur. A Broadway play and a movie starring Richard Harris, I believe. Also used to refer to the presidency of the late John F. Kennedy. I’m pretty sure it only rains in Camelot after sundown.”

  A smile exploded across her face and the light in her eyes ignited a spark in his heart. Suddenly the stress of the past days evaporated and he saw more teeth in that grin than he’d seen since he met her.

  She bowed her head in tribute. “You surprise me, sir.”

  Wouldn’t be the only time, he hoped. He returned her grin.

  “Well, my King Arthur turned out to be king creep. A liar and a cheat. It took me a while to admit it because, well, quite frankly I let my pride dictate my life. That was a mistake I’ll never make again.”

  Jake studied her as she spoke, still assessing her body language. Her control remained steadfast. “I’m sorry.”

  A deep breath as she resigned herself to the facts. “Don’t be. Any feelings I had for him, or thought I had, are long gone. Mentally and emotionally I’m fine, even happy to be out of that relationship. I was totally prepared to move on.

  “What I wasn’t prepared for was Arthur’s parting stab in the back. I ordered him to move out because it was my apartment to begin with. The day that I was robbed the first time was the day he was supposed to remove all of his belongings. I was scheduled for a longer day because the bank was participating in the town’s community celebration and staying open until seven. I figured that allowed him plenty of time to get in and get out without my seeing him. That’s why I was hanging around the mall instead of going home after the bank closed. I was giving him time to take everything out.

  “Only the joke was on me because that’s exactly what he did. He took everything from my apartment, right down to the light bulbs. He left me a lumpy futon and a nasty note. He also wiped out my bank accounts, closed my credit cards and changed all my logins and passwords on everything: utilities, phone, you name it. I figure I have about sixty days to recoup before I’m evicted and once this month’s bills aren’t paid, my credit will start to tank. I’m one of those people who lives beyond their means. It was easy to do with his paycheck supplementing my whims.”

  She spread her hands to indicate their dinner plates. “The list of creditors will be long so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait in line for repayment of this meal and my car repairs.”

  “Jesus, Kenna, did you call the police? Do you know where he went? That’s theft. He committed a crime.”

  “Yep, that’s my luck. Robbed twice in one day. I didn’t call the police because I don’t know where he went. And I can’t prove anything. My bank account was emptied from my computer using my identity so it looks like I did it.”

  “You should still get a report on file. You know his contact information.”

  She shook her head. “I tried calling him but the cell phone number is no longer in service.”

  He nodded. Victims usually possessed more personal knowledge about someone than they realized. “You know more than you think, honey. I assume you know his birth date, maybe even his Social Security number. You know the type of car he drives, possibly the license number. You know where he works, where he takes his dry cleaning, where he likes to shop, what organizations he belongs to, who his insurance carrier is. All that is valuable information the police could use to locate him.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her fork dangling in the air. “You’re some kind of cop, right?”

  “Who? Me?”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said in the coffee shop when I asked what you did. You said security. What exactly do you do because you sure seem to sit on the right side of the law.”

  Tread carefully, Manettia. “Maybe it’s just that I know right from wrong. And what Arthur did is wrong, not to mention illegal.”

  Now she tilted her head, closed one eye halfway, and studied him. “Come to think of it, you told Mr. Gleaner on the phone that your name is Jake Manettia but when we were in the grocery store, that’s not the name your friend Vincent used. He called you something different, didn’t he?”

  Dammit. Ted’s attempted manipulation of Kenna had him so worked up, he’d identified himself on the phone using his real name, instead of his undercover name. He should have heeded his boss’s advice and stayed away from her.

  “Vinny never gets his facts straight. I don’t recall what name he used. And you’re try
ing to change the subject. You should call the police and file a report. And while you’re being assertive, you should let Old Boss Man Gleaner know you aren’t going to stand for his harassment.”

  She propped her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her hand. “Tell the police and tell Mr. Gleaner. And what should I tell you, Mr. Mystery Man?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Mackenna felt a surge of satisfaction. The question had surprised Jake and he dropped back into his chair. Good. Jake the Jerk was a little too confident for his own good. Although after having her arms around him on the motorcycle and now sharing dinner, he was hardly a jerk. Rather attractive and she liked his wit. Lots of muscles were concealed beneath his clothes. She’d felt them while pressed against him on the bike. A flat, firm stomach and taut back muscles that flexed with his movements. The proximity of their bodies coupled with the vibration from the motorcycle ride had been rather stimulating. After he suggested it, she’d imagined them taking that ride in the country on a sunny afternoon, stopping for a picnic lunch in a grassy pasture, and tasting each other on the blanket for dessert. It’d been too long since she’d been loved, truly adored. Arthur had been disappointing in the affection arena and rather bland between the sheets, like she was fragile glass that he feared would break. And so he hardly touched her. And if she were honest with herself, he’d only used her, never really loved her.

  Contact with Jake had been minimal yet she’d welcomed his hold on her elbow and his hand riding her hip, easily gliding her through the mall. Being physically near him was rather pleasant. Jake, in his black leather with thighs strong enough to balance a Harley and a rider, might be a bad boy but he sparked a fire in her belly. She’d always been a good girl. Maybe it was time to cross over to naughty. She smiled at her thoughts while his royal blue eyes studied her.