Flirting with Disaster (8 page)

"I used to hate her, but I don't any more. I'm still angry at her though. Not for being a drunk, I think she couldn't help herself, but for never telling me who my father was." Ryder's thumb caressed the top of my hand in a soothing gesture and I looked up at him with a sad smile. He smiled back probably as surprised as I was by our easy connection.

"He purchased this house, you know." Ryder shook his head. Of course he didn't know. No one did. I found out by accident a few days after turning eighteen when I was served with a notice to pay years of back taxes.
 

"He did it with some complicated legal set up. The deed was in my name but my mother had a life estate on it." Ryder's frown made me explain in more detail. "He made sure my mother would be able to spend her life here if she wanted to but also made it impossible for her to sell it and drink away the proceeds."
 

"Sounds like he knew what he was doing," Ryder observed.
 

I nodded. "And he covered his tracks too, I could never get his name from the law firm that drafted the papers."

"Well, if a guy's not going a stick around. I suppose putting a roof over his child's head before he splits is not a bad move."
 

We sat in silence until a gust of wind blew all the napkins away. A new storm was coming in. We cleared the table just in time to avoid the rain and while I was piling the dishes in the sink, he surprised me by asking, "Wanna go out tonight?"
 

Without giving myself a chance to overthink it, I answered, "I would like that very much."
 

The only thing on my calendar for the day was waiting for my bed to be delivered and sorting the papers my mother had left. An evening with Ryder would be a lot more fun.
 

He smiled looking quite happy with himself. Chances were very few girls turned down his invitations. He stayed with me while I washed the dishes, telling me about the errand he had to run for his father later in the day, some fishing equipment that would be perfect for the old man. I made the appropriate noise. When I was done, he went upstairs to pick up his stuff. I heard him close the windows in the two bedrooms before he came down. Good call. The wind was getting stronger. Living in the city had dulled my seashore girl reflexes.

Ryder left just as the delivery guys arrived. Through the window, I watch them exchange a few words. Small town talk was unavoidable even two hours away from Manhattan where no one cared about anyone else's business. That was good concerning the lack of anonymity, but as a child I didn't see it that way. The men laughed and by the gestures I guessed they were making a joke about the size of the bed I had ordered. It was true, the larger of the two bedrooms was barely wide enough to fit a king size but I didn't care. Big beds were one of my few luxuries. Probably a waste since it had been a while since I’d spent a night with anyone.

Getting the mattress up the steps was a challenge but they rose to the occasion and were rewarded by a good tip. After they left, I made my bed with the sheets I purchased earlier in the week. Was it absurd to start anew in an old house? New paint, new carpet, new bed, new quilt, new pillows, new sheets, but still little old me.

I took a long shower and tested the bed with a short nap. It was just the way I liked it. When my alarm rang, the sky had cleared. I dressed and opened the window to savor the fresh air. The temperature was just right for early spring. Crisp but not cold. Perfect for a walk on the beach ... or a ride. Through the window I watched Ryder park his bike. I grabbed a warm jacket from the other room, tucked my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans and walked out to meet him. With each step I repeated to myself, this is not a date, this is not a date. He was just a sweet guy doing something nice for a long lost schoolmate who happened to be visiting and didn't know anyone anymore.

I locked the door and walked through the overgrown front yard to Ryder who held a helmet for me.
 

"Thank you," I said. "We wouldn't want to give Sheriff de Pino another chance to give me a ticket."

He laughed, "So you've been here a week and Tony has already found a way to fine you?"

"Yeah, that was my homecoming gift, the very day of my arrival." Still smiling Ryder climbed on his bike and moved it away from the fence. I climb behind him and said, "Who would have thought he would become the one to enforce law and order in this town?"
 

"He's doing a fine job, I think," Ryder commented. "Now wrap your arms around me and hold on." I did as he said or so I thought. "Come on, you can do better than that," he teased. "Grab on to me as if you never wanted to let me go."
 

A few seconds later, I was indeed grabbing him with all my might as he sped up along the road. I heard static in my ears and then a chuckle. "That's more like it." Ryder's voice resonated in the communication system.
 

"Oh, wow! This is fun," I said. "Does it work both ways?" I asked speaking softly inside my helmet.

"Sure does," he said. "But I've been known to tell some traveling companions that it didn't."

Message received, he didn't care for a chatter box. That was fine with me. I was not sure I would be capable of carrying out a conversation. Between the vibrations of the engine and the warmth of Ryder's hard body, that was probably my last coherent thought for the evening.

She first grabbed hold of me with tender paws. I planned on pushing the throttle and told her she could do better than that. At least if she wanted to stay on the back of the bike, a good grip would go a long way toward helping. There's an intimacy in riding, feeling somebody's body pressed to yours. It was a nice feeling and one of the reasons I started riding in the first place. My bike was a chick magnet.
 

Life's funny, when I was younger all I thought about was getting laid. Love them and leave them. Now, if I found a girl I wanted to stick around in the morning, it was a win. It was a rare woman who kept my attention for more than a few dates, though. I wouldn't say I was commitment phobic; I just wasn’t ready to settle down.
 

With Barbara, there was something growing between us. I couldn't place it, but it felt right.
 

"I'm going over the causeway so I can open her up. Don't let go," I warned.
 

"Right," she said, gripping me tighter. She clung to my body as I sped up, pushing the limits. The adrenaline coursed through my veins. I followed the bridge up and over the bay, and drove as far as the parkway. Shooting up the ramp, we joined the traffic and I headed a couple of towns over.
 

I knew where I was headed. There was a little place with comfortable seats and a guitar player picking at tunes. Sometimes a local band played instead. Nothing over the top, but it was a casual corner that wasn't just a shot and beer joint. There were thatched Tiki themed huts, potted palms, and Adirondack chairs in place of the usual straight bar with a line of stools. The atmosphere was tropical, even though still in Jersey. The chairs were placed randomly in groups, so it was free flowing based on your needs. I'd been here a few times in the past, but the latest make of this bar was the best. The place had changed hands over the years, going from the Bait Shack to the Sand Castle, and now Tom's Tiki Hut. Each time the ownership changed, so did the fixings, the look, and the crowd that frequented the place.
 

I pulled into the lot and parked. Barbara climbed off the back. As she lifted off her helmet, I noticed the blush in her cheeks. Her eyes danced. She couldn't help but smile. Her sweet lips curled up and her words came out with a soft laugh. "That was so much fun!"

I smiled, glad she had a good time. I watched as she shook out her wavy hair and then finger combed it. There was a goddess waiting to escape from her own tightly woven web. It was as if a caterpillar had bloomed in the last few days. She'd become more relaxed around me. We locked our helmets onto the back rack of the bike. I took her hand, not thinking, and led her to the bar.
 

"What will it be?" the bartender asked, leaning over to hear the answer. One of the speakers was nearby, and made it a little loud.
 

Barbara leaned into me and said, "Whatever's on tap is fine. I'm not choosy." I guessed she probably was, but was trying not to be finicky in front of me.

I spoke loudly, so I didn't have to say it twice. "Two bottles of Shock Top should do it." The bartender checked if we wanted the Belgian White or the Honeycrisp Apple Wheat. We opted for the first. I threw a twenty onto the bar and gestured to a set of chairs tucked on the side. "Why don't you grab those seats, and I'll be right behind you."
 

Barbara headed to the chairs I'd pointed out. Our timing was perfect. Not long after we arrived, a large group showed up. Had to get here early to grab the best seats. I settled in next to her, adjusting my chair so it was even closer. I used the excuse of the music coming through the speakers louder than I'd remembered. The scent of her perfume pulled me closer. It was intimate and sexy, a soft floral note with a hint of citrus.
 

She didn't seem to mind me inching over. With our chairs together, I could place my hand over hers.
 

"Two is my limit, then I'll need to switch to something else. I want this out of my system before we get back onto the bike," I said.

"I appreciate you thinking of my safety," she said.
 

"Are you okay?" I noticed even after laughing and having fun on the bike, like old habits, she started to stiffen up again. It seemed almost second nature. I wondered how long it would take her to break free from that mold.
 

Barbara sighed. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm not used to hanging out like this. It's nice, but sometimes it seems like I stop myself before I'm allowed to enjoy things. I don't know why. I think it's a defense mechanism more than anything. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. So tell me, why isn't a good looking guy like you married off by now?"
 

I watched her squirm and redirect the conversation back to me. It was her way of taking the spotlight off her. She wasn't used to being the center of attention. She wanted to blend into the walls, but she was too vivacious for that. She might not see it, but I knew if she could break the chains she wore, she'd be free. There was a tiger waiting to get out of her cage. She just didn't know how yet. "I guess I'm not the settling kind."
 

"Wasn't or aren't?" she asked.
 

"The older I get, the more I can see myself with a family. I like the domestic stuff. One of the things I struggle with is living in Ocean Crest. You escaped, but I'm still there. I like it, but would it be fair to a wife and children to keep them in Ocean Crest out of some damn loyalty? The schools are poorly rated, and there isn't enough money to go around, the community is run down and in need of a revival, though I don't see it happening anytime soon. So if I stay, I raise a family in an area that probably isn't the best I could do for them, and if I leave I feel like I've betrayed all the people trying to stick it out. You were one of the smart ones. You got out early, just like my brother." She watched my every word fall from my lips and looked into my eyes. I couldn't turn away. She lifted her beer and took a sip. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached over and traced her lips with my finger.
 

She pulled away quickly. Her cheeks were tinted a soft, rosy red. Had I crossed the line?

"I'm sorry," I shot out. "I'm not sure what came over me. I apologize."

Barbara stopped me. "No, it's okay. It was nice."

"Are you happy you left? Was your life better once you got away?" I forced myself to keep the conversation going. I was dangerously close to leaning over and brushing my lips to hers. This wasn't the plan. I wasn't looking for anything. And yet, there she sat, her delicious, pouty mouth beckoning me to kiss her.
 

“Oh, absolutely!" I sensed him pull away at my spontaneous answer and surprised myself by physically reaching out for him. I rested my hand on his, afraid my bluntness would sever the connection growing between us. "But I didn't run away from Ocean Crest. I ran from my mother."

He nodded. "I didn't know her, but I heard of her."
 

I liked that he was not denying she had a reputation. Chances are if his father spoke about work at home, he must have mentioned her often enough.

"In hindsight, my life was harder but I saw a bright, shiny light at the end of my tunnel. I was going places." Ryder's expression encouraged me to go on. I felt he was really interested by what my life had been like. "I studied really hard to keep my scholarship and I also worked part time. A full scholarship doesn't cover all living expenses, you know, especially in Manhattan where everything is so expensive."

"What did you do?"
 

"Nothing interesting at first. I stocked shelves in grocery stores, waited on tables, anything I could do after classes." I lost my train of thought as I realized he'd laced our fingers together. I looked up to his face and we stared at each other for an instant. Friends, we were becoming friends. That's what it was. Nothing more. "And then after my second year of college I got an internship with DCD and stayed."

"You mean you quit school?" Ryder asked.

"Oh, no!" I laughed. "I'm no amazing genius they needed to exploit right away. I got to finish college. Some guy in Human Resources decided I was a worthy long term investment so they kept me on the payroll with an adapted schedule and the understanding when I graduated I would work for them full time."

"And you were grateful for their help, so you did," Ryder commented. Not surprising since he was all about loyalty to Ocean Crest and its people.

"They even fronted the tuition for my MBA as part of a hiring package, but man, let me tell you. I paid it back in kind, time and time again. In the past six years, I've never stayed longer than four months in one place."