Silver Biker: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Dinner, yes. It’s a heart-healthy diet,” Mama begins, and three grown men groan as my mother reaches for Evie’s hand. “It’s going to be good for all of us,” she adds, leading Evie away from me. My wife looks at me over her shoulder, wondering if I’ll be okay, and I realize I need a minute before I enter the house.

  My siblings all follow my mother inside, but my father remains on the front porch. I walk to the edge of the steps leading upward.

  “Sir,” I say in greeting. My dad remains quiet. He isn’t angry or sad, not disappointed or even upset. He’s just watching me, knowing that I need to do this. He might not have rushed me like Mama or Mati. He might not have joked with me like my brothers, but from man to man, I need to do what I do next.

  “Dad, I’d like to come home.” My voice cracks, and I feel like a child but also an adult. Very adult. I’ve done him wrong for no reason other than my own issues of weakness and failure.

  “Our door is always open to you, James.” When I was a kid, my dad was my hero in some ways. I knew his story from Pap. George Jr. had been a bit of a rabble-rouser, and Pap would always look at me when he said those words. Then Junior married Elaina, a debutante from Atlanta, and he was a changed man. He filled her with kids, gave her a beautiful home, and ran a successful company. But at the end of the day, he was still a man and still a father.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I whisper, and he softly smiles at me, walking down the steps to meet me where I stand.

  “I know you are,” he says, not accusing me, just understanding. I’m only a man as well. I’m a father and a husband, and it doesn’t make me perfect. It makes me human and a rock. Solid, strong, and powerful, yet able to grumble either by slowing chipping away at me or dropping me on my ass. I’ve had it all happen. But as rocks tumble, collecting dirt and soil and compacting themselves with other things, they rebuild, and one day, a tiny rock becomes a mountain. It just takes time.

  33

  The Trophy Room

  [Evie]

  “Hey,” I say, opening the door to the infamous trophy room in the elder Harrington’s home. It’s late, and I took a nap after dinner. I didn’t want James to leave as he was slowly melting back in with his brothers.

  “Just a little rest,” I told him and Elaina, who was equally worried I’d overdone it.

  “We can go,” James said to which I replied, “No,” and Elaina begged, “Not yet.” I knew her fear. If he disappeared, he might not come back. But I had faith at James’s reception that we’d be back for more Sunday dinners.

  I laid down in Giant and James’s old room and instantly fell asleep with the relief of dinner going well. There were hiccups. It wasn’t perfect, but we would get there. James would get there.

  “I slept so long,” I tell him, entering the room and closing the door. It’s dark outside, as it’s November, but it’s also later than I expected us to be here.

  “That’s okay. You alright?” he asks.

  “Yeah. How about you?”

  “I think I’ll leave you two alone.” Charlie’s voice surprises me. I hadn’t noticed him in the overstuffed chair facing the television. He stands and comes to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “It’s good to have you home.”

  He turns to his brother. “Both of you.”

  Charlie dismisses himself. He doesn’t have far to go as he’s the house next door.

  “Did everyone else leave?”

  James chuckles as he holds out an arm. “Hours ago, baby.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, coming up to him and climbing over his lap instead of tucking into his arm on the couch. “New couch, huh?”

  This room holds a few tales I never want to hear about four teenage boys drinking underage and diddling with girls. The brother with the most stories is under my thighs. It’s called the trophy room because it once housed all the sports and activity trophies of this family, but the shelves of the full wall entertainment center now hold frame after frame of the expanding family. Somewhere on those shelves are baby pictures of Michael and a wedding photograph of James and me, but I’m not interested in looking behind me. I focus on the man before me.

  “Whatcha doing, Peach?” he asks as his head tips back on the couch, and I lower myself, getting comfortable in the crook I want on him. His hands lazily come to my hips.

  “Where are your parents?” I whisper to him. I have no idea how late it is.

  “They went to their room a while ago, and Charlie and I were just hanging out. Mama didn’t want me to wake you. I think she was hoping I’d spend the night and never leave.”

  I chuckle over him, swiping a hand over his silvery hair and scraping my fingers back up his head. I lean forward and kiss him, slow and sweet.

  “Evie,” he groans. We haven’t had sex since I was in the hospital. He’s treating me too tenderly lately. My mouth becomes more insistent over his. “Peach, the doctor said nothing strenuous.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I purr against my lips. “Then we’ll need to go slow and quiet.” My mouth returns to his, and he lifts a little, taking me harder, tongue thrusting forward.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” he says, and I curl my lips at him as I slip from his lap. Hitching up the skirt of my dress, I tug down my underwear and return to his lap.

  “I heard this is the place to get a piece of James Harrington,” I tease, and James shakes his head.

  “Mama’s gonna kill me for messing up this new couch,” he mutters, leaning for me and taking my mouth hard again. We kiss hot and heavy for a few minutes before I pull back and reach for his belt.

  “Better only be messy in me then,” I tease, and James’s head falls backward again.

  “Jesus,” he hisses. “That mouth.”

  “I just want to remind you who you belong to.” I deepen my voice as I speak, imitating his tone. Once I have the zipper down and my hand in his briefs, I squeeze him. “This belongs to me.”

  He crashes his mouth against mine again, and he works his pants a little lower to free him from the confines of the denim. He breaks from me and shoves my skirt upward, laying the material at my hips.

  “You sure about this, Peach,” he mutters, his eyes focused on me spread over his lap and my hand wrapped around his thick shaft.

  “Need to remind you where you belong,” I say, keeping the deep tone as best I can. When his thumb comes to my clit, I squeak.

  “Quiet, Peach,” he warns, and then he hisses. “You’re getting messy all over me.”

  “Better do something about that then,” I tease, and he holds himself upright while I lift on my knees. Balancing on the tip of him, I kiss him once more.

  “James,” I whisper his name with all the love I have for him. “Only you on my lips.”

  “Evie. Jesus, I love you.” He guides me down over his hard length, and I pause as he fills me. My mouth falls open at the fullness, but I hold in the groan of relief. He’s where he belongs. In this house. In my heart. Inside me.

  “I love you, too,” I tell him, holding his eyes once more as he holds mine, no longer afraid to look at me. In fact, he’s looking at me with all the love I ever had from him and more.

  “Go slow,” he warns me.

  “Nah, you and I are always fast, baby.” I start rocking my hips, drawing to the tip, and then lowering to swallow him in again, but we can’t keep slow, and gradually, the pace builds. I’m lifting and lowering, and his mouth captures mine, thrusting his tongue in me to match the way I’m riding over him.

  “So close,” I mutter, wrapping an arm around his neck and cupping his jaw like he cups mine. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” The words punctuate the rhythm of my heart and the tempo of me working over him, until I still, slamming down on him and feeling the release wash over me. I clench, and he hisses.

  “Shit,” he mutters and tips up his hips to match me. His neck strains. His fingers squeeze my hips. When he comes down from the high, his head lifts from the back of the couch, and he looks right at me with the bluest of ey
es. We stare at each other with sex-satisfied smiles.

  “We’re gonna make it, aren’t we, Peach?”

  “We’re going to make it, Ranger. As long as we’re together.” I kiss him softly. “Take me home.”

  And James nods because home is wherever we are together.

  Epilogue

  Short but Sweet

  [Evie]

  It has been ten days since that Sunday dinner. It took courage for James to enter their house and wordlessly ask forgiveness of everyone. Then he asked to speak to his dad privately, and they disappeared into his father’s office for a long time. When James came out, he was like a new man. I didn’t ask what they discussed. It was between father and son, but James seemed lighter, better, and then there was what we did in the trophy room.

  As we exited the room, his father stood outside it, head lowered, hands in his pants pockets. I slipped behind James, shy about what we just did. As James held my hand, he addressed his father.

  “Dad, we’re gonna head out now.”

  “I think that’s best,” he said, a sly smile on his face. “Glad it wasn’t your mother who came to check on you.”

  James chuckled, and the two men looked at each other. It must be an old joke. “At least, she’s your wife.” He winked at me, and the implication was clear. He knew what we were doing, and I wanted to melt into the floor.

  “Where are we going?” I holler over the roar of the engine. It’s been a brisk ride, but James wanted to enjoy a rare beautiful day in early winter. When we pull off the side of the road, I’m confused.

  “Is this it?” We aren’t anywhere but the side of the road, although I have a sense that the lake is somewhere to our left.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” I mean it with everything in me. I trust him to keep me safe and protect my heart.

  “I want to blindfold you.”

  “What?” We’ve discussed some kinky things lately, and we’ve been pushing some boundaries as we discover one another’s bodies.

  “Just . . . do this.” His eyes soften as he looks at me over his shoulder, and I nod. He shifts, and I slip off the bike. Pulling a bandana from his pocket, he folds it and wraps it over my eyes. “I know it’s going to feel weird riding blindly, but it’s only a short ways. I have a surprise for you.”

  The glee in his voice fills me with eager anticipation.

  “How will I know to lean with you?” I ask, as I fumble onto the bike and curl into his back.

  “You feel me, Peach.” And I do. James and I were one in many ways, and as his body moves, so does mine.

  He goes slow, and the distance isn’t far as he promised. The pavement turns to gravel under his tires, and then we stop. I shift off his back, and James offers his hand on my arm to guide me off the bike.

  “I’ve got you,” he says, and I smile to myself. I’ve got him, too.

  James’s hands come to my shoulders as he’s behind me, and he moves me a few steps before holding me still.

  “Okay,” he says as he pulls the bandana from my eyes, but I still keep them closed. “You can look.”

  When I open, I begin to laugh. “What is this?” I stare at the vintage silver Airstream parked on the land at Bolton Lake.

  “Surprise,” he says to me, and I lean back against his chest. He kisses my neck.

  “Please tell me this isn’t our new house,” I tease.

  “Why not? I checked all around for alligators.” It’s good to hear the tease in James’s voice, the lilt of excitement and flirt. I turn in his arms, slipping mine around his neck.

  “You know I’ll live anywhere with you, but a camper in the winter isn’t top on my list.”

  James leans forward, kissing me, tender and sweet, and if he has his way, we might be up against that aluminum on wheels, chilly or not.

  “Where did you find this thing?” I say, pulling back and twisting to look at the camper again, but keeping myself tucked into his chest.

  “I rented it. Last weekend before it gets really cold, so I thought we could use it as a little getaway.” He’d been doing this. Trying to make our dates as unique and unusual as he can.

  “I want to show you something, though.” He releases me but takes my hand, and we circle the camper, facing out at the lake.

  “What a view,” I whisper, remembering the first time I pulled the rig into this spot. I’d been running away from home, trying to find myself. Instead, I found James. Or he found me. It didn’t matter as long as we were together.

  “I want to see this view every day with you, Evie.” I nod to agree and then turn to face him. He takes both my hands with his and rubs his thumbs over my knuckles. “Remember when I spoke with my dad at dinner?”

  He swallows hard. It’s going to be a long road to fix what he’s lost with his parents, but they’ve been open to his return.

  “I asked for his forgiveness for disappearing and being disrespectful all those years.” James pauses, keeping his eyes on his thumb over my knuckles. “And I apologized for making them worry about me and promised I’d try to do better. I’d be crushed if Michael had ever shut me out, and I realized how much I hurt my father because he’s my father.”

  “Wow,” I say softly. That’s a lot to have shared.

  “Yeah, wow.”

  I wait him out as I sense he has more to share.

  “Then I asked him if I could have the land. This land.” I look up from where I’ve been staring at his thumbs rubbing my hands and into his face.

  “Here?” I ask, although that’s exactly what he said.

  “I thought this would be a good place to start over. A new beginning. We could build a house here. And we’d have that view every day.”

  I nod again, turning to look out across the water in the fading afternoon sun. It’s getting darker so much earlier this time of year, but the lake still glistens.

  “It’s a nice view.” I smile as I speak. “And no alligators? Sounds like a great place to live.”

  As I tease him, I feel him lowering before me, still holding my hands.

  “James?” I choke as he reaches into his pocket.

  “Then I asked my dad for permission to marry my wife again.” A new ring is presented to me. One different than our first. The silver band holds a large diamond, and I recognize that it’s my original stone in a new setting.

  “Evelyn Sue Harrington, would you do me the honor of marrying me? Again.” He pauses before adding, “Let me be your rock.”

  “Only if I can be yours.” We look at one another, hopeful of starting over. “I would love to marry you again, James Harrington.”

  He slips the beautiful diamond ring on my finger and stands, reaching up for my jaw before kissing me hard. I laugh at the rush of his lips against mine, but he continues working my mouth until I give in to him. We kiss like we first did, only that time we were in the water.

  “I have one more thing for you inside the camper.” He smiles sheepishly.

  “Oh, a big surprise in your camper,” I tease. “Bet that line works on all the girls.”

  “Only needs to work on one, Peach.” He winks and leads me by my hand inside the small rig. It’s tight, and I sit on the edge of the bed. James reaches inside the compact refrigerator and pulls out a single cupcake.

  My brows pinch as I watch him stick a candle in the frosting and light the wick. He kneels before me again on one knee.

  “Every year, you’d call me, and every year I’d count down the days until that phone rang.”

  I whisper his name. We’ve let all this go.

  He shakes his head and continues. “And I know it was always a sad call even though it was a celebration of his life.” We only spoke on the happy occasion marking Michael’s birth, not his unfortunate death. “I’d hear you blow out that candle and close my eyes, making my own wish. I’d wish for you, Evie. Like all those years I’d been waiting on you and hadn’t known it, I’d silently wish for you to forgive me, love me, and come back to me.”r />
  I cup his jaw with the hand now holding a new ring. “I’m here for you.”

  “And I promise to be there for you. From this day forward. I like the idea of building where we conceived Michael. Where you agreed to marry me, now twice. Where we made love, made up, and now, where we promise to be it for each other all over again. Let’s celebrate. To day one together, make a wish, baby.”

  A tear rolls from my eye, and I quickly swipe it. It’s a happy tear finally. “They are already coming true,” I whisper because being back with him is the only wish I could wish for that could come true.

  We gently blow together, and the flame goes out. In the quiet, we smile at one another.

  “So remember that little fantasy play after we had ice cream?”

  I smile deeper, fighting the grin as I chew on my lip. It’s a great memory, and a night I won’t soon forget.

  “How do you feel about frosting?” His blue eyes sparkle as they did years ago, crystal clear and full of hope.

  “I’d say I’m willing to play along,” I tease.

  “Ah, my Peach is always ripe for me.” He winks before giving his lips to me, and he isn’t wrong.

  I’m ready for him and more.

  + + +

  Want to read start at the beginning the Harrington brothers? Go back here > Silver Brewer.

  Want to start the Harringtons at the beginning? Their sister, Mati, starts off their storyline. > Second Chance

  Want to read more #sexysilverfoxes? Start here > After Care.

  Want to stay up to date on all things #sexysilverfox and L.B. Dunbar? Join here > Love Notes

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