by Kane Daemon
When I entered the garage, I found tinkering with the bike. The piece of machinery was a monstrosity, and certainly big enough for the two of us. Zane had polished the chrome to such a shin, that I was sure we’d blind others on the road. Men loved their expensive toys.
“Ready?” He nodded at my purse. “No need for that. Everything will be on me.”
I slid my ID from my wallet and into my back pocket, then put my purse on one of the workbenches while Zane opened the garage door. I moved around the Mercedes, noticing that it was freshly waxed that morning.
“What time did you get up?” I asked.
“Five,” he said and slung a long leg over the bike. He grabbed the handlebars and kicked the kickstand. “Hop on.”
“Don’t I need a helmet?”
“Only if we wreck.” He started the bike, and the engine roared.
At first, I struggled to climb on; my legs were not long enough to straddle the seat and touch the ground. But then Zane grabbed my hand and placed it on his shoulder. Using him to steady myself, I landed my ass on the seat.
“You’re going to need to hang on,” he told me.
I looked around and found nothing to hang onto. Zane glanced back at me and smiled. With his hand stretched out, reached for mine, and pulled my arm around his waist. I took his not so subtle hint and moved my other hand around his waist, clasped my hands together, pressed my breasts against his back, and rested my chin on his shoulder.
“Ready to eat some bugs?” He put on a pair of sunglasses and then handed me a pair. He pulled out from the garage. I looked back to see the garage door closing. I was heading off on the back of a bike with a stranger. Indeed, I would be on the nightly news at some point.
I held on tight, as we bounced around the dirt road leading to the main highway with Zane’s hard stomach pressing against my hands. I squeezed my legs against his. Every problem I had in the world drifted away.
We turned onto the highway, heading west with the sun on our backs. I tried to watch the road, but seeing it go by so fast made my stomach ache. I finally settled on looking forward and watching the oncoming scenery. There wasn’t much greenery and a whole lot of brown, but the beauty was there, nonetheless. Yay for me for trying something new. Life was like a box of chocolates and all that stuff.
Thirty minutes into our trip, Zane pulled into a small mom and pop gas station, where he bought us each a bottle of water. He carried on small talk with an older man wearing overalls and flannel shirt, who turned out to be the store owner. A John Deere hat adorned his tiny head, and his fingernails were dirty. They apparently knew each other. The man had done some work for Zane while he was out of the state a few weeks ago. Zane paid for the water and left the man a ten-dollar tip. Outside, Zane leaned against one of the support posts that held the little shop’s overhang up. Seeing him like that was the first time I got a hint that there was more to him than met the eye. He had a past. Didn’t we all? Something was lurking behind those eyes of his. There was a darkness about him.
“What do you think so far?” he asked. “Scared?”
“Yeah, I was at first. Then I relaxed.” I shot him a smile. “And, I think I only ate one bug.”
He laughed and finished off his water. “You might never want to go back to the way things were, Carrie.”
The comment caught me off guard, as did his use of my name. Mike never used my name. I thought about what Zane said and then realized he was right. Why go back to the way things were? That was the point of heading west in the first place; to get the fuck away from what once was. “Maybe,” I finally responded, surprising him with a smile.
“Stick around long enough, and I’ll teach you how to ride on your own.” He climbed on the bike. I decided against telling him there was no way in hell I was ever riding alone. I climbed on behind him and wrapped my hands around his waist, scooting forward, pressing against him. Fuck, it felt good to be against him.
We spent the next thirty minutes alone on the open road. There were a thousand things that dashed through my mind along the way. Zane could very well be defined as the man of any woman’s dreams. But I sensed he was still in pain from losing his wife. He wanted me to stay, but how would I deal with that emotion?
On top of that, Zane had never brought up or asked me why I was driving west in the first place. I hadn’t had time to mention anything about Mike or the troubles we had. Mike was served the papers and never questioned them. Without a spoken word, he signed off on the divorce. I wasn’t so sure if Mike liked what he had done. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. I just felt that once he realized what was going on, he would come looking for me. After all, who would make his meals?
The longer I sat behind Zane and held onto him, the more I wanted him. The smell of his skin and the warmth of his body next to me were exhilarating, suggesting that maybe my dreams were possible. All I ever wanted out of life was to give myself to someone I could trust, someone who could hold up their side of the bargain. I was tired of being someone’s crutch. It wasn’t that I wanted someone to take care of me so I could sit around on the couch all day, I just wanted someone who made me their everything, and in return, I made them my everything. I wanted equal. I wanted reciprocity. I wanted to finally be able to tell my parents I was in love with the right man for all the right reasons.
I felt the bike slow, and I looked around Zane. He pulled to the shoulder behind a car with its hood up. A young man appeared from around the front of the vehicle, and a young woman, holding a baby, emerged from the passenger seat.
The man said something in Spanish, and Zane replied in Spanish. He followed the young man to the front of the car. The woman said something I couldn’t understand.
“She asked if you could hold her baby for a moment,” Zane said.
I nodded at the woman, and she handed me the baby.
The boy’s eyes were especially blue against his dark skin. “He’s beautiful,” I said.
The young man moved around the car and climbed in the driver side. The car started, and Zane closed the hood. I handed the baby back to the woman, and she joined her husband. They pulled away, leaving Zane and I standing by the bike.
“You always stop for people broken down on the side of the road?”
Zane nodded. “I do, actually.” He hopped on the bike. “Several years ago, my bike broke down on the highway. I was a little rough looking back then, and so nobody stopped to help. Then I decided to hoof-it to town. I didn’t get ten feet from the bike before a woman stopped to help me.”
“Your future wife,” I said.
“My future wife.”
I climbed behind Zane and held on, as we finished the ride to the ranch. The first mention of his wife was left hanging out there for a later discussion.
CHAPTER FOUR
ZANE
I regretted bringing up Amanda like that. It had been unfair to Carrie to throw it out there and not explain the things I struggled within my soul. Amanda’s death would always be a part of my life. I loved her that much. Thus far, I hadn't been able to date another woman without the memories of Amanda clouding those relationships. Of course, everyone told me Amanda would want me to move on and lead a happy life. But, the advice was easier to give than to take. Having her brother, Trucker, around, only made moving on more difficult.
As I lay in bed the previous night, Carrie stuck with me for some reason I hadn't figured out. When I stopped helping her last night, I never intended to bring her home and find myself attracted to her. It just sort of happened. I thought, maybe when it was time, Amanda’s spirit would send the right woman to me. I believed that happened. Yeah, I probably had almost twenty-years on her, but that didn’t matter in my mind. I hoped it didn’t matter in hers. We hadn’t shared our ages, yet.
We pulled into the ranch shortly after eleven, almost in time for lunch.
“Zane,” Renny shouted out as he approached. He gave me a huge bear hug and then looked at Carrie. “Damn. You know how to find them.�
� He stuck his hand out. “Renny Chadwick, owner of this fine establishment.” Renny motioned at me. “Watch out for him!”
“Carrie Duvay,” she said and shook Renny’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Renny and I attended high school together in Phoenix. We were best friends but parted ways for a bit when he went off to Arizona State, and I left for U.C.L.A. After graduating, Renny spent some time in the pen for manslaughter that resulted in a misunderstanding over bikes. His parents passed while he was incarcerated. When he was released from prison, he had a trust fund waiting on him. He bought the ranch and had stayed out of trouble since.
“You wanna chat or take the ponies out?” Renny asked.
I looked at Carrie and was happy to see her smile. “I take it you ride?”
“I love riding,” she said.
Renny pointed at her black boots. “Come on in, and we’ll find you some real western footwear.”
We followed Renny into his small store, and he began showing Carrie his selection of women’s boots. “Size you wear?” he asked.
“Sevens.” Carrie ran her fingers along a black pair of boots on the wall. I nodded at Renny while Carrie’s attention was preoccupied.
“Be right back,” Renny told her.
When Renny entered the back room, Carrie shook her head. “I’m sure I can’t afford these.” It didn’t matter.
“He’s putting it on my tab.” Knowing she would protest, I held up my hand for her to stop. “You’re my guest.” She started to protest again, but I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Last pair,” Renny said when he returned. He removed the boots from the box, and Carrie took a seat on a tree stump that Renny thought would be a good idea for customers to sit on. He slipped the boots onto Carrie’s feet, and she walked around the store. The smile on her face sold the boots.
“How much?” Carrie asked.
Renny glanced at me, and I nodded. “Two-fifty.”
“No,” Carrie said. “I can’t do that.”
Renny shook his head at me and then stood. “This motherfucker has more money than he knows what to do with. If you don’t spend it, somebody else will.”
Carrie looked at me, and I shrugged. “Get the boots, and let's go for a ride.”
“The ponies are waiting outside. Go on out, and I’ll put it on your tab.”
I opened the door just as they rumbled onto the property with a dust cloud in their wake. If I’d known, we would have made other plans.
Trucker led them to the parking spots in the shade. There were eight of them, including Trucker, who held the position of club president. He stepped from his bike and placed his helmet on the seat. His father died a few years ago when he crashed his motorcycle and struck his head on the pavement. Split his skull straight down the middle. Trucker's father didn't believe in wearing helmets. The club lost its founding member that day. From that day forward, Trucker always wore a helmet.
The second in charge, VP Nick Stringer, followed. The other six guys remained with the bikes but gave me a weak nod.
Trucker stared at Carrie as he approached, folding his riding gloves before sticking them into his back pocket. “Who’s your old lady?” He nodded at Carrie. His face always had either a pissed off look or a look of constipation.
“Excuse me?” Carrie looked from me to Trucker and then back at me.
“Her name’s Carrie. And she’s not my old lady.”
Stringer passed Trucker and leaned against the same post Carrie had been leaning against before moving next to her. She glanced at the tattoos on his arms and then at mine. I had some explaining to do.
Trucker studied the horses outside the stalls to our left. One of the ranch hands watched us with the horses’ reins in his hands. “You going for a ride?”
“Planned on it.”
“Traded the bike for a fucking horse. Amanda would be proud.”
Trucker started shit anytime he saw me with a new woman. I glanced at Stringer, who was checking out Carrie’s ass. He saw me watching him and looked away.
“What do you want, Trucker?” He and Renny, the ranch owner, had some history also, so Trucker could have been at the ranch for any number of reasons.
“Renny’s been working on a new design for the club. Son-of-a-bitch is two-weeks overdue.” Trucker’s attention went to the door when it opened. He walked up to Renny and gave him a bear hug, Trucker’s biceps bulged as he squeezed. “You letting him out on the open range with some of your finest horses.”
“You come on in, and I’ll show you what I’ve got.” Renny nodded at me. “Take the Navajo Trail. The lean-to is already stocked with water and lunch if ya wanna stop there.
“Thanks, Renny.”
I led Carrie away from the building, and the bikers who had their eyes all over her.
“Not gonna say bye?” Trucker called after me.
I waved but considered flipping him the finger.
“Friends of yours, I’m guessing.” Carrie took the horse’s reins, shoved her boot in the stirrup, and tried to pull herself up. I watched with a look of amusement on my face until she looked at me. “Are you having fun?’
“I am actually. Are you?”
“A real gentleman would help a lady.” She still had her foot in the stirrup, her other foot on the ground. I guessed maybe she did it on purpose.
I reached over and removed her foot from the stirrup. I gave her a wink when I put my hands around her waist and then lifted her onto the horse. “Better?”
“Show off,” she said teasingly.
I patted the horse’s neck. “This fellow's name is Criss-Cross, by the way.”
“Great. Should I be scared?
I laughed. “Only if you let Criss-Cross lead.”
“What’s his name?” she asked, referring to my ride.
“Gentleman Taylor.” I gave him a little nudge, and we set off down Navajo Trail.
The sun danced around our backs. The temperature was a comfortable seventy-five-degrees with a light breeze dropping down from the north. Except for a visit by Hell’s Justice, things were perfect.
Carrie urged her horse forward and rode next to me. The trail was a good six-feet wide, so there was plenty of room. Since she had some riding experience, I didn’t want to presume anything. I let her ride how she wanted. If that was next to me, then so be it.
“You come out here often?” Carrie’s horse bumped against mine, and we smiled at each other.
“Every weekend I’m in town.” I pointed toward the open trail and then the canyon we were about to enter. “You can’t find this kind of beauty in a city. Beats the hell out of New York or business in Europe.” I looked directly into her eyes. “The fresh air helps clear my head and helps me think.”
Carrie looked ahead at the opening to the canyon. She unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her cleavage. I couldn't help myself and followed her skin up from her cleavage to her neck. I felt a growing desire for her that I hadn't had for another woman since Amanda died.
We entered the canyon, side by side, and then stopped at one of the lean-tos Renny had mentioned. The small building with walls on only three sides gave cover from the sun and the heat of the day. There were two bunks on the back wall, and a picnic table sat in the middle of the room. A cooler sat under the bottom bunk.
I moved from Gentleman Taylor and stood next to Criss-cross. “Want some help down?”
Carrie dropped the reins, her dark eyes falling on mine. I tied the horses to the post in front of us. Carrie swung her leg over the horse and dropped down into my arms. We stared at each other for a moment.
“Thank you for bringing me out here,” she said.
I moved my hand around hers and led her to the table. “We should make it a habit.” I grabbed the cooler and placed it at the end of the table. “You really are welcome to stay with me as long as you like.”
“I hate to impose.” She grabbed the two boxes from the cooler and placed one in front of me, taking the other for herself.
“Soda or water?”
“Water. Keep us hydrated while we are out here.” I put the cooler back under the bunk and joined Carrie at the table. I knew I still had a lot of explaining to do. Trucker was part of my life, whether I liked it or not.
CHAPTER FIVE
Carrie
I took a chip from the bag sitting between us and stared at the horses. Twenty-four hours ago, I had been running away from home to what I had no idea. I would figure it out when I got there. Had I gotten there?
Who wanted a man like Zane? Every woman on the planet, I would think. At least that was my opinion from what I knew so far. Though the run-in with guys on the motorcycles seemed to suggest he had a dark past he wanted to avoid. Yeah, because no one else besides him had something dark lingering in their past.
“I’m serious about the offer,” he said. “Stay awhile and see how you like it. Unless you have something else planned.”
Yeah, I had my entire life planned out to the very last detail. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to stay. I didn’t even know if I still had a car. I put my sandwich down and wiped my mouth. Zane couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me, which made me feel both fabulous and self-conscious. “Yes,” I said and then said something I regretted. “Why, though? Why me? I’m sure you can do better.” From his reaction, Zane didn’t seem surprised or thrown off by the question. Thank God.
“To be honest, I don’t know. A feeling, I guess.” He took a sip of water, and I watched him swallow. I wasn't sure I’d ever done that before. Everything about him was sexy, from the way he drank to the way he held the bottle.
“Can you tell me more about Amanda?” I waited a few seconds. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. I knew it would come up eventually.” He moved his box lunch aside and took another drink of water. I noticed just a touch of gray along his temples. “There’s probably a lot of things you need to know about me if you plan to stick around.”