by Hayes, Lane
“Okay, I won’t.” Levi threw his hands up in mock surrender then grinned mischievously. “Urban cowboy, eh?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Well, whose helmet was that?”
“Mine. It’s just…not a Harley.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a little embarrassing.” Levi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
“How? I don’t get it. Are you accident-prone? Do you need a helmet for walking through busy intersections or stepping off curbs?”
Levi chuckled then gave me a funny look I couldn’t read. “Nope, I—come on. I’ll show you.”
I followed him outside and spotted Wes leaning against his car with his phone glued to his ear. I shot a puzzled look at my friend before moving toward Levi, posing with his arms stretched wide in front of a—
I gasped then covered my mouth and just stared because…wow. It wasn’t every day a six-foot-two hunk of a man led you to his bubblegum-pink Vespa.
“Is this yours?” I asked reverently.
Levi shook his head. “No, it’s my sister’s. She asked me to store it for her while she’s out of the country and take it out for an occasional spin around the block. She left me her helmet, but I couldn’t do pink on pink, so I bought the black striped one and…what do you think?”
“She has a pink helmet too? I think your sister might be my long, lost twin. This is positively enchanting!” I gushed, running my hands along the side of the scooter.
I pushed my bag over my shoulder then gripped the handlebars and examined the digital screen and dual rearview mirrors.
“Enchanting? Ha. Wanna take a seat?” Levi opened his arm in invitation like Vanna White and chuckled when I nodded profusely.
I couldn’t decide what was cuter, the indulgent crinkles at the corner of his eyes or this glorious, vintage light-pink Vespa. Together they were a magical combination. There was something undeniably charming about the man, the scooter, and the element of surprise. I hiked the fabric up on my black pants then straddled the bike and flashed him a shit-eating grin.
“I’m going for badass bitch here, and I won’t settle for anything less. How do I look?” I lifted my brows suggestively.
“Like a badass bitch,” Levi confirmed, throwing his head back with a laugh.
“Hey, this is very…pink,” Wes commented with a half laugh as he joined us. “You used to have one like this, didn’t you, Geord?”
“Delilah. She was grand,” I sighed wistfully. “What’s this one called?”
“Make something up. Geordie has a thing about names,” Wes advised when Levi hesitated. “Or think about it and get back to him. We should probably go, Geord.”
I nodded but didn’t move off the scooter. “Right.”
“Why don’t you let me take you home? I happen to have an extra helmet if you’re interested in taking a spin.”
“I am.” I beamed at Levi then turned to Wes. “I’ll see you later, darling.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Wes squeezed my shoulder absently and stepped backward. “Bye, Birdie. See ya, Levi. We’ll talk next week.”
“Sounds good.” Levi shook Wes’s hand and waited until he was out of earshot to ask, “Birdie?”
“It’s an old nickname. Not important,” I replied dismissively. “I want to know all about you and why you kept this delicious secret.”
Levi huffed. “My sister’s scooter isn’t exactly a secret, but it’s also not something I advertise. Most people I know aren’t impressed by pink Vespas.”
I wrinkled my brow and gave him a forlorn once-over. “You poor, sad man. You obviously need new friends. Like me. Perhaps I’m easy, but this is a thing of beauty. I had one just like her years ago. I bought Delilah used and when I say she was vintage, I’m not exaggerating in the slightest. She was slow and had a difficult time getting up hills. But we were positively brilliant together! She was classy and chic, and she insisted I bring my A game. Thigh-high rhinestone-studded boots, Pucci prints, and a scarf around my neck. God, I was fabulous.”
“You still seem pretty fabulous to me,” Levi singsonged.
“I’d like to think so, but I’m afraid it’s different now. Less obvious. My fabulous is only beautiful in certain light, if you know what I mean.”
Levi shook his head. “No, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re stunning.”
I looked down at the odometer to hide a blush he certainly couldn’t see in the dusk. “Thank you.”
“Hmm. You know, I’ve actually never said this to anyone before, man or woman…but you may honestly be the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.”
A warm glow flooded me from the inside out. I couldn’t help preening with pleasure. “Thank you, but—”
“Don’t thank me. I’m serious. Your hair, your eyes, your hands. You could do one of those dish soap commercials for Palmolive or Ivory. You’d be a natural hand model,” he said earnestly.
I glared at him. “You’re dead to me.”
Levi threw his head back and laughed. “I was joking. I had to say something to stop piling on the compliments or you’d think…never mind.”
“No, no. Do tell. What would I think?”
“Well, you might think I like you.”
“I don’t want you to like me. Not really,” I said softly.
“What if I told you it’s too late?”
A light breeze tousled Levi’s hair. My fingers itched to brush it off his forehead. I stared at his mouth for a moment then looked away with a sigh.
“I can’t do this, Levi. What happened last week can’t happen again,” I said solemnly. “I asked Wes to give me a few minutes, so I could apologize. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Levi furrowed his brow. “I think we kissed each other and either way, it was pretty fuckin’ hot.”
“True, but I’m an unresolved mess, and I’m afraid it’s a lifetime sentence so—”
“You’re talking in circles again. What are you saying?”
I could tell he wanted to lighten the mood I’d created and as much as I wanted to crack a joke and move on, I had to explain. “I’m in mourning.”
Levi sobered immediately and nodded. “I heard. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” I looked away, scouring the area for a point of interest. But twilight was descending rapidly, sending long shadows across the deserted parking lot. I came up blank and decided that was probably my cue to exit. “Will you take me home now?”
“I have a better idea. Let’s go for a ride. I promise I’ll take you back whenever you say but…just give me an hour.”
His intensity gave me pause, but that devilish spark in his gaze was difficult to deny. I smiled and tilted my head.
“All right. But I call the pink helmet.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 5
If anyone had predicted that my Saturday evening would feature me riding shotgun on Levi Yeager’s bubblegum-pink scooter, I wouldn’t have believed them. But fifteen minutes later, I kissed the top of my borrowed pink helmet for luck, secured the strap, and straddled the seat. I was ridiculously excited to rev the engine to life and zip through the streets of downtown Napa. I could imagine I was Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday or—
“Uh no. I’m driving,” Levi declared decisively as he zipped his leather jacket. “Hop off.”
I frowned. “I thought you were going to let me drive.”
“No way. You just told me you haven’t been on one of these in years.”
“It’s a glorified bicycle, Levi. Once you learn how, you never forget.”
He hooked his thumb and motioned for me to get moving. “I’m sure, but it’s almost dark now, and you’d need a few practice runs around the parking lot to familiarize yourself with how it handles.”
“She,” I corrected.
“How do you know this is a she?”
“It’s a navigation thing. They call ships and boats
‘she,’ so it makes sense that all moving vessels are ‘she.’ And…her energy is female powerful. Don’t ask how I know. I simply do.”
Levi shook his head in bewilderment. “I’m not going to touch that.”
“Wise.”
“But I’m also not letting you drive. You don’t have a license to operate a motorcycle. Or do you?”
“I did. Unfortunately, it’s expired.” I sighed dejectedly and slid off the bike. “It’s rather butch that I had a motorcycle license at all though, isn’t it?”
Levi snorted a half laugh then inclined his head in acquiescence. “Super butch. Just keep your man bag out of the way so it doesn’t nudge my back. Let’s do this.”
He hopped on the Vespa then scooted forward to give me room to climb on. I slipped my cat-eyed sunglasses on my nose, then snaked my arms around his waist, and gave him a thumbs-up sign.
And we were on our way.
Buzzing around town with my arms and legs wrapped around a sexy man who didn’t seem fazed by the color of his ride or the excessive enthusiasm of his passenger added a whole new dimension to my renewed experience. I pushed my glasses down my nose, so I wouldn’t miss a thing. Yes, I knew it was silly to wear sunglasses at night, but these were a particularly fun and glamorous pair, and this felt like the perfect occasion.
Everything about being plastered to Levi’s back with the hum of an engine underneath us was thrilling. It was a sensory feast allowing me to see familiar sights in a new way with a new friend. I reveled in my perspective of my adopted town from the back of the bike. The neon lights from my favorite shops and cafes blended well with the smell of his cologne and the feel of his muscular thighs against mine. And the twenty-minute cruise around the square and the outlying streets felt extraordinarily special in a way I couldn’t explain. I only knew we were creating a memory. And when he pulled into a parking space in front of my favorite Italian bistro, I had to curb my impulse to flatten my cheek against his shoulder and hug him in a show of gratitude.
I hopped off the Vespa and then spun around in the middle of the sidewalk with my arms open wide. “Oh, that was marvelous!”
Levi let out an “Oomph!” when my bag smacked him in the stomach. “Damn, what’s in that thing?”
“Everything. You name it—I’ve got it. Why did you stop? Did you change your mind about letting me drive?”
“No, but…are you hungry? There’s an Italian place on the corner with a great menu. I was hoping to lure you there to check out the font.”
I tried to tame my smile before it took over my face, but I quickly lost the battle. I flashed a grin at him and shook my head in mock censure. “It’s all about the font, isn’t it?”
“What can I say? I’m shallow like that.” Levi shrugged then unbuckled his helmet and gestured for me to do the same. I obeyed, absently watching his fingers fly as he threaded a lock through the safety gear and attached it to the scooter.
“Well, you’ve caught me in a weak moment. I’m famished, darling. Antonio’s pastas are divine. And the pizza is—”
Levi grabbed my elbow and stepped in front of me. “Hang on, Geord. Your glasses are crooked.”
He painstakingly straightened my frames then lowered them to stare into my eyes. I held his gaze for a long moment, wondering if he was going to kiss me again. I hoped he would, even though I’d told him not to less than thirty minutes ago. What the hell was wrong with me? I was never this wishy-washy. I wanted him to take over at the same time I wanted him to leave me alone. He was a dangerous combination of sexy and silly, and his odd persistence wore me down because the truth was…I loved the way he looked at me. He stirred something in me I hadn’t felt in forever.
I stepped backward and pulled my sunglasses off; then I slipped them inside my bag and tilted my chin. “Shall we?”
We scored a table for two tucked in the corner near the picture window overlooking the street. Last-minute seating in popular restaurants on a Saturday evening was one of the perks of being a long-term resident and business owner in the community. I thanked Antonio’s nephew, Saul, for accommodating us with such short notice and introduced him to Levi before placing my cocktail order. He took Levi’s order too then left us with menus and promised that our server would be by with our drinks shortly.
Levi picked up his menu and made a funny sound. “Limoncello? I’m surprised you didn’t order wine.”
“I sip wine all day. It’s nice to try something different. Limoncello tastes like starbursts and sunlight and summertime.”
“It’s winter,” he deadpanned.
“That makes it even better,” I replied with a half laugh. “Besides, it’s almost spring.”
“True. And spring just happens to be my favorite season.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons…longer days, warmer weather, beginnings, and baseball,” he replied as a waiter approached with our drinks. Levi waited for the young man to retreat before raising his beer in a toast.
I tapped my glass to his and smiled. “I’ll drink to everything but baseball.”
“Okay…to beginnings.”
I nodded then sipped my limoncello as I clandestinely observed my handsome companion. “You’re a slippery one, Mr. Yeager. Full of surprises. Tell me all about you.”
“We’ve already been through all that. I’m thirty-seven, single, a Pisces; I have one sibling…a younger half sister. I love sports, especially baseball. And I’m a sucker for a challenge, which is why I’m here opening a business I know next to nothing about in a town I haven’t visited in twenty-five years,” he said with a laugh. “Why are you here?”
“I can’t resist a pink Vespa.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, setting his hand over mine.
I pulled my hand away and tapped the menu distractedly. “Oh, I do hope you’re hungry. Are you in the mood for pizza or pasta? The sausage pizza is luminous but large. Would you care to share?”
“Hmm. An alliteration, a rhyme, and now you can’t sit still,” Levi said thoughtfully. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“No,” I confirmed.
“You must have a good secret or two. Let me guess…you robbed a bank in LA then hightailed it north to go undercover.”
“Really, Levi? Look at me. I couldn’t go undercover if I tried,” I huffed derisively as the waiter approached.
We ordered more food than two grown men should consume in one sitting and asked to keep a menu in case we wanted to order more. The second the waiter turned around, Levi snatched the oversized thick piece of paper from my fingers and moved it out of my reach.
“I don’t want to talk about fonts yet. Tell me about the bank robbery first. Or…tell me the real story. The one about the fabulous Mexican American kid who joined the circus to be an acrobat but forgot he was afraid of heights,” he suggested with a wry grin.
“And clowns,” I added with a laugh.
“Naturally.” Levi smiled kindly.
I held his gaze for a moment then looked away with a shrug. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
I gave him the death glare he probably expected then grinned reluctantly when he guffawed like a child. “You’re hilarious. We’d better stick to font selection and menu ideas and—”
“I was kidding! Give me another chance.”
“Proceed with caution,” I advised, raising my glass in a mock toast.
“Okay. Let me try to remember what you’ve told me so far. You’re from LA—”
“East Los Angeles. I’m from the hood. I haven’t been to that particular section of town in nearly three decades, so I have no idea if anything has changed, but I assure you it wasn’t glamorous back then. Nothing like the part of Hollywood you visited last week.”
“I actually know LA pretty well. I lived in the Valley for five years before I moved here,” he said.
“Ah. Right. Your coaching days. I bet you were good at it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re enthusiastic and you have a positive, upbeat demeanor. I would think those are important attributes in an educator. Or a coach. Do you miss it?”
“Some days I do. I liked the kids, but it wasn’t something I saw myself doing forever. I got itchy, you know? When I heard about Skillet, it seemed like the stars aligned. Then it got complicated.”
“With your man?” I cocked one brow and gave him a knowing look then thanked our server when he placed a basket of bread on our table.
Levi smiled tightly and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Tell me about the infamous chef.”
“We were talking about you, remember?”
I waved dismissively then leaned forward. “Oh, please. That’s boring. Poor, queer, fabulous Mexican kid gets disowned and kicked out, moves north to gay Mecca, pursues theater, drag and—”
“You were a drag queen?”
“A girl’s gotta make a living,” I replied with a shrug. “I was gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”
“And humble too,” Levi snarked.
“Who’s got time for humble? If you’ve got it, flaunt it. If you don’t, fake it. Life Lessons 101 from a former queen. Live out loud as often as possible. According to Henry David Thoreau, we’re all living lives of quiet desperation. I can’t always shake the desperation, but I refuse to be quiet.”
“Words to live by,” he commented, tapping his glass against mine. “For some reason, I thought you were an actor.”
“I was. Sort of. Not the actor I thought I’d be but make no mistake, I worked my ass off. Sure, I’d hoped to be a Broadway sensation, but I needed the money and the experience of performing in front of a crowd. I was too skinny to be a go-go dancer, or I might have done that instead. Faster money with a lot less effort. Instead, I put on a dress, heels, and a whole lot of makeup and sang to throngs of sexy men in the Castro. No lip-syncing. I actually sang. Well, most of the time anyway. I did a little of everything.