Beauty & the Biker

by Beth Ciotta

  Angel frowned. “I don’t want him to call.”

  “Why not? You said it yourself. Ryan’s handsome and responsible and—”

  “I’m jinxed.”

  “What?”

  “I’m serious, Chrissy. I don’t want to encourage Ryan’s interest in any way. If you’re playing matchmaker here, please stop. And don’t fan his infatuation or curiosity or whatever it is because I can’t go there.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can’t believe this. How long… No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Dammit.” She poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one swallow. “Who else did Ryan confide in? Zeke? Georgie?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt he told anyone. He didn’t confide in me, as you put it. He slipped. A one-time mention that he told me to forget.”

  “I wish you would have taken his advice.”

  “Sorry.” Really she was. “It—”

  “Slipped. Got it. Let’s just…forget it.”

  “Can you?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  Chrissy watched while Angel threw back the rest of her wine, confused as to why she was so upset. Bothered by her “jinxed” reference. Angel rarely mentioned the rumors pertaining to her twice widowed status. Marrying Angel is the kiss of death—literally. A totally ridiculous crack, so why take it to heart? But apparently, she did.

  “I like my hair,” Chrissy said, feeling like an ass for giving up Ryan’s secret and causing Angel distress. Now her friend would no doubt feel awkward every time she and the good sheriff came face to face. Ryan would notice and eventually Chrissy would have to admit her indiscretion. Damn.

  Angel rolled back her shoulders, shaking off talk of Ryan, and focusing on her efforts. “You look fabulous, if I do say so myself.”

  Grateful that Angel allowed her to change the subject, Chrissy made a show of mugging in the mirror. “I look edgy.”

  “Yup.”

  “And sort of hot.”

  “Mega hot.”

  Chrissy ruffled her silky choppy locks. The longest ends grazed her shoulders. Most ends stuck out every which way. Bold cut. Carefree aura. She smiled. “I did this for me, by the way, not a man. I’ve been in a rut.”

  “I think we’ve all been feeling that way lately. In some form or fashion. Hitting or nearing our thirties. Floundering or feeling unfulfilled. Like there must be more or should be more to life.”

  Chrissy gave a mental fist pump. Yes, yes, and yes. “Do you think Emma will really leave Nowhere?”

  “I think it’s inevitable.”

  “It would be pretty awesome if this thing with biker dude turned into a happily-ever-after for Bella.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  “If Georgie gets a job in Whitney, she’ll probably end up moving. Her car’s not up to the daily commute and she’s disillusioned with the dating scene in Nowhere.” Chrissy glanced at Angel who was pouring more wine. “Why do I feel like this is the beginning of the end for the Inseparables?”

  “Don’t think of it as the end,” Angel said as she passed a glass to Chrissy. “Think of it as evolution.”

  Progressive change. Change that would promote a better life for Melody and maybe more “me” time for Chrissy. Over the last week she’d become hyperaware of her cynical, bitter disposition. She felt ugly on the inside and indifferent on the surface. She’d taken a couple of small, positive steps today. Supporting Bella’s infatuation with Savage. Embracing a radical new haircut for herself.

  Feeling lighter in multiple ways, she smiled at her reflection then smiled even bigger at her friend. She clinked her glass to Angel’s, silently committing to a happy-ending for both of them. Somehow. Some way. Goodbye wallowing. “Viva evolution.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rather than sit downstairs and sulk, Bella gathered up her manuscripts, stuffed them back into her folder and traipsed upstairs to unpack. Unsettled by their harsh parting, she sporadically glanced out the window. She saw Savage speaking to her dad and then her dad puttering off on Little Red in the direction of Funland. She saw Savage slip into his studio, Killer trotting alongside. She expected him to roar out of the barn on his badass bike because he was sure in a funk.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, she assumed he’d turned his attention to the custom paint job Tank had sent his way. Like Bella, Savage seemed to take refuge and joy in creating magic. Another sign that they were well suited.

  As much as Bella was tempted to peek in, she kept her distance. Patience was key. She’d begun to liken Savage to a wounded animal. He’d been traumatized in some way and the only way to get close was to earn his trust. Respecting his boundaries seemed the swiftest course. As much as she wanted to pry, as much as she wanted to slap a bandage on his scraped and bruised soul, she’d let him come to her.

  She dialed up a country rock playlist on her iPod and resisted checking the clock as she transferred clothes from her suitcase and boxes to the closet and bureau. She set up her laptop on the desk in the corner. Unpacked a few linens and toiletries. She was placing a few late-night reads on the nightstand when she heard a knock.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Bella’s heart skipped at the sound of Savage’s voice. It skipped again when she turned and saw him standing on her threshold. Gorgeous and sexy and uncharacteristically hesitant. “Just making myself at home,” she said with a gentle smile.

  “I’m glad.” He angled his head, looking pleased, but perplexed. “No second thoughts?”

  “What? Just because you didn’t connect with my stories?” She’d been disappointed and, okay, a little hurt, but at least he hadn’t insinuated she was wasting her time. She’d been more concerned by his cynicism regarding children. “I appreciated your honesty.”

  “Your tolerance is staggering.” He ran one hand through his messy hair. “Let’s try this again.”

  He moved into her room and, thinking he wanted to talk, she muted her music. When she turned back he handed her a rolled page of heavy-weight paper. It looked like he’d torn it from a spiral-bound sketchpad. Bella’s heart pounded as she unfurled the paper.

  The drawing was exquisite.

  A pencil and charcoal rendering of a winged horse soaring through the air. Sitting astride the mighty creature was a fierce looking man wearing a dark, long coat that whipped behind him like a cape flapping in the wind. A sword with an intricate hilt was strapped on his back. She’d seen a similar image a dozen times in her minds-eye, but never with such vibrant intensity.

  “Pendragonites.” The title came out in an unintentional awed whisper.

  “What I read of that story stayed with me, so I guess I did connect.”

  “The super hero angle,” she assumed.

  “Who wouldn’t want super powers to vanquish evil?”

  Bella glanced from the art to its creator. Those haunted eyes. “The winged horse, he resembles your Avenging Angel. And the knight…” She glanced back to the enchanted crusader. “Not Sir Sheridan.” The knight that initially saves the heroine from an ogre. “But Sir Driscoll.” The knight who becomes the heroine’s champion and lover. “This is definitely Driscoll and he looks an awful lot like you.”

  Savage moved in and angled closer to examine his artwork. “I don’t see it.”

  Bella fixed her gaze on Savage’s dark and compelling face, but even more so, on his fierce albeit battered aura. “I do.” Her heart thudded in her ears, sounding somewhat like the thunderous wings of a Pegasus beating the air to take flight. “The way I wrote it, Sheridan had a flying horse, not Driscoll.”

  “There were only two chapters. Maybe you didn’t get to that part yet.”

  Thud. Thud. “Pendragonites isn’t a fairy tale per say. I mean it’s not for little kids. It’s a story for the young at heart.” She licked her lips. “A love story.”

  “A fairy tale with love and super heroes. Once upon a time in a castle in the air there lived a great King,” Savage recited. “He championed
goodness, truth, beauty, and tolerance.”

  “Wow,” Bella said, impressed by his memory as well as his mesmerizing voice. “It really did stay with you.”

  “Why are there only two chapters?” he asked.

  “Because I wrote it on a whim. It was a fleeting idea and I just sort of puked it out.”

  He smiled at that.

  “I was inspired and then I wasn’t.” She glanced back at his rendering. “But now, maybe I am.” Bella’s knees wobbled as Savage smoothed her hair from her face. “It’s a story about noble crusaders who lost their way,” she said. “It’s about finding redemption. And love.”

  “And kicking villainous ass.”

  “That, too,” she said while placing the precious artwork aside.

  “Finish the story, Bella.”

  “Why?” she croaked as he pulled her into his arms.

  “Because I want to believe.”

  Their mouths fused and Bella trembled with the intensity of his need. She felt this kiss to the depth of her soul and she knew, this time, they’d make love. She fairly shattered in anticipation, holding tight as Savage torched her senses with blazing passion.

  Smitten and seduced, Bella lost herself in an endless kiss, her bones liquefying as his hands smoothed over her arms, her back, her face. Time ceased and pleasure stretched on. Fabric slid against her skin, inch by inch, and suddenly she was naked and writhing beneath him in bed. “Make love to me, Joe.”

  “Patience, baby.” He reached over the side of the bed and nabbed a condom from his discarded jeans, some managing to sustain the level of sensuality.

  “Patience is overrated,” she rasped as he set her world on fire.

  Bella gloried in his buff body and practiced touch, her senses reeling as he worshiped her with his mouth—kissing, tasting, pleasuring. Moaning her approval as his strong hands slid over her naked curves—teasing, tempting.

  Coiled tight with desire, Bella cried out with need and suddenly he was moving inside her.

  Bliss.

  Her tortured knight rocked against her, urging her to let go.

  Instead, she clung. To him. To the moment.

  Believe in this, in us, in me.

  For once, reality trumped fantasy. Bella reveled in the raw emotions, the powerful sensations. She framed Joe’s face, searched his gaze and, felled by the fervent adoration in his eyes, lost her heart.

  Swept away.

  The world receded as she soared toward the stars. Higher and higher. Until her lungs burned and her will shattered.

  Her intense release left her utterly drained and disoriented.

  She held fast to her lover as she grappled for a coherent thought.

  She had no words. At least none that would adequately express her wonder.

  Savage rolled to his side, pulling Bella with him. His heart pounded in tandem with hers and little by little, breath by breath, her senses cleared.

  Amazing.

  She’d had fallen into bed with her potential dream partner expecting a hot and frenzied tumble. Joe Savage was alpha and tortured, sexy and intense. She’d assumed he’d approach lovemaking as he approached life—with intense focus. Demanding and dominating. What she’d gotten was slow and tender.

  Even now, even after, in the dazzling afterglow of sex, he kissed her softly, deeply, holding her close. She felt like a boneless ragdoll crushed against a mountain of man. How could someone so rugged be so gentle? How could a brief encounter feel like a game-changer?

  They’d been kissing and kissing and then he was inside her. No lengthy foreplay. No sexual gymnastics. Yet the earth had spun and rocked and she’d shattered.

  She might have been embarrassed by how quickly she’d climaxed if she weren’t so in awe. He’d been right behind her, his release as powerful as hers. She’d never felt anything like it and she was absolutely enthralled knowing lovemaking could be as soul stirring as she’d been led to believe.

  Bella shivered as his hands roamed her curves. Smiled when he whispered bawdy sweet talk in her ear. He was the sexiest, most perplexing and intriguing man she’d ever known and he’d set her world on fire.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “You don’t want to know. It’s sappy.”

  “I’m not familiar with sappy. I might like it.”

  She snuggled closer. “You set my world on fire,” she said plainly. “Rocketed me to places I’ve never been before. Now I know what it feels like to dance on the moon. How’s that for sappy?”

  “I like it.” He brushed his mouth over her forehead, swearing when his phone dinged. He nabbed it from the nightstand. “Text from your dad. He’s wrapping for the day.”

  Bella flushed head to naked toe. “I forgot he was here.”

  “My timing was off,” Savage said as he swung out of bed. “I didn’t plan… It just happened.”

  “I know. I was here.” She smiled as he nabbed his jeans. Nice butt. “Your timing was perfect. You were perfect. Beyond perfect.”

  He paused, turned and skimmed a gentle path over the curve of her jaw. “You’re easy to please.”

  “Not usually.” In her limited experience, usually sex was just okay. Not horrible. Not wonderful. And certainly not over the moon amazing. Savage had awakened a part of her she hadn’t known existed. “I won’t break, you know.” He’d been so sweet, so tender, as if it was her first time.

  “Feeling adventurous?”

  A shiver shimmied down her spine. “Let’s just say you inspire naughty thoughts.”

  He grinned at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He stole a kiss then eased away. “Get dressed. I’m taking you and your dad to an early dinner.”

  “You are?”

  “I am.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sex with Bella was as close as Joe had come to an out-of-body experience. The effects long-lasting because why the hell else would he invite Archie to dinner in response to making love to his daughter? Compromised senses were to blame. Although he did recognize one other culprit.

  Guilt.

  The man trusted Joe to behave like a gentleman and Joe had broken that trust on Bella’s first day in his house. While her father was on the damned property. At least he hadn’t indulged in any of his racier fantasies starring Princess Rainbow. He’d kept it simple. Two willing bodies. One tortured soul.

  Only now, it was complicated.

  Bella tightened her grip around Joe’s middle, pressing into him as he angled to make the turn off of Moon Creek Road. With her feet braced on the foot pegs, her thighs clamped against his, it felt like a full body hug. Logically he knew, as an inexperienced rider, she was anchoring herself but it felt like one of her hugs and it felt damned good. He felt comforted by her presence, inspired by her easy affection. No maybe about it. He’d fallen in love with the small town librarian. He wanted to feel good about that—even though he knew it was bad. They’d never work. Not long term. The kid thing. The one barrier Joe couldn’t see beyond.

  Determined to bask in the now, he reigned in his thoughts and adjusted his speed as they rolled into town. Traffic was heavier than he’d previously witnessed on a Sunday. He remembered then that this was the second and last day of the Arts and Fiddler Festival. There’d been an influx of people—some driving for hours to attend the popular event. Even so, downtown Nowhere was faded and broken and damned near deserted. Nearly half of the businesses were boarded up. No building stood over two-stories and most all looked as if they hadn’t been renovated since the late sixties. It might have been charming—a slice of western Americana—if the facades had been maintained. Even Desperado’s Den—one of the most frequented establishments in Nowhere—suffered neglect.

  On the whole, the town was an eyesore. Add in the limited shopping and depressed economy, no wonder people drove an extra few miles to get to a chain superstore. On any typical day, less than a dozen cars occupied the meter free parking along the curb of Frontier Street. If there’d ever been a line painted dow
n the center of the street, it had long since faded. Joe kept expecting tumbleweeds to roll over the cracked asphalt. Nowhere was that close to qualifying as a ghost town. He hadn’t cared before. In fact, he’d relished the desolation. It suited his mood. His needs.

  Only now, dammit to hell, it didn’t.

  The dwindling population had cost Archie his job. According to Bella, her library had suffered major funding cuts, and her friend Georgie was unemployed and presently searching for work in the next town over. He’d heard a lot of talk on his occasional hangs at Desi’s and now that he thought about it, a lot of that talk touched on the shaky future of Nowhere. He didn’t want to care, but Bella was hugging him and all he could think was—this is her hometown. A place she loved so much, she’d sworn to never leave. Her friends had sworn the same oath only now they were getting twitchy and that made Bella sad. He knew because she’d told him. As much as she withheld from her dad, she had no problem sharing her thoughts with Joe. That knowledge warmed him every bit as much as the summer sun.

  Bella squeezed then pointed. “There it is!”

  As if he could miss it.

  Café Caboose was an antique railcar poised on a segment of iron tracks—west of the Coyote Club, Nowhere’s second most popular bar and east of the gleaming silver grain and feed monstrosity known as Chet’s Farm & Feed. Although the red caboose was the center piece and main entrance of the diner, additional “themed” construction allowed for a kitchen and a larger dining car to accommodate special events. Joe had driven by the popular café dozens of times, but he’d never been tempted to stop. Too family oriented for his personal comfort. He wasn’t surprised that it had been Bella’s first choice.

  “I can’t believe you’ve yet to dine at Café Caboose,” Bella said as she swung off the back of Joe’s bike. “It’s a landmark!”

  “Mostly I eat in.”

  “Emma thinks you have a social disorder,” she said as she struggled with the chin strap. “But that can’t be right. As a cop you dealt with people all the time. Unless that’s it. You got sick of dealing with people.”