by Flora Burgos
“Engine trouble?”
His voice was raspy and sexy in a way that scrambled my thoughts and caused my belly to flutter and thighs to quiver, so when I spoke, of course I sounded ridiculous. “Um, well, I think so? My car just kinda coughed and then died, and I had just enough momentum to pull it to the shoulder. I, ah, popped the hood, but I have to be honest with you. I know how to put gas in my car and run it through the car wash, but that’s about it. I just pay someone else to see to the rest of it.”
The biker took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and I watched as he shook one out while I was speaking. I thought I saw his lips curl up as he lit his square silver lighter and held the flame to the tip. He closed the lighter and put it away and then brought his hand up to take the lit cigarette from his mouth and spoke on his exhale.
“Let’s see what you got going on here.”
As he approached my car, the giant teddy bear in my backseat let out a warning bark accompanied with a low growl. The biker paused for a second in his stride to the front of my car while I hushed Zeus.
“It’s ok, baby. He’s helping Mommy with her car. Just relax, big guy; we’ll be out of here shortly.”
One of the big guys (human this time) gave a bark of a laugh in surprise, and I quickly looked his way.
“Big-ass dog. You from around here?”
“Nope, not even close. We’re taking a hiatus of sorts and made our way here in a roundabout way from Seattle.”
“Ahh. You sticking around today and got a place to stay tonight?”
“Not really, I didn’t know where we would end up tonight, so I just planned to catch a few in my car.”
“Alright, let’s take a look. Hop in and try to turn her over.”
I did as I was told, but when I opened the door, I had to push the enthusiastic dog back into the backseat, and as I was bent over, the tail of my shirt raised and I felt cool air hit my skin as the man pulled my pistol from my waistband. My heart stuttered in panic as I felt him pull it free, but as I jerked around as quickly as I could in my panicked state, I saw that he was simply holding the weapon out with his hand on the barrel for me to take the butt.
“Better mind that gun before you shoot yourself.” If I wasn’t mistaken, this stranger was chastising me.
I snatched the gun from his hand and rested my pointer finger along the barrel while holding it at my side. My chest was rapidly rising and falling with adrenalin, and I was dizzy with relief that he hadn’t turned it on me. I hopped in my car, slightly miffed, and he walked back to the front, so I sat the gun down in my passenger seat and put my foot on the break.
“Turn her over,” he said to me.
I turned the key, and the car made a gurgling noise while it turned over and over, not catching.
“Whoa,” he shouted back to me over the noise, “hang on a sec!”
I let go of the key, took my foot off the brake, and waited for his next command.
He fiddled with some stuff under the hood and then shouted back to me, “Ok, try it again!”
When I turned the key this time, the engine made a weird sound and then finally, finally caught.
“Woo-hoo!” I shouted and I did a little boogie in my seat, to which my boy barked in excitement.
I hopped out of the car and slammed the door, and in my excitement, I ran to and then threw my arms around the big, muscled, hairy bulk of a man who only a few moments ago had me quaking in my Converse. The man in question stiffened in my embrace in surprise and then gave me an awkward back pat before I released him, embarrassment finally sinking in.
“Sorry! I was convinced Sally would never purr again! I owe you big, huge, whatever you want! My firstborn? Yours. My eternal gratitude? Yours. Oh! I can give you the change in my console! I’m not carrying cash, so I can’t give you that, but anything else is yours!” I turned to my car to gather the change I had to offer him for his kindness but he stopped me with his words.
“Sweetness, I don’t want anything. Anyone who drove past you would have stopped. You get into town and get somewhere safe, and that’ll work as repayment. You don’t need to be sleeping in your car, especially not in this town, regardless of the loaded pistol and big-ass scary-looking dog.”
“You got it. I’ll stop at the first motel I come across and book it for tonight!” I motioned as if I were checking it off an invisible to-do list.
The biker stepped back and took me in in the glow of the morning sun. I’m sure I looked a sight, what with my hair pulled up in a sloppy bun, wearing an oversized Henley, my flannel pajama shorts paired with my hot-pink Converse, and driving a convertible Mustang with a loud, drooling Pitbull in the small and cramped backseat. He gave a headshake and stuck out his hand, offering to shake mine while saying, “I’m headed into town myself and can follow you to one of the motels to be certain you don’t break down again. You’re going to need someone to take a look at your car before you attempt to go any further because I’m thinking you need a new fuel pump. Name’s Jinx, by the way.”
I held my palm out and took his while saying, “Thank you for everything, Jinx. I’m Roxanne.”
After he released my hand, I paused awkwardly, staring at him, and then my brain kicked in and I hopped back in the car and started off once again in the direction I had been aiming. After a moment, I heard the loud bike roar to life and watched in the rearview mirror as the seriously sexy man who had magically, even if temporarily, fixed my car, followed me to the city limits. Looking back as I pulled into the parking lot of the first decent-looking motel I came across, I saw the man give a low wave before he roared off.
Part of my, a big part, wanted to follow him to wherever he went and throw myself at him; but, sanity prevailed and I instead put my car into park.
He had no idea that I waited only moments after he pulled away before I pulled out of the parking lot and headed the same direction he took, hoping to find somewhere along the beach where I could pull off and park to catch some sleep before the city came fully awake and I had to move once more.
Chapter Two
Roxanne
I should have known that if I ever saw the sexy biker again, it would be under equally embarrassing circumstances. It was just my luck.
So when I rolled into Double M Bikes, Auto & Diesel, a garage recommended to me by an older man with long, scruffy gray hair who was sitting on the seawall smoking what I was fairly certain was a joint, while I was taking my boy for a walk this morning, I was wearing the only clean clothes I owned—which just so happened to be cutoff shorts, my hot-pink Converse, and a tank that read “Sun’s out, Guns out” and had a tear on the side where I had the fabric twisted into a knot (also known as my laundry-day outfit,) my hair was in a ratty bun that hadn’t seen a brush in a good twenty-four hours, and I had not a trace of makeup with my huge Dollar Store sunglasses covering my eyes—and the scary-looking guy at the front desk called out when I walked through the door, “Yo, darlin’, what can I do for you?” I had no idea that my life was about to be set onto another path.
If the day Norm was arrested had set me on my course, then today was the precipice where it all changed once more. Although truthfully, I suppose you could say that had actually happened last night and at an ungodly hour this morning.
I mean, honestly, I was just minding my business when my life was thrown off its axis.
I made my way to him feeling awkward and kind of insecure when I spoke up, “I had some car trouble last night. I think the guy said it was my fuel gauge or gas pump thingy or something? Anyways, I need to get someone to take a look at it and see if you all can figure out what the problem is and how much it’s going to cost. I, ah, don’t have much cash on me, so I need to see where I am cost wise before I commit. Is that, like, a thing? Can you triage my car for me?”
He started to speak as the door that led from the car bays into the lobby opened, and I heard a vaguely familiar voice call out, “We got a callout to tow one in, and I ain’t got the time. Gonn
a need you to take care of that, yeah?” The guy who had opened his mouth to speak turned toward the door and instead answered the male speaker.
“Sure thing. We got someone here who needs a triage”—I swear he snickered here—“on her ride. Says it’s the fuel gauge or gas pump thingy; she’s not sure which.”
As he spoke, the face behind that familiar voice came around the corner, and I got my first eyeful of Jinx in the daylight. Man, oh man, was he gorgeous, which for some reason caused me to become a stupefied drooling mess. Those flutters from the night before felt like they had taken a massive dose of performance-enhancing drugs and were now massive gargoyles.
“Didn’t expect to see you but glad to see you brought your car in like I told you.”
I’m pretty sure I was supposed to respond here, but hello, I was in a sexy trance or something. You know those commercials where the chick swings her hair in slow motion? Yeah, it felt exactly like that apart from the fact he was no longer moving and I was staring still in awe of him and not saying a word or even so much as daring to breathe.
“Yo,” he called. “Sweetness?” he tried again.
Nada.
Finally, it was my name said on a laugh that snapped me out of it. “Roxanne?”
Of course, my reaction wasn’t lost on anyone, so the other guy was snickering again, and I had to do a quick chin swipe to make sure I wasn’t drooling. Which only served to embarrass me further. My mortification knew no ends, but finally I just set my shoulders and sallied forth.
“Hey, Jinx. Um, you said something about my gas thingy, so I wanted to bring it in and see what’s going on and how much I was going to have to save up in order to afford the fix.”
Jinx froze for a second, and then I saw his bearded face break into a smile.
“Yeah, Sweetness, your gas thingy.”
I could tell he was laughing at me, which made me even more embarrassed, so I copped a bit of an attitude when I responded with, “Yeah, that. So, can you do that, or should I go somewhere else?”
“You got that monster in your ride? Cuz if so, I gotta tell you, none of the boys are gonna feel real safe messing around with it.”
“My baby is not a monster! He is a sweetheart and loves his mommy.”
“Yeah, sweetheart Pit-fuckin-bull. I’m sure he’ll lick you to death, yeah? Those barks and growls this morning coming from your backseat an offer of friendship?”
Now he was pissing me off. Nothing got to me quicker than someone judging my guy because of their own bias. Goodbye, gargoyle flutters; hello, snarling mama bear. “I will have you know that I rescued him from my ex, who just so happened to be a drug dealer. He brought him home and mentioned a dog fighting ring, but I didn’t believe him, so when I saw the dog bloody and hurt a few days later, I stole him and swore to the stupid ex that I had no idea what happened. And just FYI, it was not easy to keep him from coming to my house as I was hiding his “prize fighter” there.” Whoops! Word vomit.
He gaped at me for a second, jaw hanging, before he threw his head back and roared in laughter, “Sweetness, there is a lot there that needs some explainin’, but for now, yes or no, you got that monster in your car, or is it terrorizing the girls down at the motel?”
“Yes, of course, I have him in my car. Would you leave your children alone in a strange motel room?” I snapped at him.
“I don’t have kids, four-legged or otherwise; and just saying, I wouldn’t leave ‘em in the car if I did. Now, what did you plan to do with the unholy terror while we look at your car?”
“I’m going to take him for a walk. Get acquainted with the area and maybe see if I can find somewhere that sells ice cream and get a job making a little cash to spend on getting my car fixed. I don’t like to make plans, so besides that I’ve got nothing.”
“Right. Well, Sweetness, get the monster out and toss me your keys, and I’ll take another look. Gotta say, though, that I’m pretty certain I know what’s wrong, and a fuel pump even at cost is gonna cost a fuckin whack. You keep hobbling along, and it’s gonna give out on you in a permanent sort of way, and you and your monster will be hoofing it.”
I looked up at the ceiling and prayed for some patience before giving up and instead yelling at him. “My baby is not a monster, and my name is Roxanne, not Sweetness!” I almost stomped my foot before I thought better of it. Of course, the big freaking jerk laughed again.
Jinx followed me out to the car, so I could get Zeus out and hand him the keys. Since he was well trained, all I had to do was open the door, push the driver’s seat forward, and say, “Come.” He calmly exited the car and stood at my feet, tail wagging, leash dragging on the ground. I reached down and picked it up, slipping my right hand through the loop, and said, “Sit.” His large doggie bottom dropped to the pavement, and his tail wagged lazily as he waited to see what I would say next.
Jinx let out a low whistle, and when I met his eyes, he was giving me an appraising look. “Little thing like you, and that dog looks like he’s seen death up close and personal, not to mention he has got to outweigh you by a good twenty-five pounds, yet there he is, happy as a clam.”
“I tried to tell you he isn’t a monster. He’s a very well-trained and intelligent guy and will do whatever I ask of him.”
“So, how on earth did you rescue it from the druggie ex with a dog fighting ring and then get ‘im trained so well?”
I debated blowing off his question, but that word vomit erupted again, so I found myself saying, “About a year and a half ago, druggie ex, AKA Norman, was locked up because his little habit got him busted, so I finished my classes, graduated, packed my shit, and hit the road. I found out in the first five hundred miles that keeping a high-energy animal cooped up with no manners was just not going to cut it, so we had a two-month stay over in Missoula, where I worked him with a K-9 trainer until he got to the point that I could work with him solo, and we took off again. The next several months, I worked with him every time we stopped. And even if you don’t know where you’re going, you still have to stop for bathroom breaks, gas, food, and the occasional temporary gig for cash. And now we’ve been on the road a while and are perfectly content.”
“So, you set out with your degree, big-ass dog, and essentially the clothes on your back? How does that work? No family looking for you?”
I let out a bitter laugh. I wasn’t used to discussing my family or lack thereof. It was intrusive and quite frankly none of his business. I had really told him too much already, but I answered regardless. “I came up in the system. No family to speak of, stumbled into a relationship with the local drug lord at my last high school and couldn’t get out of it. Waited till he was locked up and got the hell outta there.”
Jinx’s jaw had hardened while I was talking. I had no clue why. I waited, suddenly feeling nervous and unsure what his body language was saying, but it freaked me way the hell out.
After several tense moments, he spoke, and it wasn’t anything I could have expected. “Degree?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You got your degree?”
“Umm, yeah?”
“In?”
“What?”
“Degree, Sweetness. What’s it in?”
“Liberal Arts.”
“What’s the fuckin point of that?”
“Well, free college and no real idea about what I wanted to be when I grew up?”
His lips twitched before once again going severe, and he asked, “How long have you paid up at the motel?”
Now, that was something I was not responding to. I didn’t know much about him, but that was more personal that I was willing to get and not really any of his business for that matter. Taking a moment to think about it, I had no clue why I had revealed everything I had to him in the short time I had known him. Now I was questioning the decision to tell him that I was essentially alone in the world except for a drooling overweight dog.
“Why are you asking me these questions? If I die, there are still peo
ple who will be looking for me.” Not that I want them to find me, I added mentally.
His angry expression had disappeared, and suddenly he looked on the verge of laughter again, “Sweetness. How long are you paid up at the motel?”
I answered without considering it any further, “I’m covered for a couple of weeks if I need it.” Lies.
“Right. Well, seeing as the monster is behaving, you need a way to make some money, and I got a way for you to do that, you fill out one of the applications we got behind the counter and start greeting people when they walk in and scheduling them, and Friday you can have your first paycheck. Also, I got a house that has a spare room you can stay in and that monster”—this time he put extra emphasis on that word—“can stay with you as long as he don’t tear shit up and is house broken.”
I stared at this man who for all his good looks had to be a stark raving lunatic, because who in the heck would offer a random woman not only a job but a room to stay in, for what I was assuming would be free? And could I look any rattier than I did today? Yeah, possibly this morning when he saw me stranded on the side of the road. For all this man knew, I may not even own any decent clothes!
“Sweetness, you with me?”
“Roxanne,” I corrected automatically while lost in thought.
“Pardon?” he asked, bewildered.
And then came the freak-out. I sputtered out in shock, “I don’t know you! I can’t live with you! And if you’re going to offer a random stranger a job and a room in your home, you should at least call her by her name. Mine is Roxanne.”
“Serious as shit, I’m giving you a way out, and you want to give me shit over what I call you? My brother lives there too, so you won’t be stuck alone with me, at least not always. He’s a trucker, so he’s gone a fair bit. Now, are you getting behind the counter or what?”
“Dude, do you even see what I’m wearing? This is not the proper office attire. Like, at all.”
“Don’t call me dude and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’re wearing, so do you want the job or not?”
