by Selena Kitt
I gathered myself and set aside my grief long enough to get in one shot at Mitch, “Thank you, I will. I have a date.” I smiled sweetly as Mitch’s mouth gaped open. I waved at Jax through the front room window, and clenched my jaw to keep smiling, only letting my facade crumple once I turned away and no one could see me. I got into the car, and made it halfway down their long driveway before I burst into tears.
Mitch had held up his end of the bargain and kept it together in front of Jax, but the threats he’d made were still ringing in my head. Fighting to get joint custody of Jax, and working out child support and dividing holiday time had damn near killed me the first time around. I couldn’t go through that again.
When I finally got home, I downed some sleepy time tea and tried to calm down—but my night was spent thinking of Jax and what an asshole Mitch turned out to be. I didn’t need this shit. My thoughts turned to Jace and our date. It probably should’ve made me happy—excited. But all I could ponder up was that he’d probably disappear once he saw what a shit storm my life had become.
* * *
Despite my lack of sleep, I sprung out of bed the next morning and flew through my to-do list. Before two o’clock I’d hit the grocery store, gas station, and dry cleaner, and had the house in semi-decent shape. My hurried pace was fueled halfway by the anger that was spilling over inside me with each replay of the argument with Mitch from the night before—and halfway with the nerves that were setting in with each passing minute as the clock ticked down the hours until I was set to meet Jace for our dinner. I worked my fingers to the bone, scrubbing every surface of the house, hardly even aware of what I was doing, as I fumed. I threw myself from task to task, until everything was done, only then, allowing myself to collapse onto the couch. I was covered in sweat, dust, and at least three different types of cleaning solution, but I sighed with deep relief and satisfaction as I surveyed my sparkling clean house. It was amazing how much more I could accomplish without a toddler and giant dog underfoot. That was the only silver lining to having Jax with Mitch and Hannah on the weekends.
As I relaxed into the cushions, my mind drifted from the argument with Mitch, and shifted over to thinking about the night ahead. In the end, Jace had agreed to call our evening a dinner out, rather than a date, but all the same, in four hours, he would be on my doorstep and we would be spending the evening together.
Whatever that entailed…
Jace was new in town, but had apparently scouted out a few places and had one of them marked for our night out, but was very sketchy on the details. As he’d lingered over the strawberry shortcake—another of the favorites he’d mentioned that I’d coaxed Nate, our line cook, into making—we had set the time, and he insisted on being in charge of the rest. And no matter how sweetly I asked, he wouldn’t budge and give me any more information. I’d gotten lost in the dance of the flirtation, and had waltzed around the rest of the day with a big, goofy smile on my face.
Even Patrice had noticed, and after putting two and two together, she’d teased me gently for the rest of our shift. I never acknowledged that she was right, but she was pretty smug about her pseudo-detective work, and didn’t believe me when I shrugged off her assessment that I’d fallen into “the bad boy trap.”
Over the past few weeks, Jace and I had gotten to know each other in scattered bits and pieces, and although I still felt like he was surrounded by a fog of mystery, I had a sense about him and didn’t fully buy into the bad boy vibe he was clearly trying to put out. I knew he was a famous tattoo artist from Chicago and that was good enough for me.
I’d resisted the urge to look him up online, and also tried to block out any gossip from anyone at the diner, choosing to figure him out for myself. I’d had enough gossip spread about me in my life to know it was rarely even close to the truth. When I was in high school, there was a nasty group of girls who spread it around that I was easy, even though I was still a virgin, and then, in an even more painful scenario, after Mitch and I divorced, there were rumors running rampant as our friends struggled to figure out what had happened and which side to take. Even though Mitch had been the one to cheat, somehow it had been spun—whether by Mitch, or someone else, I’d never know—that I’d been frigid, cold, and uncaring, and some even went so far as to say I’d been cheating as well.
Whoever Jace was, I would uncover it slowly over time, and that was fine by me. The last thing I wanted to do was rush into…well…whatever it was I was heading towards.
I pushed off the couch and after turning on some loud classic rock, I hopped into the shower, singing my heart out as the water rained down on me, letting all my fears, thoughts, and worries go as I got lost in the song.
When I decided I was done enough, I set aside all the brushes, sprays, and wands, and stepped back to give myself a final look over in the mirror. Despite the resolve that the evening was not a date—I had to admit, that I was certainly dressed for a date. I’d painstakingly chosen a dress that was form fitting enough to flatter my curves, but not tight enough to suggest anything. The top gave away a hint of cleavage, but nothing absurd, as I hadn’t gone so far as to put on a push up bra. My chestnut hair fell in loose waves around my face, and I was wearing just enough makeup to make my eyes stand out, but still look natural.
With another hour to go, I went back out to the living room, and stared. An almost lost feeling. As a single mom, there were very few times where I literally had nothing to do. I knew my mind was not going to be any use if I tried to do some homework, and other than that, everything was done. Part of me wanted to wander next door and see what Hilda was up to, but then I’d have to endure her endless questions and it would only leave me more rattled, so in the end, I grabbed a cup of tea and went out onto the balcony and caught up with old friends on social media, trying not to check the time every two seconds.
Finally, at six o’clock sharp, the doorbell chimed, and I just about jumped out of my skin, my body hot with a flush of nerves, as I smoothed my hair, dress, and adjusted my necklace, before going inside and answering the door.
Kat
“Wow, Kat, you look amazing!” Jace said, his face lighting up the second I opened the front door.
My cheeks warmed and I glanced down for a beat. “Thank you, you do too.”
And did he ever…he was wearing dark wash jeans, that were far from being hipster, but definitely tight enough to show off his well muscled legs. He was wearing a black leather jacket, unzipped to show off a deep red, almost burgundy tee underneath.
He was still staring at me, but brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, suddenly startled. I looked down at my dress, making sure nothing was amiss.
“Well…I hate to ask you this but… can you change?”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Of all the things he could have said, that was the one thing I didn’t have a response to.
He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I know, what an asshole…it’s just, I brought my Harley and wanted to take you for a ride. I don’t think you’ll be comfortable in that dress.”
My hand patted the front of my dress, as though assessing whether or not he was right. “Well, we could take me car, instead? I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s gotta be the bike,” he replied, leaving no room for discussion. He was still smiling, but his tone let me know his mind was made up and he wasn’t changing it over a dress.
I nodded slowly. “All right, well give me a couple minutes. I’ll throw on some jeans.”
“Thanks.” He stepped inside and closed the front door behind him and the house was filled with his energy and the faint smell of day old cologne. I watched him for a minute, as he strode into the middle of the living room and looked around, as though absorbing each detail of me through the decor. The room felt smaller, and the silence charged with electricity as I realized how intimate the moment was. What am I thinking? I should have offered to meet him somewhere—anywhere. God, I
really am an unfit mother. Who invites a strange man to their home like this? I reamed myself. Jace turned in time to catch my contorted face as I mentally battled with myself. “Are you all right?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah. I’ll be back.” I hustled away before I could get tangled in my thoughts again. God, I’m being a total spaz. I closed the door to my bedroom, paused a moment, and then flipped the lock—just in case. I stalked across the room in three long strides, and flung open the accordion doors of the closet. I’d already done this once before, carefully choosing the dress I was wearing—but in hindsight realized it was all wrong. Not only because of the Harley, but because the night with Jace wasn’t a date, it was just two people having dinner. By wearing a dress and heels—even low ones—I was sending the complete wrong message.
“Get it together, Kat,” I huffed at myself, refocusing my gaze on the options in front of me. I pulled out the pair of jeans I’d worn to drop off Jax, and stepped into them. After shimmying into the jeans, I ripped the dress off, over my head, and threw it to the floor. I grabbed blindly at the stack of shirts on the shelf of long sleeves, and came back with a black sweater that was meant to be worn off one shoulder. I stripped off my bra, pulled the sweater over my head, and went digging for my strapless bra. For a brief moment of insanity, I debated going braless. My breasts were small enough that I could get away with it, but then quickly snapped back to reality and found the bra. After I was strapped in, I fluffed my hair over my bare shoulder and went back out to the living room.
Jace was still standing, considering a large piece of art that hung above the couch. It was an abstract piece—I’d fell in love with it because I liked the colors and found them soothing. At the sound of my footsteps on the hardwood, he turned and smiled. “Wow, now I’m kinda glad you had to change…” he complimented, his eyes raking up and down my body, lingering for a moment on my bare shoulder. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be…I’ve never been on a bike of any kind, let alone a Harley,” I confessed. My body was still tingling with nerves and after Jace’s appraising glances, I was even more wobbly on my feet. The dinner was feeling more and more date-like with every passing second.
“Ahh, it’s nothing. You’ll be a pro by the time the night is over. Come on,” he said, waving me back towards the front door as though we were standing in his house.
We went down the stairs and Jace went to his bike that was parked in my short driveway. It was a monstrosity, huge and hulking, jet black and dangerous looking. My stomach flipped over as Jace handed me a spare helmet that had been strapped to the back. “Come on gorgeous,” he said, patting the seat. I took a few tiny steps towards the bike. I flung a leg over and sat on the leather seat. “Damn.” Jace let out a low whistle. “You were meant to ride a bike, Kat. You look amazing.”
I laughed and relaxed at the sight of his sly smile. He hopped on in front of me and I was jolted forward, pressed up against his back. Every muscle went on red alert as I tried to scoot back and create some space between us, but it was pointless. There was just enough room for both of us, and as the bike revved to life, I somehow nestled even closer. The vibrations of the bike were hitting all the right places, and that combined with Jace’s warmth and scent had me all riled up in a split second, as though a caged tiger somewhere inside me had just sprung free of its cage…Shit…he’s delicious…I mused to myself, letting the smell of the leather and his faint cologne mix together in a deep inhale.
“You ready?” Jace called out, his voice louder than the vibrations of the bike.
“Mmhmm.”
“You gotta hold on tight, okay?” Jace called back to me, a moment before he pushed off the ground and started pulling back down the drive. I stared at his back for a moment—his instructions were a mix of both horror and delight. I set my hands on either side of his trim waist, but as soon as we were on the street and picked up a little speed, I wrapped my hands further around him, fully aware of every inch of his body, my mind a factory of naughty thoughts as we rode into the night.
It didn’t take long before Jace started pushing the speed and tightness of the curves in the road, as though he was on some kind of mission to see how far he could push me before I would squeal for him to slow down. My heart was pounding—for a whole lot of reasons—and my fingers clenched tightly together to keep a firm hold on his waist— but I refused to let him know how freaked out I was, and after we’d gone a few miles, I let go completely and let out a loud “whoop” as we raced around a particularly sharp turn. “You’re crazy!” I yelled.
“You like it!” He hollered back, and I just smiled.
We rode so long that I lost track of time, but it was dark outside, and I knew it had to be getting close to at least seven, or maybe even eight o’clock, by the time we pulled into a small parking lot outside a tiny little dive bar in the middle of nowhere. The lot was packed with other bikes, and music was blaring so loud I couldn’t imagine how we were going to hear our own thoughts, let alone talk to each other, once we got inside. However, once the bike engine was silenced, and I removed my helmet, I could make out that the music was actually coming from outside, somewhere beyond the bar.
Jace removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, straightening the spikes back into place. He extended a hand to take my helmet, and hooked them both over the back of the bike. “Sounds like quite the party,” I commented, jerking my head in the direction of the bar.
“Yeah,” Jace replied with a half grin. “It can get a little crazy, but you mentioned you like classic rock, and the guys who play here are legit.”
I smiled at Jace and we started walking towards the front entrance. His hand was dangling near mine, and with each step, I glanced down, wondering if he was thinking of taking mine. I knew it wasn’t a date, but for whatever reason, my hand was gravitating towards his. We reached the door and Jace held it open, giving a tip of his imaginary hat as I thanked him and walked inside. The bar was packed, crowds of people waiting for drinks, but nearly all the tables were vacant. The back doors were open wide and the music was blasting inside. Jace was right—it was definitely my kind of music. The people on the other hand…I hung back a step, waiting for Jace to take the lead again, as I looked around. Nearly everyone was decked out in riding leathers and although I’d just rode up on a big ass Harley, I felt completely out of place.
“All right, this way,” Jace said, placing a hand on the small of my back and leaning in to speak directly in my ear. At his touch, my body jolted upright and shivers extended, fragmenting out from the place his fingers rested. “I have a table reserved for us.”
I let him guide me to the left of the entrance, and up a steep set of stairs, that led to an upper banquet room. The room was vacant but looked like it was normally used for overflow or large parties. On the opposite wall, there was a set of double doors that were propped open to a balcony. Jace flashed me a smile. “Best seat in the house,” he said, leading me through the room and out to the balcony.
It was a beautiful space and had a killer view of the pavilion down below that was teeming with people. A table for two had been set out with a few mason jars with white candles inside, giving off a soft glow. Jace pulled out a chair and ushered me into it before taking his seat on the opposite side.
“Hey J!” A rough looking man appeared and clapped Jace on the back with a firm hand.
Jace jumped up and the two men bear hugged for a moment, both all smiles. “Damon, this is Kat.” Jace gestured to me and I stood, extending a hand, but Damon wrapped me in a tight, bone crushing embrace, just as he had Jace. I laughed when he released me, “Nice to meet you.”
“Damon owns this place,” Jace explained.
“Oh, wow! It’s really…cool.” I fumbled over the word cool, looking at the man decked in riding gear, cool seemed a little out of place, but it was the best I had.
Jace smiled at me and then looked back over at Damon. “Thanks for hooking this up, man.”
“O
f course! Hey, I’ll send the Mrs. up to get you some drinks, enjoy the show.”
We both thanked him as he departed, and after a few minutes, as promised, his wife—an edgy looking chick with purple streaks in her hair, and possibly more ink than Jace—came up, just as nice and welcoming as her husband had been. She also embraced Jace as though he was a long time friend, and my mind filled with more and more questions by the minute.
When we were alone with two beers, and a basket of fries to split, Jace explained, “Damon and I were in the Navy together a couple of years ago…anyway, when he got out, he opened this place.”
I nodded and sipped at my beer. “That’s cool. I heard you were in the military.”
Jace gave a small smile and nodded. “Yep, still am. Reserves. But when I was active…that was a totally different chapter in my life.” He let out a long sigh and I took it to mean he didn’t want to talk about his military career.
We both looked at each other and then out over the side of the balcony down to the ground below. The music had been knocked down a few decibels as the first band of the night took the stage. It appeared the crowd that had been at the bar when we’d arrived had now migrated outside, and were all eagerly awaiting the show to begin, drinks in hand. I wasn’t much for huge crowds, so I was glad to be tucked away in the upper room, away from the chaos. I glanced over at Jace, and got the feeling he might feel the same way. “This is a great spot,” I said. “Thanks for thinking of it.”
