Riding to Sunset

by Jaci Burton

  “James Waymire.”

  Louise pulled her gaze away from the case only long enough to cast a gleaming smile at Elena. “Stunning.”

  “I thought so, too. He brought them in over the weekend and I bought several pieces. You also need to see the new glass sculpture Triana did. I have it back here when you’re ready.”

  Louise went over several of the necklaces that Elena pulled out of the case, finally settling on the coral that had caught her eye at first. Then Elena made her some tea and the two of them sat at the back of the shop and admired Triana’s five-foot-wide blue glass sculpture of a jumping dolphin. Elena had set it up on one of the side windows where the light could show it off to its full effect.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Louise said. “And if I came home with a piece like that, Leo would kill me.”

  “But you won’t be bringing it home. I’ll have someone deliver it to you.” Elena winked, and Louise let out one of her bawdy laughs.

  After Louise left, Elena was busy with other clients. The morning passed in a blur of activity, just the way she liked it. When Marco came in to relieve her, she had just enough time to run out and grab a bite to eat. She headed upstairs to her apartment over the store, kicked off her shoes and fixed a sandwich, then stepped outside and ate on the balcony so she could enjoy the beach view.

  She’d worked hard to open this store, had gone to school, scrimped and saved every penny she owned working three jobs in order to come up with the money to rent the gallery. And she still hadn’t had enough, until her mother—her mother of all people—had handed her an envelope with the cash to not only rent the property but buy the building outright.

  She’d been stunned. Her mother was as flighty and undependable as they came and, as far as Elena knew, rarely held a job for more than a month. Where she got the money, Elena didn’t even want to know. She’d tried to give it back, but her mother had said it was a gift and gifts weren’t to be returned. Elena had hoped her mother hadn’t done a drug deal or robbed a bank.

  She’d still like to know where that money had come from. Her mom eschewed money and property, only had enough to get by and often had to mooch off Elena, causing her to dip into her own meager savings.

  She took a bite of her sandwich and focused on the calming waters of the ocean, the cloud-free sky, the screams of laughter from children playing in the sand at the water’s edge. Anything but the enigma that was her mother.

  She heard the low throaty rumble of a motorcycle as it roared down the street, tearing into her idyllic rest. She followed the sound as it grew louder and pulled to a stop in front of her shop.

  Oh, yum. Hot guy on a Harley. Now that was almost as good a sight as her ocean. Baggy jeans, sleeveless muscle shirt, and the muscles to show off in it, he was tall, with black hair and a strong chin she could see from all the way on the second floor. Mirrored sunglasses gave him a bad boy look that should have turned her off—she never went for guys like him. Yet she couldn’t deny wanting a closer look.

  He shoved off the kickstand with the heel of his boot and climbed off the bike, slid the keys into his pocket and headed inside her shop.

  Huh. She didn’t get too many bikers in her shop. It wasn’t typically their style.

  She looked down at her watch. Technically she had a half hour left to her lunch hour.

  Then again, she did have inventory coming up at the end of the month, so no sense wasting time when there was so much work to be done. Besides, Marco might be overwhelmed with clients.

  Right. And that happy button between her legs hadn’t been touched in far too long, so the sight of testosterone on a Harley just might have gotten her motor running, which surprised the hell out of her. She much preferred men who were more refined—the suit-wearing Wall Street Journal type—not the grease-under-their-fingernails type.

  But she had a need to get a closer look. Men who looked like that guy could be considered art, and art was her job, so why not?

  She did a quick brushing of her teeth, smoothed her hair and her dress, slid her heels back on and headed back downstairs, through the back door and into the shop.

  Mr. Good Looking was in the shop, sunglasses tucked into the neck of his shirt. Marco was currently leaning next to him, showing him the metal sculptures.

  Hot and Sexy looked up at her as she walked through the gallery. His lips curved upward in a hint of a smile that made her fully aware of herself as a woman. She hadn’t felt that kind of draw toward a man in a very long time.

  Marco could handle this customer, but since the place was currently empty, no reason not to be polite, especially since he’d smiled at her and all. She headed over.

  “Marco.”

  Marco’s head shot up. “Oh, Elena, hi. I was just showing Jed here some of our welded art pieces. Jed, this is Elena Madison. She owns Eclectic Designs.”

  Elena held out her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Elena. Jed Templeton.”

  His hand was calloused. And really big, but gentle in hers. Sometimes big guys liked to prove their masculinity by nearly crushing her hand. Good to know he could power it down.

  “Welcome to my shop, Jed. Are you here for the bike rally?”

  He laughed. “Yes and no. I moved here to start a business, but I see you saw my ride, so yeah, the bike event should be fun.”

  “Oh? What kind of business?”

  “Security.”

  Her brows went up. “That’s interesting.”

  “Hope it’s interesting enough to businesses around here.”

  “Do you have clients yet?”

  “A few. Are you looking for security?”

  “No. We have a system already in place.”

  He nodded. “Good for you.”

  She liked his voice. Deep and gravelly, the kind of voice a woman would like to hear whispered to her in the dark.

  Wow, it had been a long time for her, hadn’t it? “So, Jed, what are you looking for today?”

  “Nothing in particular, but these designs caught my eye. I need to furnish my new place.”

  “Oh, really, where’s your place, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I’m renting one of the new Oceanview condos just across the road. I have the furniture but it needs something more.”

  She smiled. “We can certainly help you with that.”

  The bell jingled over the front door. Marco met her gaze, then shrugged. “I’ll go see to the new customer.”

  Normally she’d never take a prospective sale away from Marco, but this guy intrigued her. If he bought something, she’d give the commission to Marco anyway.

  “Tell me what you’re interested in.”

  His brow popped up and he gave her a flash of a smile.

  “I don’t know. Not much for art, but the place is nothing but white walls. When I rode by, I liked what I saw in the window. And this is interesting.” He motioned to the mermaid made out of metal, rising out of waves and leaning against the rocks.

  “She is stunning and would be an interesting conversation piece. But I have to be honest—she doesn’t come cheap. Perhaps we should discuss your price range first?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  Now it was her turn to raise a brow. Was he really here to buy an art piece, or was he hitting on her? She was picking up all sorts of signals, especially the way he was looking at her with the intensity in his steely eyes.

  She found herself unable to look away.

  “All right then. She sells for three thousand, five hundred.”

  He gave a short nod. “I also like this one. It has a hard edge to it.”

  She turned and smiled, liking his taste as he pointed out some of her favorite pieces. Jed might not have a knowledge of art, but he had a good eye.

  “How long have you owned the gallery?” he asked as they moved to yet
another piece.

  “Four years.”

  “Successful?”

  “I do well enough.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Where are you from, Jed?”

  “Dallas.”

  “And what brings you here to start a business?”

  “I like the beach and the ocean.”

  “There’s a beach and ocean in Texas.”

  He glanced outside, where the clear blue sky met the impossibly cerulean ocean. “Not with water this color and weather like this year round. It’s amazing.”

  “It is, isn’t it? That’s why I wanted my shop here instead of in town. I wanted to spend my days being able to look over the water. I live above the shop, too, so I take whatever breaks I can and go sit on the balcony and watch the waves. It’s the most calming thing.”

  “Better than any tranquilizer, I imagine.”

  “Ocean waves are tranquilizing. They bring a peace you can’t find anywhere else. And after work I can run along the sand, or play in the water.” She realized she’d been staring out at the ocean so she dragged herself back to his face—he’d been watching her. “Sorry. Obviously the ocean and I have a love affair going.”

  His lips lifted. “No, I understand. And I’ll take the mermaid.”

  “Good choice. And welcome to the beach, Jed.”

  “Can you have it delivered? Obviously I can’t strap her to the back of my bike.”

  “Of course. Just give me your address and I’ll have her sent to you at your convenience.”

  They did the paperwork and Elena arranged to have the art sent to Jed’s condo the next day.

  She hadn’t realized how much time they’d spent together until shadows began to fall over the water and the crowds began to thin. She’d tuned everything and everyone out but him.

  “How about dinner tonight?”

  She lifted her head up from the credit card slip she’d shoved into the cash register.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You close soon, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have dinner with me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Seeing someone?”

  “No.”

  “Then have dinner with me. I’d like to get to know you. I liked talking to you, and I don’t really know anyone here. You can tell me all about your city.”

  She had no reason to say no, and every reason to say no. But she didn’t really want to. “All right.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight. You like to ride?”

  She never rode. That was one of her mother’s things, not hers. “I never—”

  He grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll go easy on you. See you at eight.”

  He left, and she finished up work for the day, mostly in a fog. Marco was thrilled to have the commission on the sale.

  “He asked me out,” she mentioned when they were going through receipts.

  “He did not.” Marco’s dark eyes widened. “Tell me you didn’t say no.”

  “I didn’t say no.”

  Marco feigned disbelief. “Why, Miss Elena. I’m shocked. You always say no. Mr. Muscles must have the magic touch. Too bad he’s not gay or I’d have lusted after him myself.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, and Torrance would have kicked your ass all the way to Miami.”

  Marco sighed. “True. But just because I’m in a relationship doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can still look.”

  Marco left when she closed up the shop. She locked up the windows and doors, enabled the alarm system and headed upstairs, changed clothes and put on her tennis shoes to head outside for a run.

  It was a cool night so she threw on a hoodie, stretched and started off easy, relishing the brisk air. She crossed the street to the beach side, enjoying the crowds that had gathered for bike week.

  Motorcycles zoomed by, their engines roaring as she got into the rhythm of her run.

  Her mother was a bike fanatic, had always gotten so excited whenever the bikers came to town. She’d make tie-dyed T-shirts or some kind of jewelry to sell to the bikers, happy to be a part of the throng of incoming tourists. Sometimes she’d hook up with a biker group and go off riding. Elena would worry they’d kidnap her and she’d never be seen again. Her mother told her she worried too much. She told her mother she wasn’t careful enough. It was a common argument.

  She hadn’t seen her mom in a few weeks, was surprised she hadn’t popped into the store. Her mother always managed to show up during bike week. Elena wondered where she was, though tracking her mother down was something she’d long ago given up hope of ever being able to do. Though she had a cell phone, she rarely answered it and often lost it. For a grown woman, she often acted like a child.

  Elena had long ago given up hope of ever changing her mom. Her mother enjoyed her free-spirited lifestyle, the ability to pick up and charge headfirst into whatever new adventure caught her fancy. It was probably why Elena chose to be so grounded in one place, in one career, determined never to live with her head in the clouds.

  Dusk had settled over the ocean, the sun sinking fast over the vast array of hotels to the west. She made a quick turn and headed back to her apartment, took a shower and dried her hair and surveyed her closet, trying to decide what to wear to dinner tonight.

  No dress since she’d be riding a bike. Now there was a departure for her. She was going out with a biker tonight, one of her strict taboos.

  But oh, what a sexy biker he was. And it was just dinner, right? She could deviate from her hard rules for just one night.

  THREE

  Elena Madison was one sexy package of slender curves, tanned, long legs and a perfect face with mesmerizing green eyes all rolled into intelligence, wit, charm and—oh yeah—the most kissable full lips Jed had ever seen.

  And she was hands off because she was General Lee’s niece.

  Didn’t that just suck?

  But he was in, had done the job of getting his foot in the door. Now he just had to stay there. He’d had his eye on her for a full day, watching the shop, monitoring her clientele and how she related to them. She was no nonsense but nice to her clients. She took her lunches on the rooftop of her business, which doubled as her living quarters. Nice digs, too, with a beach overlook.

  The general had set him up right next door at this kick-ass condo with a balcony view directly onto her shop and apartment.

  Considering some of the assignments he’d had with the military and the FBI, this one had definite benefits.

  And now he got to take the hot girl out to dinner?

  Beat the hell out of eating sand or being bored to death by paperwork.

  Except for that whole “hands off” thing. But he’d deal.

  He left the condo, climbed on the bike and rode the short distance to Elena’s shop, curbing the bike on the side street. He went to the side door and rang the bell. She came outside and everything that made him a man tightened.

  Some women instinctively knew how to dress for riding on a Harley.

  Elena wore skinny jeans, a white T-shirt and a short leather jacket along with a pair of leather boots. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and it swung back and forth as they walked toward the bike.

  “What?” she asked as he handed her a helmet.

  “You look hot.”

  Her cheeks stained a blush. “I do not. Did I dress right?”

  “Perfect.” He tightened her chin strap and climbed on the bike. She got on behind him and snugged her thighs against his, wrapping her arms around him.

  Yeah. Perfect fit.

  “Ready?” he asked, slanting her a look over his shoulder.

  “Ready.”

  He started the engine, goosed the throttle and headed out, rolling out past the myriad of hotels on
Atlantic Avenue. He wanted to get them out of the tourist area.

  Bikers were out in force already, and he blended in, weaving in and out with them as they moved along with the flow of traffic. Elena was quiet and he wondered what she thought of all this. She hadn’t moved since they’d taken off. Her legs were still pressed along his, her arms still wrapped around his middle. He reached down to touch her leg and she reacted by squeezing her thighs against his and leaning forward.

  “This is wonderful,” she said.

  He grinned and picked up a little speed once they got past the heavier traffic. He took them out onto Highway 1 and toward Ormond Beach, finally pulling into a seafood grill he’d read about.

  Elena climbed off and took off her helmet, shaking her hair free of her ponytail. “Great choice,” she said as she wound the ponytail holder onto her wrist.

  “How was the ride?”

  “Surprisingly exhilarating.”

  “Surely that wasn’t your first time on a bike.”

  “No, but it’s been a very long time. I’d forgotten how fun it could be.”

  He smoothed a few stray hairs away from her cheek and tucked them behind one ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s go eat.”

  They went inside and got a table right away since he’d made reservations. He ordered water since he was driving. She ordered a glass of white wine.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a glass of wine or a beer?” she asked.

  “Not when I’m riding.”

  “Oh. Good point. Aren’t you the careful driver.”

  “Not always, but with the rally in town there are enough people boozing it up and getting on their bikes. I like to keep a clear head.”

  She tilted her head to the side and took a sip of her wine. “So tell me about yourself, Jed Templeton.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Oh . . . everything.”

  And this was where he’d have to make up a pack of lies. Now all she’d have to do was take the bait. “I was born and raised in Dallas. Pretty middle-class stuff. Average neighborhood. Only child. My dad was an engineer, my mom stayed at home. I went to college at UT, studied business and graduated decently. I tried the whole corporate thing but I was bored, so I went to work for a private investigation company down there. I was always into gym stuff so I liked the physical aspect of the work more than the paperwork side and I became a P.I.”