Beauty & the Biker

by Beth Ciotta

  After riding several miles in silence, her rambling was music to his ears. “I got sick of a lot of things,” he said while removing her helmet. He loved her messy hair, the flush of her wind-burned cheeks. He loved that she’d opted for adventure over comfort. He’d offered to drive them into town in his truck, but she’d chosen his bike instead, citing a beautiful day and a need to clear her head.

  Archie had promised to meet them after he’d washed up and changed. Joe figured he had Bella to himself for a few more minutes and he intended to soak in every second of her vibrant company.

  “You were with the police department how long? Fourteen years?” she answered for him as they moved toward the converted railcar. “That’s a long time. You must have dealt with a lot of nasty stuff. That would wear on anyone. But now you’re in Nowhere. It’s not anything like Chicago. I’ve never been to Chicago, but—”

  “That’ll change this weekend.”

  Bella faltered on the steps leading up to the renovated caboose. He didn’t blame her confusion. He should have told her earlier.

  “The date I agreed to in our initial agreement? The formal affair?”

  “A wedding, actually.”

  “Whose?”

  “The daughter of a close friend and former colleague. I promised.”

  “And it’s in Chicago? Illinois?”

  “I’ll cover all expenses,” Joe said, alleviating, hopefully, any concerns. “Hotel. Airfare.”

  “I’ve never been on a plane.”

  That caught him by surprise.

  “The farthest I’ve ever been is just north, over the state line. A family vacation. South Dakota. The Badlands. Thousands of acres of wilderness. Even more remote than Nowhere.”

  Hard to imagine.

  “What did you like best about Chicago?” she asked.

  “The hot dogs.” A steamed all-beef frankfurter doused with a garden of everything fixings and sandwiched in a poppy seed bun.

  “We have hot dogs here.”

  “Not Chicago-style.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Then I looked forward to the hot dogs.”

  She pushed through the door and yet again Joe was floored by Bella’s easy nature. He’d never known a woman who so easily went with the flow. Someone who constantly found the good in the bad. He’d expected her to blast him for withholding the extreme destination of their date. Instead she’d fished for a positive aspect. The woman had a bottomless pit of faith and optimism.

  Unlike Joe.

  Rediscover what you’re missing at the Nowhere Public Library.

  He hadn’t thought about that Impossible Dream site in days. What would Bella think if he told her he’d barfed his heart out to an online data analyst, asking for a miracle and being pointed in her direction? It wasn’t something he felt compelled to share. The email hadn’t stated Bella’s name. It hadn’t mentioned a person at all. Maybe, as he’d first assumed, ID.com was suggesting salvation via spiritual or self-help books. Was he so desperate for redemption that he’d instead latched onto Bella, twisting a coincidental meeting into a fated match?

  She slid into a booth and Joe settled next to her.

  A waitress appeared with two tumblers of water, a huge smile, and twinkle in her eyes. “Hi Bella,” she said, while staring at Joe.

  “Hey, Laura. I don’t think you’ve met Joe. Joe Savage. He’s—”

  “Your new neighbor. I know,” she said, still staring, still smiling. “It’s about time you came in for a visit.”

  “Could we have the menus?” Bella asked kindly.

  Laura blinked as though she’d forgotten they were tucked under her arm. She served up the waters then passed over the menus, her gaze glued to Joe. “If you ever need anyone to show you around…”

  “I appreciate the offer.” He cut her off, hoping she’d get a clue. Still the woman hovered.

  “When I was a kid, I used to love Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland. It hasn’t been operational in years. I was hoping…some of us with kids were hoping…” She shrugged. “It’s kind of boring around here in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Joe had nothing to say to that.

  Bella filled the awkward silence. “I know Hailey and Troy are too old for story hur, but I recently submitted some new ideas to my boss. Programs more suited to tweens.”

  “I appreciate that,” Laura said, “but it’s not the same. Also I was hoping to pick up some additional work. They’re cutting back my hours here. I thought if Mr. Savage re-opened the park—”

  “I have to be honest,” Joe interrupted. “I have no plans to reopen Funland.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about the cutback,” Bella said to the woman. “If I hear of anything—”

  “You’ll let Georgie know first.” Laura sighed. “That’s okay. I’ll find something. The offer still stands,” she said to Joe. “About showing you around. I’m single by the way. Divorced. I…” She trailed off as Joe slid a possessive arm behind Bella. “Oh,” she said, looking a little flustered. “I thought… What about you and Carson?” she asked Bella.

  “There is no me and Carson.”

  “Oh. Oh.”

  The look on Laura’s face suggested that she might turn her attentions to the wealthy dealership owner. The look on Bella’s face said, Go for it. Joe doubted it would lead to anything serious since Anderson was still hung up on Bella, but maybe he was wrong.

  Someone called for more coffee and Laura turned to comply. “Give a shout when you’re ready to order,” she said before hurrying off.

  Joe waited for Bella to jump on talk of Funland, but instead she remarked on the arm he’d draped over her shoulder. “You do realize that Laura now thinks we’re a couple. And that she’ll blab the assumption to everyone who walks through those doors. Although, I guess that’s what we intimated yesterday with Carson.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Laura’s probably wondering what the heck you see in me.”

  “Maybe she’s wondering what you see in me.” He wondered himself.

  “With you,” she said, “there’s the obvious—you’re hot—and the not so obvious—you’re sweet.”

  He’d be amused by the compliment if he weren’t so uncomfortable. If she knew his darkest thoughts and deeds… If she knew what he was capable of… “You have a hell of an imagination, sweetheart.”

  “Fact,” she said holding up one finger. “You took in a stray cat, made him a cushy bed and a special place in your studio instead of forcing him to sleep outside.” Another finger. “Fact. You reignited my dad’s interest in landscaping and gave his pride a boost. Fact. You drew a fairy for Melody and a flying horse for me even though you claim you’re not inspired to draw fluff. Fact—”

  Joe grasped her hand and kissed those emphatic fingertips. “Let’s just say, you bring out the best in me.”

  She flushed and grinned. “If you ask any of the Inseparables, you bring out the bad in me.”

  “Wish I hadn’t heard that,” came a deep and unfamiliar voice.

  Joe noted the burn of Bella’s cheeks just before turning to see who had snuck up on him. Usually he was more aware of his surroundings. To think he’d been lost in Bella’s fathomless baby blues.

  “Zeke,” Bella blurted. “Hey. Hi. This is—”

  “I know who it is. Don’t bother,” he said when Joe started to stand. “We’re not formal around here. Mind if I sit? Thanks.”

  Joe held silent as the man jerked off his sport’s cap—another Husker’s fan—then slid into the seat across from them, the seat intended for Archie.

  Bella scrambled to continue the introductions. “Joe this is—”

  “I know who it is.” Zeke Mooney. Stormchaser. Joe hadn’t met many locals face-to-face, but he knew a few key players. Especially those who frequented Desperado Den.

  Zeke grinned. “My reputation precedes me.”

  “Something like that.” Joe had seen Zeke and his crew hanging at the bar. Drinking hard and m
easuring their dicks with adrenaline-charged stories revolving around monster storms. According to Tank, Zeke was a good guy. Maybe so. But he was also cocky and reckless.

  “Zeke is Chrissy’s brother,” Bella explained.

  Joe knew that, too.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Dropped in to get a burger to go.” He tapped the menu in front of Joe. “Don’t bother. Order the Choo-Choo Cheeseburger. No one grills a burger like Russell.”

  “He’s right about that,” Bella said.

  “Ask for the works,” Zeke added then lazed back in the booth. “Saw you both when I came in and thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity. Three things,” he said. “One. Bella. Jimbo got a great deal on a new car for his mom. Said her old one wasn’t worth trading in, but he needs it the hell out of his garage. It’s yours if you want it.”

  “I’ll take it!”

  Joe frowned. “If it wasn’t worth trading in—”

  “It runs, right?” she asked Zeke.

  “Runs fine. Cosmetic stuff, that’s all.”

  “I’ll take it,” she repeated. “That’s awfully sweet of Jimbo and Mrs. Fletcher.”

  “Trust me,” Zeke said. “You’re doing them a favor. Two. Savage. Tank told me you’re a kick-ass airbrush artist. I need a new logo for the Z-Crew Stormchasers. Something you could paint on our main truck and assorted equipment. Something fierce.”

  “He does fierce really well,” Bella said.

  “I could work something up,” Joe said.

  “Great. Three. Both of you.” Zeke leaned in, lowered his voice. “Carson’s good and twisted about this boarder situation. I overheard him talking trash at the festival.”

  Joe tensed. “What kind of trash?”

  “Just that he’s going to prove he’s the better man.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Bella said.

  “Appreciate the information,” Joe said.

  “Yeah, well. You drew a beautiful picture for my niece. Figure you must be a decent guy. Meant the world to her, by the way. Also… Chrissy said Bella likes you a lot. Since we all love Bella that means we’ll try to like you. Know this though,” he said as he reached for his cap. “Hurt her, I break you.”

  “You could try,” Joe said with a trace of a smile.

  Bella groaned.

  Just then Archie blew in. “Sorry I’m late. Oh, hey. Zeke. Good to see you, boy.”

  “Uncle Arch. I was just leaving.”

  “Don’t be silly. Sit. I’ll scootch in. Anyone order yet?”

  “Not yet,” Joe said.

  “Laura, honey!” Zeke called.

  She showed up in a flash—pad and pencil poised. “What’ll you have?”

  Everyone looked at Joe.

  Well, hell.

  The pressure to become one of Nowhere’s own was intense. And—oddly—not that unwelcome. “Four Choo-Choo Cheeseburgers.”

  Bella beamed. “With the works.”

  “So,” Archie said. “I’ve been thinking about Funland.”

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time they wrapped dinner and returned to Savage’s home, the sun was sinking and so were Bella’s hopes regarding the revitalization of Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland. While tending the grounds, her dad had personally inspected the eight rides and assorted game and concession booths, declaring more than half beyond repair and the other half in need of extensive repair. Renovation of the park would be expensive and time consuming. Meanwhile the place was a rotting, rusting safety hazard.

  Zeke had chimed in relaying a story from last fall, a story Bella had forgotten. Two local teens had busted into Funland on a dare and in an effort to steal a bucking horse from the Cowboy Carousel. One had been injured in the process and as a result the kid’s dad had threatened Mike with a lawsuit, claiming Funland a deathtrap. Nothing had come of it. Still the potential for future calamities was a valid concern.

  Bella had wondered whose side her family was on? She’d made it her mission to resurrect the park and they’d only fed Savage more reason to rip it down. Savage hadn’t commented much, but she’d seen his wheels turning. At some point in the conversation she had a light bulb moment. Now that she was living on property, her dad and cousin worried she was living in daily peril. Their concern, though not unwarranted, was unwelcome.

  Arguing with three headstrong men seemed futile, so Bella had bitten her tongue, mentally coordinating her rebuttal and reminding herself that the Inseparables had vowed to return in order to organize the Funland memorabilia. Then it would be Bella and friends against Savage. She liked those odds much better.

  Even so, after he parked the bike in the studio, Bella couldn’t help but voice her mind. “I think Dad was exaggerating.”

  “About?”

  “The condition of Funland.”

  “I don’t think so.” Savage shelved their helmets, his expression hidden, but his tone thoughtful. “I admit I focused my time and efforts on upgrading the interior of the house and this studio. I’ve avoided the park on a daily basis, but I did walk the grounds when I first arrived. It’s not pretty.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not salvageable.”

  He turned to her then, a picture of strained patience. “I looked under the hood of Big Red. Saw your dad’s handiwork. I trust his eye and talent for mechanics. If he says more than fifty percent of the rides are shot—”

  “But fifty percent can be fixed,” she said, determined to focus on the positive.

  “At considerable cost,” Savage said. “And that’s not factoring in extensive renovations of the various booths and buildings. The snack bar, the gift shop, the washrooms. Re-opening the park would entail ordering and storing game prizes, souvenirs, food. It would require hiring employees.”

  “Your uncle did it.”

  “He was inspired to do it. I’m not inspired or motivated in any way—”

  “Your art!”

  “What?”

  “You could incorporate your art into the park. Customize every ride. Every building. Cowboys, horses, buffalo, eagles. Who needs a billboard to advertise their spectacular talent? You’d have Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland! I can see it! Can’t you see it?”

  “Jesus, Bella.”

  “If it’s the money, maybe we could find investors. I know for a fact Angel is looking to invest in something that would revitalize Nowhere. If it’s a management thing, if you’d rather devote your time to your airbrushing business, maybe you could hire a park supervisor. Someone who’s good with people. Someone who has a mind for business. Someone like Georgie. Maybe—”

  “Maybe you should look for another way to breathe life into Nowhere, because opening a park on my property, a business that caters to kids would be the death of me.”

  His scary calm tone chilled Bella to her bones. She hugged herself against his gut-twisting declaration and finally voiced what she’d been trying so desperately to ignore. “Why do hate kids?”

  “I love kids. And every time I see one, I’m reminded of what could happen to them.”

  Bella nearly choked on the sadness and fury emanating from Savage. He glanced at his bike and she knew he was contemplating riding off a funk. She moved swiftly, wrapping her arms around his middle and holding him tight. “Tell me what tortures you.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “But if you talked about it—”

  “It wouldn’t change what I’ve seen. What I know. What I’ve done.”

  Her heart ached so badly, she could scarcely breathe. She hugged him harder and he hugged back.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Go inside. Make yourself at home. Watch TV. Work on your stories. I have a deadline on a mock-up I promised a client.”

  She wanted to press. What have you seen? What have you done? But she knew he wouldn’t share, no matter how hard she pushed.

  “There are things I can’t talk about, won’t talk about.”

  “Okay,” Bella said, stepping
out of his embrace. He was asking for space. So be it.

  Patience is key.

  “I’m going.” But I’m not giving up.

  Forcing a smile, she left Savage to his art and moved toward the house. She glanced toward Funland—another dagger to the heart. Deep down she knew renovating the park would be a monumental task. Beyond that, how could she ask a man to invest time and money in a project that would inflict such devastating personal pain?

  “What have you seen? What have you done?” she mumbled to herself.

  Bella only had so much patience. Especially when someone she cared about was hurting. She’d spent several months navigating her dad’s personal hell, but even that hadn’t prepared her for Joe Savage’s burning misery. She knew next to nothing about the secretive, haunted soul she’d moved in with, yet she’d fallen for him head over heels, heart over logic. Her mind raced as she scaled cracked steps and a creaky porch. Here she was pushing Savage to invest a fortune in a park he didn’t want while his house, his home, still required extensive renovation. His uncle had left him a money pit, not a fortune.

  Her conscience kicked.

  Using the key he’d given her, Bella unlocked the front door and rushed inside. She hurried up the steps, blew into her room and shut the door. She fished her phone out of her messenger bag then hooked the bag over a chair.

  She was glad it was Sunday, Ryan’s usual day off. This way she could call his personal number instead of the sheriff’s office. Bad enough she was going behind Savage’s back. She didn’t want to complicate matters by making an official query. No, this was a personal call. To her friend’s brother, a man she’d known all her life. A man who also happened to be a cop.

  She scrolled through her contacts, her ears perking at the muffled sound of music. Dark and bombastic. She cracked open her window. Savage had cranked up a heavy metal track. Even from this distance the volume was intense. It had to be earsplitting in the studio. How could he hear himself think? Although, maybe that was the point. She imagined him drawing skulls and cross bones, and eagles with lethal talons because it certainly wasn’t the kind of music to inspire sparkly fairies.

  Heart heavy, Bella closed the window as her call connected. In spite of the loud music, Killer trotted into the studio. Good. Maybe he’d provide some comfort. Animals had a way of doing that. At least Savage wouldn’t be alone in his funk.