by Sarah Thorn
A small table had been set in the middle of the porch area. Two long candles had been placed in front of each plate. They glowed softly. There were two plates, wine glasses with red wine in them and a covered plate in the middle of the table.
Caroline’s heart melted. She couldn’t help it when her mouth fell open and she gasped.
“Oh, my!” She breathed. “This is so beautiful, George. Oh, George!” She looked at him with misty eyes. It was obvious that he had the same feelings she had. She sighed and went to the table to look closer at its beauty. She sat when he pulled the chair out and scooted forward to sit comfortably.
He sat across from her.
“Before we have dinner, we need to talk. I would like to ask you something.”
She was surprised when the words came out of his mouth that she’d had every intention of saying herself.
“You would?” She asked.
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips together. “I also have something I want to ask you.”
“Who will go first?”
She smiled. “You can.”
“Okay.” He put out his hand and held it flat on the table. She placed her hand in his. “I have come to the decision that asking for a bride through the mail was the best thing I could have done. I believe that God has brought you to me. I am impressed with you as a woman and a person. You are a beautiful lady. I’m glad you’re here with me. I hope you are planning to stay. How has it gone for you? Do you like it?”
She nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! I am extremely happy here.”
“Do you miss your family and Virginia?”
She tilted her head and gave him a smile. “I do, of course. But I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. I will write to them. And perhaps someday we can visit them.”
“We can definitely do that.” He nodded and his smile betrayed how happy he was that she was pleased to stay.
“I believe it is not very hard to fall in love with a woman like you,” He said, his deep voice soft. She sighed quietly.
“I feel the same about you,” She whispered, her cheeks red.
He was quiet for a moment, looking at her. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
He reached forward and took the cover off the dish in between them. Instead of a plate of food like she expected, there was a soft bed of lettuce with radishes lining the outside. In the very middle of the lettuce sat a silver ring. She was stunned.
She picked it up and looked at it. It had a large diamond in the placement with tiny red stones surrounding it in the shape of a heart. She pulled in her breath all the way and held it.
He took it from her fingers and took her hand. “I would so love it if you would marry me, Caroline. You are sent from God, I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, George!” She couldn’t hold tears back from her eyes. “This is a beautiful ring. Of course, I will marry you!”
He smiled wide and sighed hard. “That’s wonderful!” He slid the ring on her finger. Excitement and nervousness ran through her. She stood up and he did too, pulling her into a tight hug. She felt so comfortable in his arms. She rested her head against his chest, smiling contentedly. When she pulled away, she looked up at him feeling better than she had in a very long time.
“Now didn’t you have something to ask me?” He said. “They will bring us our food in a little while. We have time to talk.”
She sat back down and he did, too, leaning over the table toward her.
“Well,” She hesitated, again worried about what he would think. “I told you before that my parents own a restaurant. That’s how I know what to do when working there.”
He nodded. “Yes and you do a good job. Even in business matters, I’ve noticed that you make good decisions.”
“Thank you. That’s my father’s influence.”
“Your father must be a good teacher.”
“He is. And I followed him around all the time.” She laughed, thinking about her father’s acceptance of his young daughter trying to be just like him. “I admire everything about him. But before I came here something tragic happened to my family.”
“And what was that?”
“Well…” Again, she hesitated, looking down.
“Caroline, don’t be anxious about what you have to say. If we are to be married, we must be open and honest with each other. Go ahead.”
She knew her cheeks had filled again. She decided to just get it out. “My father’s business partner stole all the profits from the restaurant for the past several years. He has bankrupted our family…or it will happen and we will lose everything unless something happens fast.”
George sat back with a serious look. She instantly feared he suspected her affection for him was only because of the money. When he spoke, she felt a deep sense of relief.
“What? That is horrible! Yes, that is a dreadful thing for your family!”
“I would like to help them if I can. If you are willing to help them, I will work off every cent you give, in the restaurant or casino. I will do whatever it takes to pay you back.”
George was quiet for a moment and she wondered what he was thinking. Was he angry with her for asking? Did he know that she truly felt love for him?
“Let me ask you something, Caroline,” He said, leaning toward her again. Her breath caught. “Do you truly have feelings for me? Can you love me?”
She lowered her head. “I already do,” She whispered.
He reached out and took her hand. “I believe that, Caroline. I see how you look at me and it fills my heart. I don’t need you to pay off every cent in the restaurant or casino. I don’t need you to pay it back at all. I have money. What I want is love. I don’t mind using that money to make someone I love prosper…or her family, in this case.”
“Oh, George!” Caroline began to cry, her relief flowing through her. Her mother and father and siblings would be safe. The restaurant would continue to be profitable. He stood up again and gathered her in his arms.
“I love you, Caroline. I want you to be happy. Please don’t worry or hesitate to ask me for anything that you need.”
She looked up into his eyes. “You are an amazing man, George. I can’t thank you enough for caring enough about me to help my family, too. Thank you!”
She moved into his waiting arms. “I love you, too.”
*****
THE END
MOTORCYCLE Romance – Outlaw Bad Boy Biker
1
Jennifer Walters groaned as her six-year-old son leapt atop her. She was in bed, and after opening one eye and squinting at her alarm clock, she saw it wasn’t even seven in the morning. In fact, it wasn’t even six thirty.
“What are you doing up so early?” Jennifer asked the little boy. His name was Jaxson, and he had the same blonde hair his mother did though his green eyes were his father's. That man was long gone, out of the picture and out of the state. It was just Jen and Jaxson, together in Arizona, in a small town named Harrisburg. It was dusty and hot, and Jennifer owned a small bar right at the end of the main drag, a place called Chuck’s, the name inherited by the man she had bought it from. Chuck’s was the local biker hang out, and there were plenty of bikers in and around Harrisburg.
“It’s not early, is it?”
“Six twenty is pretty early,” Jennifer groaned. “Go back to bed.”
“I don’t want to; I’m too excited about school.”
Jaxson was in first grade, and he loved it. He was bright and was already reading far beyond his level.
“Why? You go five times a week. How could you be excited?”
“Today is Chris’ birthday, and he’s bringing in cupcakes,” the little boy said with a huge grin.
“You got me up so early because you’re excited about cupcakes?”
“I guess so,” Jaxson said.
“Do you know how late I worked?”
“Yeah, you didn't pick me up until two in the morning. I woke up as we were driving home
.”
On nights that Jennifer worked, which was most of them, an older woman named Barbara, who lived down the street, watched Jaxson. After leaving the bar, Jennifer would swing by and pick him up. Being a single mother was tough, but Jennifer wouldn’t have her life any other way. Jaxson’s dad had been an asshole, one of those tough guys Jen always found herself chasing after, and when she had gotten pregnant, he had disappeared. She was better off without him.
Jennifer’s mother lived across the country and wasn’t able to visit much, and had no money to send to help when Jennifer had needed such a thing.
Buying Chuck’s had been a big gamble, but it had paid off. Jennifer hadn’t gone to college. She had worked in the dingy bar for a couple of years. And then, when she was twenty-three, Chuck retired and offered the bar to the few employees he had. Jennifer was the only one who expressed interest in buying it. She got a loan, and she did so. She wanted to make a better life for herself, and her son.
Twenty-three turned into twenty-four, and that gave way to twenty-five, and the bar stayed afloat, and she finally had a monetary cushion. She wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck.
But she did stay up late, and she was tired, and she felt as though she was missing out on Jaxson, particularly since he was in school until three, and she went to the bar at five, six times a week.
“Turn on the TV, but keep it low,” Jennifer groaned as her son cuddled up beside her. He searched for the remote, tossed amongst the blankets on the bed, found it, and turned on the TV that sat on a long dresser against one wall of the bedroom. A blue light flooded the dim room, and Jennifer groaned once more for good measure, before pulling her pillow over her head and going back to sleep.
When she awoke again, it was because her alarm was going off. Seven twenty, time to get her son ready for school. Cartoons were on the TV, but Jaxson was sleeping beside her.
“Get up,” she said, nudging her son.
“I’m tired now,”
“Mom’s are allowed to sell kids you know.”
After they had climbed out of bed, she made breakfast and got him dressed. He was at school by eight, and she was back home ten minutes later. She collapsed into bed and went back to sleep.
Jennifer rose again just after noon. Her cell was ringing. She searched for her shorts; her phone was still in the pocket, and she had taken them off just before getting back in bed. She found her phone and looked at the screen. A name was there, across it. Ryan.
Ryan was a nice guy. Maybe that was why she didn’t like him. He came into the bar sometimes, completely out of place among the blue jeans and leather. He always looked nice. He was a fit guy, a bit on the thinner side, and he wore khakis and polo shirts. His shoes were nice and shiny, and his arms bare of tattoos or scars. He was wholesome. He had a good job, he was an accountant at a company twenty miles to the east, in a much bigger town called Grove.
And he was interested in Jennifer. He hit on her whenever he came into the bar. In fact, she was pretty sure he only came in to see her. She wasn’t sure how he had come to find his way into Chuck’s the first time, but he had seen her behind the bar, and he had kept coming in. And he had kept asking her out. For over a year. She flirted with him, teased him; she found it fun. She was stringing him along, and she knew it. He was handsome, tall and dark, his skin tanned, his smile dazzling. It was just those khakis. She didn’t like those kind of guys. Something was wrong with her. She needed a good guy. She knew it. So maybe, she would give one a chance.
She answered her phone.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hey, it’s Ryan.” The man sounded surprised as if he hadn’t expected her to answer. Probably because she never usually did.
“I know, what’s up?” the young woman asked. She laid back against her pillows, holding the phone to her ear.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked. Jennifer smiled to herself.
“Lying in bed. I’m not wearing pants.”
She giggled. She knew that would drive Ryan crazy, and she knew that was rude, but she liked messing with the man too much. She heard him gulp, and she found herself thinking it was cute how intimidated he was by her.
“Oh, I can let you go,” Ryan said.
“Why did you call?” she asked.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me on Saturday. I have a work thing, down in Tempe. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but It’s a dinner. I’m uh, getting an award, and it’s a get dressed up sort of thing, and go have a free meal, and listen to boring people talk about boring accounting things, and I don’t know why I’m even bothering to ask you, because it’s starting to bore me just talking about it.”
“You’re getting an award?” Jennifer asked him.
“Yes,”
“Wow, I’ve never known anyone who got an award. What’s it for?”
“I’m the Arizona accountant of the year,” the nervous young man said.
“Ryan,” Jennifer said, “I will go with you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I can pick you up, uh, at three? We’ll be there by six then, and it starts at seven, but we can mingle, grab a drink or whatever.”
“Sounds great,” Jennifer said, and she hung up. She bit her lip as she stared at her ceiling. She wondered what she was doing. She needed a good man, a good guy. Someone who had a good job, and had to wear a tie to the office. That’s who Ryan was. She found herself feeling nervous suddenly, her stomach in a knot.
She stood up and took her tee shirt off. Then she unclipped her bra and let it fall to the floor before sliding her panties down to her feet and stepping out of them. She padded into her bathroom on bare feet, and stopped in front of the sink. If she backed up far enough, she could see most of her body, her face, her chest, her flat stomach. She was attractive. She always had been. She was the first girl in school to develop, and now, at twenty-five, her breasts were round and heavy. Her pubic hair was trimmed, a small strip above her pink slit. Her hair blonde and long, loose and framing her shoulders. Her lips were plump, and she had a small beauty mark above her lip on the right side. When she smiled, there was a dimple, just in her left cheek.
She was hot. Beautiful. And she had never been with a good man. Ever. Ryan was a good man. She was excited to go with him to Tempe that weekend; she was excited to go on a real date, with a good man. The last man she had gone on a date with was named Michael. He was an asshole, to put it simply. He never took her out; he just expected sex, and even then he never made love to her. It was just hard fucking. Hair pulling, ass grabbing.
Looking in the mirror, she wondered what kind of lover Ryan was. Would he pull her hair? Would he grab her breasts so hard that it hurt her? Would he smile when she yelled out in discomfort, or would he let up? Jennifer found herself wanting to know. She took a hot shower, thinking of Ryan. She let her hand fall between her legs, her fingers sliding over her slit. She came, and then she washed, and then she got out and dressed.
She spent a couple of hours cleaning the house, and then she went and collected Jaxson from school. They hung out for a while at home, but soon it was time for Jennifer to go to work. She dropped Jaxson off with Barbara, and then hurried to her bar.
She employed two other night bartenders, a guy in his thirties named Steven and a girl younger than her, with bigger tits and a more vacant expression named Brittany. It was Thursday, and Steven was working. One guy manned the bar during the day, seven days a week, an old man named Bert, who only had to come in from two in the afternoon, when the bar opened, to five, when the night tenders took over. Jennifer liked all of her employees, even if Brittany was rather vapid and airheaded. She also had two cooks in the kitchen who worked part time, alternating days. On that Thursday, the cook was Andre, a tall black man who had once been headed to the NBA before an injured knee brought him to the world of cooking. He was smoking a cigarette at the rear of the building when Jennifer pulled into the employee lot.
“Hey
boss,” Andre said, and he smiled. He was always smiling; Jennifer wasn’t sure she had ever met a friendlier person.
“Hey,” Jennifer said. “How’s the wife?”
Andre was married to a petite white woman four years younger than him. She was eight months pregnant and looked as though she was ready to pop at any moment.
“Sherry is fine,” Andre said.
“I thought you were kicking the cigarettes,” Jennifer said.
“Before the baby comes,” Andre said with another grin. “He ain’t here yet, is he?”
“Not yet,” Jennifer agreed, and she went inside. She got to the bar just as Bert was leaving. Steven was already there, filling a beer for the only customer in the place, an older woman with a tattoo of a rose on her throat. Everyone called her Rose, and she was a regular. She came in every day at two, shot the shit with Bernie, and then left half an hour after he did, drunk as a skunk. Jennifer liked her though she was pretty sure her name wasn’t really Rose. She was also pretty sure Rose didn’t have a job and was getting disability due to the fact that she hobbled everywhere on a cane, and could afford to do nothing but drink all day.
“Hey kid,” Rose said.
“Hey Rose,” Jennifer replied. The old woman always called her kid. Rose was a tough woman, a biker chick, clad in jeans and a black tee shirt with a Harley on the front, but she was warm and nice with Jennifer, taking on an almost motherly role.
The day wore on, and the night came fast, the burning Arizona sun dropping quickly from the sky. As it grew darker, the place filled up.
If there wasn’t, at least, one fight which spilled out into the parking lot, it just wasn’t Chuck’s. That night the fight came early, just past eight, when two men started screaming at each other over a game of pool. Punches flew, Jennifer screamed at them to take it outside, and they did so, with three fourth’s of the other patrons slipping out behind them to watch. Jennifer took advantage of the sudden slowdown and did some cleaning behind the bar. When she spun around, she was greeted by Rocky.
