by Jen Peters
“Good thing, or you’d starve every day until you shower.”
“I’ll be clean and shiny again this evening.”
A wicked gleam shone in her eyes. “Oh? Is that an invitation?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe. But only for someone who can stand the frequent smell of dirt and grease. And fried chicken.”
She chuckled. “Well, then, I guess I’m out. I’m only allowed fried chicken on the second Tuesday of the month, and only if it’s cloudy.”
Brandt roared with laughter. The lady had more wit than he’d ever expected. “I’ll keep an eye out for cloudy second Tuesdays, then.”
She smiled, and he swore there was something deeper in her eyes. Something intriguing. Something pulling him in. Then her eyes cleared, and she said, “I’ve got to go. I need to set some stuff up before my shift starts.”
He nodded goodbye, then stopped. “Hey, Raine, I don’t know what you have planned that you need grant money for—”
“Don’t like the thought of competition, huh?” she broke in.
“But a biking event will put this place on the map,” he continued.
“I would think this town could use more than one event.” Her green eyes were snapping now.
“I’m sure it could, but there’s only enough grant money for one.”
“And it has to be yours?”
“I can’t think of anything else that will pull people to come back regularly, even when there are no special occasions going on.” Focus, Walker. Stop admiring those eyes and that mouth.
“Yes, but if there are several special occasions, we’ll get different sets of people, all ready to spend money each time.” Raine crossed her arms. “Actually, I was wondering, after I win the grant money, if you’d be interested in putting on a mountain bike clinic as part of a community day. And if you’d like help planning your event, all you need to do is ask.”
The nerve of her! And how had they gone so quickly from flirting to fighting? His mind and body had been warring with each other, but he tamped the attraction down now. “You’d better not feel like you can waltz back into town and steal it from those of us who have been making plans all year.”
She gasped. “You’ve got no right to say that!” She stepped closer and poked him in the chest. “People change all the time. And people who have everything handed to them on a silver platter should—”
Brandt couldn’t help himself. He dropped his grocery bags and silenced her with a kiss, one hand behind her head to keep her steady. Her mouth was firm…and still. He broke it off and backed up a stride. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She stared at him, fury in her eyes. “No, you shouldn’t have.” Then she stepped forward and pulled his head down to hers.
She was strong, meeting his lips with a pressure and a need he hadn’t expected. He returned in kind, deepening the kiss, both giving and taking. He felt her arms around him, hands splayed across his back. He wrapped her in his, anchoring them both.
He pulled back finally, then kissed her softly. Gently. “Wow.”
“You can say that again,” she whispered.
He ran his hands through his hair. “Uh, what now?”
She took a deep breath and looked around at the not-quite-empty parking lot. “Now, I think we get back to normal. We both have projects to work on, and this can’t go anywhere.”
“Right.” He needed to agree with her even if his heart was pounding, and he yearned to kiss her again. Needed to remember that they were on opposing sides of a competition, that he needed to keep it to business as usual.
She continued into the store, a sashay in her step. He watched until she was inside, then picked up his groceries and headed down the street to Trailhead Bikes. Business as usual wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter 11
The next day, Raine was still reeling from Brandt’s kiss. The soft feel of his trimmed beard. The mingled smell of soap and bicycle grease.
Raine looked out the front display windows in between customers. She’d spent part of her shift last night, when she wasn’t thinking about a certain mountain biker, confirming arrangements and making sure the last details for today’s event were in place.
Now, the hot dog grill outside the front doors was doing a great business. Kids were bouncing all around the roped off area getting their faces painted. And when folks were done eating, most of them came in the store to buy something.
She rang up customers and straightened shelves during her downtime, which wasn’t much. The Coke vs. Pepsi pyramid she had staged kept getting demolished by people taking a case to purchase. Which was good, but why didn’t they take them from the stack right next to it?
There was a rush at the register, and Evelyn Hatcher was the first one through. Raine smiled at her, glad they’d had time to talk the day before.
“Looks like they’re having fun,” Evelyn said, nodding toward the kids outside. “Your doing?”
Raine grinned. “Yup, and the way it’s going, I think Sam will agree to a couple of the other ideas I had.”
“Cool. Or what’s the word the kids use these days? Righteous?” Evelyn laughed. “That’s probably outdated too, but you know what I mean.”
She said goodbye, and Raine greeted the next customer, quiet Linda from Chelsea’s group. She held a baby on her hip.
“Wow, Linda, it’s good to ese you again,” Raine said. “All settled down with a family, huh?”
Linda gave a soft smile to her baby. “Yup. You know I was never cut out for the exciting stuff.” She looked out at the happy kids. “So the face-painting was your idea?”
Raine gave her a wry smile. “Yes, and so was the hot dog grill. It’s not a huge event, but planning things was what I did before I moved back.” She hoped it would be again, but McCormick’s Creek just wasn’t big enough for a full-scale event planner. For now, though, this was fine.
Word about who was responsible passed down the line. Some people shrugged, but some who had been chilly the week before actually said hello with a smile. Maybe it wouldn’t take a year to get people to see who she was now, instead of who she had been.
“Hello, Lorraine.”
Raine looked up at the next customer. “Hi, Mrs. Cooper. How are you today?”
“Fine, just fine.”
Raine scanned oranges and pecans. “You making your famous cinnamon rolls?”
Mrs. Cooper nodded. “Robin asked for some tomorrow morning.”
Raine didn’t know what to say. Ask how Robin was? Say nothing?
“I hear all this,” Mrs. Cooper waved her hand to the outside activity, “was your idea.”
Raine nodded and totaled the sale.
Mrs. Cooper swiped her credit card. “Good job,” she said.
Half in shock, Raine watched her leave. No scolding, no mention of past problems at all. Even a short compliment! She shook herself out of it and turned to the next customer.
Outdoors, the hot dogs ran out in an hour, but the face-painting still drew families. It helped that it was a gorgeous, crisp day with no rain in sight. By the time the afternoon was over, Raine knew that the day’s sales were high. She just didn’t know if the success would be offset by a drop in business for the next couple of days. She mentioned that to Sam.
“Maybe,” he said, “but it was a lot of fun and goodwill, and we didn’t have to do anything but supply the space.” He finished in a bad movie star accent. “You did good, kid, you did real good.”
Raine laughed. “Next up, something with Christmas elves. No, Thanksgiving first. No, Halloween!”
“Gotta keep your calendar straight, right?”
She grinned. “Do the kids still trick-or-treat at the businesses in the afternoon?”
“Yup.” He leaned closer, a gleam in his eye. “I’m going to be Santa giving out early treats.”
“So you don’t have to get another costume?”
“You got it! Anyway, good job today, and enjoy yo
ur couple days off!”
It was only five o’clock, and Raine was somehow still bouncing with energy. Maybe she’d pop into Trailhead Bikes and say hi to Brandt.
Or not.
Brandt was in her own parking lot, talking to a frazzled-looking father of twin girls. She watched as Brandt took one of them to the face painting booth, and then held her hand as she skipped back to her father, sporting a unicorn on her cheek. He seemed kind and patient, not quite the same vibes he gave off as a competitive mountain biker.
She started in his direction, then hesitated again. Was this such a good idea? They had agreed that things should get back to normal, that their attraction couldn’t go anywhere. Raine knew that, knew she needed more time to ground herself in her new persona before getting involved with anyone again.
But still…that kiss. The racing heart when she saw him, the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her. Well, at least when he wasn’t being defensive with her.
Which reminded her that they were coming up against each other for the grant money. Someone would win, and someone would lose, and that was a lot for a new relationship to take.
Brandt talked to someone else briefly, then walked across to his store. Raine watched him go in, watched the Trailhead Bikes sign shift colors slightly as the late-afternoon light changed.
She turned away. She had a proposal to write.
* * *
Brandt spent Sunday morning on the trails, pushing himself on the climbs, reveling in the wind in his face through the descents.
He had a harder time staying focused in the easier spots—Raine’s intelligent sea-green eyes, the way one side of her mouth smiled a smidge more than the other, the snap in her voice…
She was one determined lady, and he had to admire the way she was reinventing herself. He didn’t know how much of her story was true, but it didn’t matter. She was starting from scratch here and working hard to build the life she wanted—just like he was. It was too bad they were fighting each other for the town funding.
He took another curve and refocused on his ride, controlling the bike, mastering obstacles…until the next time her smile crept into his mind.
He finished Sharptail with a mad sprint on the bottom quarter-mile, sweaty and out of breath and checking his watch. He just had time for a shower before he needed to take over from Rudy at the shop.
An hour later, Brandt was trying to keep his mind occupied by fixing the shelf along his south wall, but Raine’s laugh kept working its way in.
His wrench slipped, and he cursed under his breath. This was as bad as trying to work on his website. Why anybody designed shelving units where you couldn’t get in to fix them, he never knew. But unless he could tighten this one spot, the shelf would collapse again, and picking up scattered lights and reflectors would be about as much fun as trying to keep Raine off his mind.
“That looks like fun,” she’d say, eyes sparkling.
“Go away,” he told the voice. “I can’t concentrate with you around.”
“Well, if that’s the way you really feel…” Her heels clicked on against the floor tiles.
Wait a minute—he might imagine her voice, but his mind couldn’t conjure the impact of her footsteps on the floor. “Raine? Raine!” His wrench skittered across his knuckles, and he clamped his mouth against the words that wanted to come out. He twisted his body and worked his way out from behind the display.
She tossed her head, and her hair swung over her shoulders, something he’d only seen in a movie. “I thought you told me to go away.”
“I…uh…I’m sorry, I’m a bit…frustrated.” He waved to the shelf behind him, then wiped his hands on his jeans. Be a professional, he reminded himself, not a hormone-ridden schoolboy. “What can I do for you?”
She ran her hand across a helmet on display. “Do you sell a lot of these?”
“Some. Depends on the website, or who’s in town that wants to try mountain biking.”
“So what would you suggest for a beginner?”
“Helmets for everyone, especially beginners.” He pulled one off the shelf.
“Purple sparkles?” she asked.
“Sure, why not?” He settled it on her head, then leaned close to fasten the strap under her chin. He felt her breath on his face. “How’s that?” he whispered, not moving his head.
She didn’t say anything, just continued to breath lightly.
“Raine?” He brought his head back an inch or two.
She answered softly. “It’s perfect.”
He turned his head. She was so close. His eyes searched hers.
She reached a hand halfway to his face. He dipped his head a fraction, not quite meeting her lips.
The door chimed. A customer entered.
They jerked apart, and Raine looked away while Brandt got an inner tube for the customer’s tire. Raine was still there when he finished, but was all business again.
“I was wondering about your summer event,” she said. “How many people are you planning on getting in?”
“In the first year? Thirty, maybe fifty. Why?”
“And it will benefit your shop?”
He shrugged. “I certainly hope so—I have accessories and parts if bikers need anything while they’re here. But it will help the restaurants and stores, too.”
She nodded, her soft brown hair swaying in time.
He wished he could turn the clock back ten minutes and finish what they’d started. “What’s this all about, anyway?”
She fiddled with a bike lock. “I’m an event planner. I’d be happy to help with yours, but I’m working on something that would bring in three times that many people.”
“So? It’s a long summer, there’s room for more than one event.”
She looked him in the eye. “So these tourism grants. There’s not a lot of money to go around, and I think mine is more worthwhile than yours.”
Whoa, talk about flinging down a gauntlet! But he’d be happy to pick it up. Dueling with her was exhilarating. “Just so you know, the whole town knows about my plans and they back them completely. You may have grown up here, but you’ve been gone a long time. Maybe next year.”
“Maybe time doesn’t have to do with it as much as putting on a successful event. And I bet I’m better at that than you.”
“You might be, but I’m a better mountain biker. Neither of those matter right now.” How had an almost-kiss degenerated into another fight?
“Oh, it matters. And I could be good at mountain biking if I wanted to.”
“You? With your designer clothes and perfect nails? You couldn’t ride Devil’s Hill if you tried.”
“Could too.”
“Could not.”
“Could too. Try me.”
They sounded like four-year-olds, but she was really pushing his buttons. He crossed his arms and stared into those perfectly made up eyes. “OK, you’re on. When’s your next day off?”
“Today and tomorrow.” There was no smile in her eyes now.
“Fine. Be here tomorrow at nine. I’ll get Rudy to take the store.”
“I will.” She crossed her arms and stared him down.
He turned away, not sure whether he wanted words to slam her down or to yank that lovely mouth to his. He finally picked up his wrench again and scooted behind the shelf unit. “Oh, and wear something you don’t care much about—I guarantee you’re going to hit the dirt.”
Chapter 12
The next morning, Raine sat rigidly in the back of Mick’s truck as they drove up a gravel fire road. Brandt had sized her, matched her to a bike, fitted her with a helmet and gloves. He’d given her a bike with flat pedals because she was used to street riding, so at least she didn’t have to worry about getting her feet stuck in the clips. He’d left his truck at the bottom of the trail so they could get home.
He’d done everything necessary, and now they were headed up to the top, breathing dust and trying to hold their bikes steady.
How could she hav
e been so reckless? What on earth had possessed her to accept his challenge? She couldn’t even blame it on growing up with daredevil brothers—she was an only child.
And now she was going to die.
She’d heard stories about Devil’s Hill, and now, after watching those videos on YouTube last night, she was sure. Today was her last day on earth.
She rubbed her hands on her new biking shorts. She examined her nails, still pink but filed down to an athletic level. She fingered her ponytail, set low on her neck to accommodate the helmet.
“Nervous?” Brandt asked, glancing sideways at her.
She steeled herself. “Me? Never.”
“I have to admit I thought you’d back out. But you’ve got guts.”
Miles up the mountain—at least it seemed like miles—Mick parked in an open space covered with pine needles and came around to let the tailgate down.
“At least we have good weather today,” Brandt said, lifting the bikes down to him.
Raine worked her hands into her gloves and fastened her helmet. It was a beautiful day. High sixties and dry—a perfect day to die on. A whisper of a voice, a voice she’d only heard once in a long time, told her she should stop now.
“Thanks, Mick, ‘preciate it.” Brandt waved as the truck drove off, then grinned, a gleam in his eye. “Ready?”
She stared him down. Despite the little voice, she was not going to have him gloating over her for backing out. “Ready.”
“You do know that if you hit your front brake too hard, it will flip you, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course. I said I’d been on a bike before.”
He clipped his helmet strap and started down a wide, flat trail. She followed, her nerves relaxing. This wasn’t so bad—the trail curved around some trees, and there was a bump or two, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Devil’s Hill—hah!
And then she caught up to him.
Brandt had gotten off his bike. He looked down the hill, then back at her with a somewhat pale face. “This is where it really starts,” he said. “And you shouldn’t do it.”
