by Amber Burns
I snorted and fished one out of my back pocket before I offered it to him. I watched Madi curiously as she waited patiently for the slip of paper that said she had done her job. Teddy handed it over before giving me a look, “Alright, you got your shit. You can go.”
“Th-thank you,” she stuttered.
“You’re such a gentleman, Teddy,” I grumbled as I opened the office door.
“Tell that to my soon to be ex-wife,” he gave me the one-fingered salute before he turned back to the papers on the desk before him.
I’d have to check on him later, but first, there was something more important. I ushered Madi out of the office and closed the door behind us.
“Sorry about that,” I apologized on Teddy’s behalf. “He’s usually like a teddy bear and not so damn ornery.”
She cleared her throat and had my full attention, “The reaction was appropriate. I assume you don’t understand because you’ve not been in his position. There’s nothing pleasant about getting served divorce papers.”
She carefully folded the paper that held Teddy’s signature. She fidgeted and made no effort to meet my gaze. Her shyness appealed to me in a way I didn’t understand, but I wanted to explore just how shy and innocent she was. Only, I wasn’t that much of an asshole that I would push her out of her comfort zone in a public place.
“Divorce,” she began again as I walked her through the bar. “Is not a pleasant thing.”
“I guess I’ll find out with the way Teddy handles it,” I made sure to hold the door open that led outside for her. I would be a perfect gentleman even if I didn’t look it. “Hopefully it’s not something I’ll ever find out about first hand.” I followed her to her car, and I couldn’t tell whether or not I was making her uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” she said uneasily, speaking without stumbling over her words. “I appreciate your help.”
I guess being outside must be helping. Maybe it was the fact that there were fewer people out here. She went to her car door and opened it, getting ready to drive off, and I’d probably never see her again.
Fuck that. I told myself. Not gonna have that.
I stood at the front of her car and gave the hood a slight knock, “This thing is running funny. You need to get it looked at.”
I got a deer caught in headlights look from her again. She shook her head before dropping her gaze from mine.
“I don’t have the money for a mechanic right now,” she frowned, and I felt like an ass for pointing it out. “I know it sounds bad, I keep putting it off in hopes it’ll last me a little bit longer.”
“Well,” I tried to give her my best grin. “It’s your lucky day, sweetcheeks. I just so happen to work on engines. You take me to lunch, and I’ll take a look at your car free of charge.”
“I thought if I told you my name you weren’t going to call me that,” she looked at me again, her brows drawing down together and the look she gave me wanted me to tug her out of her shell. There was potential here with her, and I definitely couldn’t let her get away.
“Force of habit,” I shrugged. “It means you have a nice ass. If it bothers you, we’re good with me calling you Madi, right?”
She did have a nice ass, from what I could tell with the clothes that she wore. They weren’t tight and didn’t show off her figure, I had to use my imagination. Her face flushed as I translated and I leaned forward onto the hood of her car.
“M-madi’s fine.”
“Am I gonna get lunch out of you to look at your car?”
She looked hesitant, and I was afraid that I lost my chance with her. She pulled out her phone from her bag and looked at it, “I take lunch at one.”
I took the opportunity to pull my own phone from a pocket and offered it to her, “Gimme your number, and we can arrange for me to give your car the once over and see what it takes to get it fixed.”
She looked uncertain, but took my phone and swiped it to the contacts. I watched as she programmed her name and number into it before she offered it back to me.
“Do you have an idea what it is?” she asked.
“It could be your transmission,” I said honestly as I took my phone and gave the phone number she put in there a text. I kept it simple, a ‘hi beautiful’ seemed to be just enough. “Have you had any problems shifting gears or anything like that?”
She jumped a little, her phone vibrating. It let me know she got my message, especially when she turned pink.
“Not that I’ve noticed. The only thing I’ve noticed is the funny noise.”
That didn’t say a lot. Sometimes when it came to cars women tended to ignore a lot.
“Okay, we’ll see when I get the chance to look at it. Text me,” I said seriously as I put my phone away. “I am holding you to this lunch thing. I’d like to look at this,” I tapped at the hood of her car. “Today if you don’t mind.”
“I get off of work at five,” she shifted from foot to foot. “I need to get back. Thank you, I-I guess I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Yep.”
I watched her sit, and I stepped away from her car. She pulled out, and I checked my phone for the time. I had a couple of hours to wait to see her again. I was gonna be antsy. I went back to the building with my phone in my hand, pulling up a website on the make of her car. I was hoping that it wasn’t the transmission. Maybe it just needed to be flushed.
“Did you get a date out of that girl?” Jimmy asked standing just outside of the bar door. “Man, I didn’t know you had skills.”
“I got skills,” I said without looking from my phone. “This limp ain’t just from an IED, son. My dick is so big it affects the way I walk.” I nudged him with my shoulder, “Women recognize it and want to get a piece.”
“You’re so full of shit,” he shook his head with a laugh.
“Blue eyes, dude,” I pulled on my cheek to emphasize my eye color. “I ain’t full of shit. Unlike your brown eyed ass. My dick is so big I could win a three legged race by myself.”
He laughed louder at that, “With the way you hobble around here I doubt it.” He pulled a cigarette out from the stash he had rolled up in his sleeve. He offered me one, but I waved it off. I was on a fixed income and couldn’t really afford a vice like smoking. “How’d you manage to talk her into seeing you?”
I shrugged and leaned back against the building, standing beside him. “You gotta question these good looks,” I gestured to himself and gave the beard I had a slight tug. “Honestly, grow yourself one of these and women will throw themselves at you.”
He scratched his chin and jaw like he was contemplating my advice, “I got peach fuzz right now.”
“It’s a work in progress,” I patted his shoulder. “Grow a beard and the women will come.”
“Got any work to do today,” he stuck the cigarette in his mouth and let it dangle from his lip as he spoke. “Or is it a day off and you’re just so fucking sad that you got nowhere to go?”
“Motherfucker I gotta lunch date,” I straightened and wavered on my feet slightly, a spasm started at the small of my back, and I gritted my teeth to keep from cursing more. “I ain’t sad. I’m fucking ecstatic.”
“I got a friend that just picked up a piece of shit bike that needs work,” he cut in, apparently not seeing me falter or he didn’t care. “He’s willing to pay.”
I took a breath through my teeth as I tried to shake off the pain. “So he’s not a part of the club?”
Jimmy shook his head, “He’s never served. Unless Ted and Wilson are considering taking in civis? Then I’ll definitely vouch for the guy..”
“You haven’t been patched in yet, dude,” I shrugged then stretched, trying to get some relief as I reached my hands up to hit the roof’s overhang. “I got no problems looking at the guy’s bike. All my tools are here, so he’ll have to bring it here. You’ll have to okay that with Teddy,” I turned to go inside, deciding I’d need a to take something and maybe sit down with my trusty tens unit for some much-needed relief
. “I got plans for today, but I could probably see the guy before five.”
Jimmy pulled something out of his pocket and offered it to me. It took me a second to realize it was money. “I’ll send him a text to be here at three, so you can give it a good look. Then you can make a list of parts you might need so he can get them for you.”
I took the money, and my eyebrows rose, the kid gave me two hundred just for saying I’d look at his friend's bike.
“Where’d you get this?” I questioned.
“Side jobs, man,” he smirked at me. “If Teddy wasn’t protecting your disability claim you could do them, too.” He opened the door for me, cigarette still on his lip, “You do me this favor, and I’ll pay you three hundred more if you get his bike fixed.”
“Is it a project bike?”
“Nah, I think he dropped it or some shit. It doesn’t look like it really needs body work, but the engine is definitely fucked,” he shrugged. “You’ll probably be able to tell when you look at it.”
I nodded as I went inside, stuffing the money he gave me into a pocket and deciding it’s better to get relief then to question him. The spasms shifted lower, and I had about two hours to get some sense of normality before I tried to get Madi’s attention.
Girls dig oily guys, right?
3
After a few pills and nearly an hour with a tens unit taped to my lower back, the pulsing aches faded to a more tolerable level. I went to the men’s room to get myself cleaned up and try my best to make an impression. I combed out the beard and did my best to make my growing mop of hair settle down. I couldn’t keep it too long, but it was getting shaggy. Luckily I didn’t look beastly like some of the guys that rolled through here. Covered in tattoos, I was definitely the exact opposite of Madi. She looked the picture of innocence and the way she stuttered and fidgeted, I had to wonder if she had ever had a man’s attention before. I’d figure it out.
I got a text from her that gave me about thirty minutes to get to her. It was an address, and that’s about it. No ‘hi how are you?’ or any kind of small talk. Damn, she knew how to shoot a guy’s ego down a notch. I didn’t let it get to me. I saddled up on my bike, put my helmet on, and kicked my baby into a roar. The ride to the address she gave me was a short fifteen minutes, but the rumble and vibrations of the motorcycle between my legs were enough to help the achiness.
By the time I got there, I was high from the breeze that I had ridden through, and I was just basking in the fact that it had been such a great day to go for a ride. I wonder what the chances were that I could talk Madi on to the back of my bike. It was a tempting thought that I would definite be taking a shot at. I pulled up to a curb about a block from the address she gave me. I lugged my helmet off and stowed it into a saddlebag and stretched my legs.
I walked the rest of the way, letting my phone direct me until I spotted Madi sitting on the outside under a building canopy in a little area that has a wrought iron fence. I made a beeline for her, not even caring about the restaurant that she had picked out. She was sitting by herself at little metal dinette set, looking a picture of innocence. She looked like she did the last two times I’d seen her, someone that tried to blend in and downplay their beauty. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face, which was covered by thick glasses, and she wore neutral colors. She was someone that was used to being in the background. I stood outside the little gate for maybe five minutes just looking at her before she seemed to notice me. She had a book with her, instead of doing what everyone else was doing, looking at their phones, she was looking at a book.
“Do they even make books anymore?" I asked myself.
Her eyes shot up to mine, and I was blown by how green her eyes were. She looked surprised to see me, and she immediately closed her book and shoved it into her bag, “Yes. They still make books.”
I tried to look cool by climbing over the wrought iron gate, and I immediately regretted it. I managed it, but by the time I got to her table I entire left leg was throbbing and the spasms in my back came back with force. I bit my lip to keep from cursing and slowly sat down in the chair.
“Well, I tried to look cool, and I ended up looking like a jackass,” I admitted with a wince.
Her brows were drawn up, and she seemed to have gathered that I was hurting.
“Um, it would have been impressive if you didn’t suddenly look like you pulled an important muscle,” she gave him a sympathetic smile.
Regardless of the pity, I did manage to get a smile out of her.
“I wish it was just a muscle I pulled,” I shifted in the chair and struggled to get comfortable. “So,” I took a breath as I tried to think past the throbbing and pain. “I didn’t even pay attention to this place. What kind of food does it offer?”
“It’s kind of like an upscale deli, they have great sandwiches and wraps,” she eyed me curiously as if she could see me suffering.
“Awesome,” I nodded and tried to focus on her. “Your car still running?”
She nodded and offered me her menu. I took it and pretended to scope it out as I tried to think of something to say to this girl.
“So, my occupations is pretty obvious. What do you do? You a lawyer?”
“No,” she shook her head as she spoke, her hair not shifting a bit as she did. That was impressive, it was either wound tight, or she had a heavy coat of hair spray. “I’m a paralegal, I work for a law firm that’s about two blocks from here.”
“So you walked here for lunch?”
She shrugged, looking awkward as she nodded. “It’s a pretty day.”
“It sure the hell is,” I grinned as I spotted a waitress coming our way. “It’s a perfect day for a bike right,” and despite the fact that I was in pain slowly edging into agony, I kept on. “If you’d like to go for a ride after work I’d love to take you around town on my bike.”
Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open for a second, I didn’t know if she was even thinking about the idea. I shifted forward to lean against the table waiting for her to say something. The waitress didn’t give us the chance to explore the conversation.
“Hey there,” the waitress said as she gave me the once over. “You guys know what you want?”
I nodded towards Madi, “Ladies first.”
That wasn’t just a matter of being polite, it was more along the lines of not having a clue as to what I wanted. So, I’d play it cool and order what Madi ordered. She didn’t bat an eye when I did. As soon as the waitress left us, I shifted around in the metal chair again.
“So, about that ride?” I grinned at her to see if she’d bite.
“Motorcycles are dangerous,” she looked away from me and seemed to struggle with an excuse. I knew at the first look that she wasn’t that kind of girl, but most chicks had a wild side. Maybe this one did, too. “Over four thousand people die in motorcycle accidents each year,” she looked at me then, a seriousness in her green eyes, and it almost looked like she was worried about me. “You’re not going to turn into a statistic, are you? Are you a part of a motorcycle gang? That does explain all the tattoos.” Now I got the feeling she was talking less to me and more to herself. “I can’t get caught up in someone that does illegal things.”
I cleared my throat to get her attention.
“Key to avoiding a wreck is paying attention because nine times out of ten the guy driving a car isn’t. Wear a helmet and have a good life insurance policy, it’s the best I can do.” I shrugged, not trying to make it nonchalant but being in an accident wasn’t something I worried about. “I’m not in a gang, they’re called clubs, so you know. The tattoos… well,” I gave her another cheesy grin and twisted one arm so she could look at the sleeve. “Once you get one you have to get more then eventually you end up covered.”
“So, that bar you were at was a motorcycle club?” she looked doubtful, like she expected me to be some kind of gang banger. I never thought I looked the part.
I shook my head, amused. “Yea, but probably n
ot how you think it is. We’re all veterans and retirees. So everybody there served in the military in one way or another. It’s more of a support group and less illegal shit.”
“Oh,” something about admitting what the Brotherhood was about seemed to have eased some discomfort with her. She relaxed in her seat, and I could see curiosity evident on her face. I had her full attention, now. “So you served?”
“Yep,” I did a mock salute, hoping that it wouldn’t make this a serious conversation. “Nine years and two combat tours in Iraq as an Army engine mechanic.”
“That’s why you want to look at my car?” Clarity was on her expression as she studied me.
“Well, it was more along the lines of there being a pretty girl driving a car that sounded rough,” I didn’t see a reason to beat around the bush. Maybe if I made my interest obvious, it would help my chances. “I figured if I did some work on your car maybe that’d give you reason enough to want to hang around with me. Maybe one day I might talk you onto the back of my bike and get you for keeps,” I gave her a wink.
