Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys

by Lynnette Austin

  “So that’s why you came back.”

  “Yes. The million-dollar answer to the question that’s got everyone dying of curiosity. Now go away and leave me alone. It’s not a very big town, but there’s no reason we can’t both live here and manage to stay out of each other’s way.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And you’re very welcome.”

  At her puzzled expression, he tipped his head toward the town hall. “For my help in there. I’m sure you didn’t need it. No doubt they’d have hired you. Small town like this, they’re not about to let a little thing like somebody’s past get in the way of their future.”

  “I’d have been fine without you, Reiner. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t need anything from you. Leave me alone.”

  He doffed an imaginary hat. “You have a good evenin’ now.”

  Mesmerized, she watched him saunter over to a mouth-watering red ’Vette, then settle himself behind the wheel. He dropped the ragtop and cranked the ignition, whipping both his car and her libido into a frenzy of activity.

  Katie Sara watched the wind tug at his dark hair, heard the heavy metal blast from his CD player as he streaked from the parking lot and headed down the shadowy street. It had rained while they were inside, and his headlights gleamed on small puddles. The scent of rain surrounded her. Rain, Reiner, and the memory of his touch on her arm.

  She sighed. He’d called her Ace. The Ace of Hearts. Like he had eleven years ago. Her stomach did a swift fandango.

  She snatched at her remaining anger and fanned it. Why did he have to stand up for her and then bring up her daddy? The money. Say it all out loud!

  Shivering, she ran to her car, anxious to be long gone before the meeting broke up.

  Heck, if she had any sense at all, she’d just be long gone. End of story. She’d watch that city limits sign in her rearview mirror once again—for the last time.

  If she had any sense.

  Chapter Five

  Forearm resting on the Corvette’s doorframe, Reiner breezed through the town’s only red light. What the heck. Who’d give the returning hero a ticket after the town fathers had strung those banners to hell and back with his name plastered all over them?

  Welcome home. He snorted. Katie Sara sure had been happy to see him, all right. He was glad he hadn’t put any money down on that one. All these years, he’d pictured himself running into her somewhere. After a game, maybe, or walking down some street. He’d imagined what they’d say to each other and how she’d taste. The heat of their reunion kiss.

  He remembered the raw hunger, the impatient kisses they’d shared in the backseat of his dad’s old Buick. And he recalled the shy seventeen-year-old Katie Sara who’d adored him.

  Hah! Instead, what’d he get? A little hellcat, furious because he’d stood up for her against Harvey, that self-righteous blowhard.

  Reiner downshifted and checked out the darkened storefronts. Driving into town this afternoon, he’d spotted the banners and decided to postpone his trip down memory lane. It was far safer to take his first ride along Main Street after dark.

  By himself.

  Disgusted, he shook his head. Women. They could tick you off without even trying. Although Katie Sara’d had herself pretty worked up tonight. Boy, he’d hate to see her when she had a real mad on.

  The woman certainly did look good, though. That long wavy hair a man wanted to sink his hands into, those forest green eyes to get lost in...and the body. Oh, yeah. He remembered every sweet inch of that body, and it had only improved with age.

  He squirmed in the leather seat, then raised his voice an octave to mimic hers. “’It’s a small town, but there’s no reason we can’t both live here and manage to stay out of each other’s way.’ What a load of BS,” he grumbled.

  Sandra Bullock, who never seemed to age, always made him think of Katie Sara, so even though most of Bullock’s movies were chick flicks, he found himself drawn to them. In fact, every time she had a new one out, he slapped on a ball cap for disguise, went to the theater, bought himself a big tub of buttered popcorn, and pretended it was Katie Sara up there. Then, like a fool, he’d buy copies of the things and watch them over and over. Go figure!

  Well, that was finished. Done. Kaput!

  He shook his head. The town was desolate. A person could roll a bowling ball clear down Main Street. What’d they do, start locking the place up at dark? Where the heck did everybody go? Every man, woman, and child of Paradox couldn’t be sitting at home watching summer reruns.

  Empty parking spaces flanked both sides of the street like linemen before the football was snapped. But in one window, neon lights blinked. Beckoned. Life did exist. He veered into a space and hit the brakes.

  Wonder if anybody he knew still hung at The Hole in the Wall. A couple of beers and a game or two of billiards might be exactly what he needed to cool off.

  He swung through the door, his dark mood heeling like a well-trained dog. The place hadn’t changed a bit. Three pool tables dominated the dark, smoke-filled room. Dim lamps above each table cast pale halos over the green felt and masked the rest of the room in shadow.

  It was probably just as well.

  The smell of stale beer from years gone by layered the air to bully his olfactories.

  “Hey, Lucky, what’s up?”

  “Not much, Reiner.” The bartender swiped at the counter with his bar cloth. “Stayin’ long?”

  “Hard to say.”

  Lucky pushed the toothpick between his lips to the other side. “Don’t look all that happy about bein’ back.”

  “It’s okay. Not the town I’ve got a problem with.” He straddled a barstool. “How ’bout an ice-cold Coors.”

  “Draft or bottle?”

  “Bottle.”

  Lucky popped the top off one and slid it down the bar.

  Tipping it back, Reiner took a long draw, then set it down to scan the room. A couple guys who looked barely old enough to shave sat at a corner table nursing beers and staring at him. Part of the price of fame, he reminded himself. Helped pay for that ’Vette he’d ridden in on and the new house he’d bought.

  Still, he’d hoped to escape it here in Paradox where most everybody’d known him since he’d been in diapers. And who knew? Maybe he could after the first little while, once the novelty wore off.

  “Hi, guys.” He nodded toward the kids, then turned back to his drink, hoping to discourage any glad-handing. He wasn’t in the mood to play nice tonight. Thank you, Katie Sara. He took another swig of his beer.

  When the door opened a few minutes later, Reiner couldn’t hide his grin. Rocco Salaverry, in jeans and a T-shirt, strode into the room. “Figured that had to be your car out there. Nobody ’round here’d own anything that red!”

  “Or that bad!” Tim Reed charged in behind Rocco. “Reiner, you old dog! Heard you were in town! Figured we’d find you here.”

  Sliding off his stool, Reiner stuck out his hand, then thought better of it and clapped his two childhood friends on the back, the equivalent of a male hug.

  “Lucky, get these two whatever poison they’re drinkin’ these days.”

  “You got it.”

  “Why don’t we move to one of the tables?” Reiner grabbed his beer and emptied it. “Hey, Lucky, I’m gonna need another one of these.” He waved his bottle, and the bartender nodded.

  Slouched in a rickety old chair, cold drink in hand and popping peanuts into his mouth, Reiner grinned at the other two. Rocco, with his dark Italian good-looks, was a foil for the blue-eyed, sandy-haired Tim.

  “Jeez, it’s good to see you guys. I’ve missed you. Rocco, how are Mary and the baby?”

  “Baby Anna’s already two years old. Man, she’s pure magic. Talkin’ up a storm and smart! Now her mama, Mary, the love of my life—”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”

  Rocco punched him playfully on the arm. “You wait. One of these days, bro, some gal is gonna knock you flat on your butt. And when you fall, y
ou’re gonna fall hard.”

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t hold my breath. Hamlet and Macbeth keep me company, and the three of us do just fine.”

  “Them old mutts. Ought to see them, Reiner, ridin’ around with him. Takes ’em to McDonald’s and buys ’em dinner every Friday night.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Rocco snorted.

  “And for the record,” Tim continued, “they’re not mutts. Hamlet’s a registered Rhodesian ridgeback, and Macbeth’s one of the finest hound dogs you’ll ever run across.”

  Reiner raised his bottle. “A toast. To Macbeth and Hamlet. May it be a long time till anything’s rotten in Denmark. Or Paradox.”

  “Speaking of... Guess you know my cousin moved back this weekend?” Tim asked. “Though that’s not a rotten thing,” he added quickly.

  “Not too sure about that, but yeah, I know she’s back. Saw her tonight down at the town hall. Might say we had a little run-in.”

  “Already?”

  “Yep.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Nope.” His mouth drawn into a thin line, he propped a foot on the chair beside him.

  Tim and Rocco exchanged glances.

  “Okay, then,” Rocco said. “New subject. The town’s buzzin’ with a thousand different reasons why you’re here.” He met his pal’s eyes. “Why’d you come home after all this time, Reiner, buy a house? Without tellin’ us.”

  “Ah, good question and an easy answer.” He took another pull on his beer. With each drink, he hoped the alcohol would shut down his anger at Katie Sara and numb his nervous system. It didn’t seem to be happening.

  “You know my brother Nathan and his wife Alicia are pilots in the Air Force Reserves. Well, with this mess goin’ on overseas, they got called back into active duty.”

  “Both of them?” Rocco asked. “But they’ve got a daughter.”

  “Exactly.”

  “No way,” Tim said. “You’re not telling us—”

  “Yep. Bachelor father of a teenage daughter. That’s me.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “My folks are down in Mexico in the middle of a dig, so Auntie Belham volunteered to stay with Felicity. After a week, she decided a thirteen-year-old was more work than she remembered, so...she called in the cavalry. Seems Felicity has a few—shall we say—unsavory friends.”

  “Kind of like her uncle in high school?” Rocco asked.

  “Probably.” Reiner was nothing if not honest. “Anyway, Auntie Belham thought it best to separate her from them. They’re comin’ to Paradox. Tomorrow.” Deep breath. “Felicity will live with me.”

  Tim just shook his head, while Rocco gave him a you-have-got-to-be-out-of-your-mind look.

  Reiner shrugged. “What’re you gonna do, you know? Nathan and Alicia are over there puttin’ themselves in harm’s way for us, and I can’t spend a few months with my niece? That’d be pretty pathetic. A guy’s gotta step up to the line and accept his responsibility.”

  “Yeah, but still...”

  Reiner’s eyes held a faraway look. “No more late nights, no more...sleep-overs.”

  Tim and Rocco shared exaggerated expressions of sympathy.

  “Speakin’ of,” Rocco said. “Gina sure looks like she’d be interested in one. She’s all but lappin’ you up.”

  Reiner glanced across the room. When she’d sashayed in a bit ago, she’d made darned sure he saw her. “Didn’t she marry Ron Crandall right after high school?”

  “First time,” Tim said.

  Reiner stopped with the bottle halfway to his mouth. “How many times she been married?”

  “Three.” Tim rattled off her exes.

  “Jeez!” Reiner made a face.

  “Yeah.”

  “Think I’ll pass on that one.” His eyes ran over the tight little body in jeans shorts and a halter-top. She had a weary face, though, beneath the make-up.

  He thought of Katie Sara’s soft eyes, even softer lips and how sweet she’d smelled. She’d never raised her voice to him...before tonight. What a butt-kicking temper she’d developed.

  It would be good to keep a wide berth around both women. He turned away from Gina and took another swig of beer.

  “Anyway, figured I’d come out and celebrate my last night of freedom.”

  “Celebratin’? That’s why the black scowl when we walked in?” Rocco asked.

  Reiner kicked at the chair, took another drink. Try as he might, he couldn’t let go of his mad at Katie Sara.

  “Let’s play some pool,” Tim said.

  A few games and still more drinks later, the scent caressed him first. A deep, sexy, come-get-me smell. A low-growl-in-the-throat smell.

  The laugh was every bit as sexy. “Hey, lover boy. Been a long, long time.”

  With that, Gina Altenburg Crandall Smith Denlinger wrapped herself around his back. He tugged her to face him, and she laughed. Fingers running through his hair, she caught his mouth with hers.

  Surprised, he started to draw away, then gave in to it, and gave back as good as he got. His hands went around her waist, and he drew her to him.

  To hell with Katie Sara. She didn’t want him. Fine. Then he didn’t want her.

  In about fifteen hours, he’d be playing daddy. Why not make the most of tonight?

  When they came up for air, he laughed. “Where you been keepin’ yourself, Ms. Gina? A man could get mighty lonesome waitin’ for you.”

  “How’s Stevie?” Tim asked.

  Gina shot him a drop-dead glare. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “No, guess not.” Tim refused to be intimidated. “It’s been a couple months now since he left. Divorce final yet?”

  Gina’s face darkened. “I left him.” Her voice could have frozen the midday sun. “And, yes, Father Tim, the divorce is final!”

  “Father Tim?” Reiner grinned, his head swiveling back and forth between the two.

  “Oh, he might as well be a man of the cloth, he’s so all-fired self-righteous. You want Reiner to know I’m newly divorced, go on and tell him.” She cuddled closer and slid a hand between the buttons of his shirt. “Just means I’m hungry, and I’ve got me some experience. He’ll benefit from both, believe me.”

  When Tim opened his mouth again, Reiner shook his head. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” He cocked a brow. “I don’t mess around with married women, though, so...”

  “I’m not!”

  Rocco and Tim traded frustrated looks. Gina smirked, then settled against Reiner for a pool lesson.

  Time rolled over on itself and lost meaning.

  Humid night air hit Reiner when the door opened again to a guy who looked vaguely familiar. He tipped his head at their group, then sidled up to the bar for a beer. Reiner’s head felt fuzzy. He’d had too much to drink. Not his fault, though. It was that little witch’s. Hers and that flimsy excuse of a dress she’d worn tonight. All virginal white, buttoned up prim and proper, but light enough to blow away in a good breeze. It tempted a man to peek at what lay beneath.

  He squinted at the clock. The damn thing danced around on the wall like a wide receiver after catching a touchdown pass, but he finally nailed it down. Almost midnight. Empty bottles littered their table. So how come Rocco and Tim weren’t shit-faced like him?

  But that was okay ’because he didn’t think about Katie Sara when he was like this, did he?

  Gina laid her pool cue across the table and plastered herself against him. A person couldn’t have slid a postcard between them. That was okay, too. The woman had curves in all the right places. So there, Katie Sara!

  “I need to go home,” he said. “I’m drinkin’, you’re drinkin’—”

  “Not tonight.” She hoisted her glass. “I have to get up early tomorrow, so I’m drinkin’ rum and Coke without the rum. I’ve got my own beauty shop now, you know. Gina’s Hair Salon.”

  “Hot damn!” He gave her a quick celebratory kiss. “Regular little entrepreneur, aren’t you?
”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “An entra—what? You makin’ fun of me, Reiner Broderick?”

  He blinked. “Ah... That was a compliment. Why don’t you come back to the house with me, so I can show you just how proud of you I am?” He dropped a couple of kisses behind her ear, knowing somewhere in his foggy brain he was doing something he’d regret.

  Tim laid a hand on his arm. “I only had the one beer when we came in, Reiner. Why don’t I take you home?”

  “Gina’s gonna do that, aren’t you, hon?”

  “Sure am,” she purred. “Going to tuck you into bed, too, sugar.”

  Rocco and Tim exchanged nervous glances.

  Rocco cleared his throat. “Um, Reiner, could I talk to you for a minute?”

  Smiling, he swayed. “Sure.”

  “Privately.”

  “No. I’m tired. Time to go home.” He flipped his keys to Gina, who caught them neatly.

  “Bye, boys.” She threw them a smug look. “You lose.”

  Reiner’s brow furrowed, but before he could figure out what she meant and why Rocco and Tim seemed so upset, she threaded her arm through his and led him outside, her body warm and soft against his.

  When they reached his car, Gina ran a manicured hand over its sleek red body. “Holy Toledo! This thing must’ve cost a fortune!”

  He leaned unsteadily against it for a few seconds, then folded his long-legged body into the passenger side.

  “You’re really going to let me drive?”

  “Got a license, don’t you?”

  “’Course I do.”

  “Can you work a stick?”

  “Like a pro.”

  “Then yeah, you drive.” He laid his head back and stared groggily at the stars. “Hope you know where I live.”

  Gina laughed and slid behind the wheel. “Honey, there’s not a person within sixty miles of here doesn’t know you bought the doc’s house. Everyone’s been dyin’ to get a peek inside to see what that fancy interior decorator and all them workmen did. You plannin’ a big housewarmin’ party?”

  “Uh-huh, sure.”

  Gina revved the engine and shot out onto the street, the heavy metal CD blasting. She saluted Tim and Rocco, who stood beside Tim’s open Jeep, looking none too happy.