A Bride for Jericho Bravo Page 13

  And then, again, he reminded himself that this wasn’t forever. That he served a certain purpose in her life at a time when her world was changing. That he’d better enjoy every minute he had her with him, every touch.

  Every soul-deep kiss.

  And he would.

  Oh, yeah. He would.

  Chapter Ten

  Monday morning, after Marnie got to work, Jericho came up in front from the shop. He went into Gus’s office and shut the door. When he came back out, she couldn’t stop herself from sending him a questioning glance.

  He lifted an eyebrow, but volunteered nothing.

  She didn’t push him. They were getting along great, so she didn’t worry that he’d been talking to Gus about her. If he had private business to discuss with his partner, she wasn’t butting in on that.

  Gus went home at lunchtime. He returned in a pickup, towing a flatbed trailer. She was sitting out on the stone bench under the sad pistache tree, drinking a Fresca, when he drove through the gate. She saw the gorgeous chopper he was towing and she stood up to get a look at it.

  The bike was slightly smaller than the average, airbrushed in metallic pink and black, the chromed wheels in a blade pattern, the front end raked so fine, the handlebars not quite high enough to be your classic ape hangers, the whole thing so sleek and beautiful, it sucked the breath right out of her lungs. She was already walking toward it as Gus parked the pickup.

  It was only up close and personal, leaning over the flatbed’s railing, that she saw the small, pink, looped ribbon airbrushed on the fat, bobbed rear fender. The name was written on the ribbon a flowing script: Karen.

  It was Karen McNair’s chopper.

  Marnie stepped back as Gus got out of the cab. “It’s beautiful.” She couldn’t have kept the awe out of her voice even if she’d tried.

  He skimmed off his skullcap and tossed it into the cab through the open side window. His bare head gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Rico says you want to learn to ride.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She could hardly believe what he seemed to be telling her.

  Those black eyes of his bored right through her. “If I let you borrow Karen’s bike, you will take excellent care of it.”

  “I will.” She barely got the vow out through her clutching throat. “I swear I will.”

  “You will do as Rico tells you to do. You will not get ahead of yourself. No showing off, no hanging it out.”

  “I promise. I swear.”

  His gaze never wavered. “Goggle the horizon, angel.” It was an old biker saying, one that originated with the Navy Seals. It meant Keep your head up and Drive safely.

  “I will,” she vowed again. “I will be careful. I will keep my head up.”

  And then he smiled his slow, amazing smile, the one that could light up the darkest room. “Well, all right, then.”

  Joy speared through her like a bolt of lightning. She let out a whoop and she threw herself at him.

  “Whoa,” he said, laughing, as he gathered her in, hugging her tight, spinning her around until she was dizzy with the pure joy of that most precious moment.

  Gus had loaned her Karen’s bike. She was deeply honored.

  And she was going to learn to ride.

  She started her lessons after work that day, in the SA Choppers lot.

  Jericho took her through the long series of hand signals and told her where she could look them up online to memorize them. He told her she wouldn’t be leaving the lot until she knew them all by heart.

  Then they went through the primary controls and their functions: throttle, clutch, gearshift lever, front brake lever, rear brake pedal. She already knew them. But she listened anyway, with fierce attention, aware that Gus was keeping an eye on her progress through the windows at the front of the shop, as well as of her promise to learn what Jericho taught her and learn it well.

  From there, they went on to the secondary controls: starter, cutoff switch, speedometer, tachometer, temperature gauge, turn signal switch, high/low beams, fuel supply valve, choke and ignition.

  He showed her how to run a pre-ride inspection, and the starting procedure, including proper mounting from the left side, with one hand holding the front brake lever. Then he let her start up the bike. Because the engine was cold, she used the choke.

  Once she started it safely, they spent some time on clutch control. She learned to feather the clutch—to ride with it in the friction zone, partially engaged—for better control at low speeds.

  That initial day, she was allowed to ride around the parking lot in first gear. By the end of that lesson, she could stay on and stay moving forward in a smooth, even ride, no stalling. And without lurching.

  The next day, after Jericho had tested her on her hand signals and her mastery of the simple steps he’d taught her the day before, they moved on to shifting and the concept of countersteering as well as slowing into turns. By Wednesday, she was allowed out of the lot.

  Thursday, she got up to speed on the big slab, aka, the interstate. And Friday night, in bed, after a long afternoon bike ride, they planned a short road trip to the Hill Country Sunday.

  She really wanted to make the trip last two days, to leave on Saturday. But she still needed a dress for the charity ball, which was only a week away. So Saturday was designated a shopping day. Gus had let her take the half day off and she and Tessa were combing the department stores in the morning and then having lunch on the Riverwalk together afterward.

  “I wish we could leave Saturday,” she whined for the umpteenth time.

  Jericho laughed. “It will be Sunday before you know it.”

  She stuck out her lower lip at him. “Not soon enough for me.”

  Idly, he rubbed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “I guess we could leave Saturday afternoon, if you get back in time.”

  She stuck a fist in the air. “Yes! That is what I’ve been waiting to hear. And I swear, I will have that damn dress before noon, if it kills me.”

  “Well, okay, then.”

  “So that means we’ll be staying in the Hill Country overnight?” She tried to keep her voice really casual. Really cool. Not to make a big deal out of it—even though it was a big deal.

  If they stayed over somewhere, it would be their first time to spend an entire night together. He could hardly leave her bed at midnight if they were sharing a hotel room somewhere, could he?

  And also, an overnight trip would mean more time on Karen’s chopper. She really did love to ride, loved the roaring rumble of the engine vibrating up through her torso, loved the freedom of flying down the highway on two wheels, the sun on her shoulders and the wind coming at her, pushing, wrapping around her, resisting but not breaking her forward momentum.

  Bikers called all enclosed vehicles the cage. She totally understood why now. There was nothing like the freedom of being on a big bike, the up-close contact with the outside air, the sense of power and self-determination, of direct connection to the road.

  She rolled over and rested her folded arms on his bare chest, meshing her fingers, propping her chin on them. He touched her, a long, lazy caress. From the top of her spine, between her shoulder blades, and downward, all the way, into the low sacral curve and then up onto her right buttock. He molded the shape of it.

  She tipped her head so it bumped his chin. “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard you.”

  “Overnight, then?”

  His hand started on a slow trip back up the way it had come. “We have a cabin up there, for the family’s use. I’ll see about getting the key and having the caretaker stock up the fridge.”

  “Oh, I am liking this. I am liking this a whole lot.”

  His hand slid under her hair to clasp the back of her neck. “You are, huh?”

  “I am.”

  “Then show me some gratitude.”

  She scooted down his body, until her lips were within kissing distance of his growing arousal. “Oh, I’ll show you a lot more than gratitude,
” she whispered, and proceeded to do exactly that.

  Marnie found her dress at the first vintage clothing store Tessa took her to.

  It was red, with an empire waist and thin straps that tied behind the neck. In the back, it had laces. The skirt was gored, full but not too full. And it had tiny beads sewn into the red overlay fabric, beads that glittered when she moved. Her bare shoulders and arms looked smooth and sexy in it. Plus it made her look fuller in the bust than she really was.

  Tessa said, “Wow.”

  And Marnie smiled in smug satisfaction. “That was a whole lot easier than I expected.” The price was right, too. Only sixty bucks. She had room in her budget for sparkly red high-heel evening sandals, and an antique-look choker necklace with garnet-red stones. The choker had earrings to match, so she bought those, too.

  Tessa already had her dress, but found some really nice earrings at Nordstrom’s that would look great with it. And they had lunch, as planned, on the Riverwalk at noon.

  Marnie told her sister about the thrill she got riding a chopper and about the bike trip she and Jericho were taking to the Hill Country that afternoon. “We’re staying overnight,” she said, beaming like a kid on her way to Disney World. “At the family cabin, Jericho said.”

  Tessa seemed to be studying her. “You look so happy.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “No. I mean, glowing. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since…” Tessa frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

  Marnie set down her glass of iced tea and picked up a triangle of sandwich. “What? Is that bad?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just, well, is this getting serious, between you and Jericho?”

  Marnie swallowed the bite of sandwich. It went down hard and dry. “No. It’s wonderful. Beautiful. But we’ve both agreed it’s nothing serious, nothing permanent.”

  Tessa leaned closer across the small table they shared. “Agreements change.”

  Marnie waved a hand, trying to be casual and easy—but almost knocking over her glass of tea. “Oh, I don’t think so. I think, when the regular office person comes back from maternity leave, I’ll be heading home to California, the way we planned.”

  “We?”

  “Me. You. Remember? I did promise you that I wouldn’t stay forever.”

  Tessa said, “But you could stay forever. I would love it if you stayed.”

  Marnie saw Jericho’s face, suddenly, the grim set to his sexy mouth, the strong brow, the deep, watchful green eyes. She heard his voice again, heard what he’d told her the first night they made love.

  But I like it on my own. I’m not up for any long-term thing, not into settling down.

  He always left her in the middle of the night. And she’d yet to even see the house where he lived….

  “Marnie?” Tessa was frowning at her, a frown of sisterly concern.

  She reminded herself that she was having a fabulous time. And just because her love affair with Jericho had an expiration date didn’t make it any less than exactly what she needed right now. Plus, they’d only been lovers for a week and a half, certainly not long enough for her to start spinning fantasies about forever.

  Most likely, her irrational yearning for a more permanent relationship with Jericho was simply part of the process of getting over a big breakup. She was transferring her feelings for Mark onto Jericho. She needed to stop that. She needed to remember that Jericho was her hot rebound guy and she was fine with that.

  And besides, he would be staying the whole night with her. Tonight.

  “I’m all right,” she said, and pretty much meant it. “Though now and then, I just wish…”

  Tessa leaned even closer. “What? Tell me.”

  Marnie sat up straight and shook her head. “No. Nothing. I like things just the way they are. Temporary. And terrific. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Marnie was ready when Jericho picked her up at the guesthouse at three.

  She wore jeans, boots, a T-shirt and a denim jacket she could tie around her waist. She also had a fanny pack that carried the barest essentials: driver’s license, cash and a toothbrush.

  They drove to the shop, where they switched from his car to the choppers. He locked up the chain-link gate and turned the alarm back on behind them and they were on the road.

  In no time, they were out of town and on the open highway, heading north, the land that rushed past them swiftly changing, growing greener as they rolled deeper into the Hill Country. It was a little late in the season for the famous Texas bluebonnets. But still, there were plenty of wildflowers to enjoy—whole fields of them, in yellow and purple, white and delicate pale blue.

  They stopped in Fredericksburg for a while to check out a museum there and grab a cold drink. Jericho told her that Fredericksburg and much of the Hill Country had been settled by immigrants of German descent.

  Next, they detoured over to Luckenbach, which was hardly more than a couple of weathered barns and some picnic tables tucked under the shade of old oak trees. Jericho said that one of those barns was where Willie Nelson used to play with Waylon Jennings.

  After Luckenbach, Jericho took her to the family cabin, which was a few miles north of Fredericksburg, down a dusty driveway, in the middle of a gorgeous field of wild grasses and flowers. The cabin was simple on the outside, of unpainted pine. Inside, it had everything to make their stay comfortable: a modern kitchen, an attractive living area. And a bedroom with a big, wide bed.

  The caretaker had been there and stocked the fridge with food. They took a couple of beers out to the blue-painted bentwood chairs on the front porch and sat for a while, talking about the shop, about the new suppliers she’d lined up to manufacture the merchandise for the gift area. And about the welder’s art. Jericho claimed a workday wasn’t complete if he hadn’t fired up his welder’s torch at least once.

  He asked the important question. “So, did you find the dress you were looking for?”

  “I did.”

  “Then you’re all ready for the ball, huh?”

  “That’s right. What about you? Got a tux?” she asked, just to watch him look horrified at the very idea.

  But he surprised her. He pointed the mouth of his longneck her way. “As it happens, I own a tux. I may be the troublemaker of the family, but I still have to put in appearances at black-tie events now and then.”

  “I’ll bet you look super-hot in it.”

  “You can decide for yourself about that next week.” He drank from his beer. “Hungry?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s ride some more.”

  They put on their helmets and climbed on the bikes. He took her down past Kerrville and through Bandera and then north again through Boerne. She loved every minute, every mile of that ride.

  When they returned to the cabin that time, it was after eight. Her backside was aching and her bones kept rattling, even after she climbed off the chopper and had both feet firmly planted on solid ground. Not that she was complaining. Choppers had a hard ride and Karen’s bike was no exception. A chopper was built for style and speed. It wasn’t that agile on turns. And if you wanted comfort, you should get yourself a touring bike.

  Jericho fired up the gas grill behind the cabin and grilled them some steaks while she poured a bag of spring-mix lettuce into a wooden bowl and added tomatoes and avocado. They ate. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she took the first bite.

  He laughed and said he liked a woman with an appetite.

  She had an appetite, all right. For a nice, thick steak. And then for him.

  They made love fast and hard. And then again a while later, much more slowly. She drifted off to sleep content on every level, thinking that the past afternoon and evening had been about as perfect as any day could get.

  Jericho watched her sleeping.

  She hugged her pillow and a slight smile curved her lips. Probably dreaming of rolling down the highway on Karen’s chopper. Funny how
she took to riding. Like a fish to water, like a bird to the wild blue yonder. And she wasn’t like a lot of women, just wanting to ride along. She was no fender bunny.

  Uh-uh. She had the spirit of a true biker, a passion for the art of motorcycling. It was going to be real hard to say goodbye to her.

  But he would.

  It was three weeks since she started working for him. And three weeks until her temporary job at SA Choppers was over and she returned to California. Three weeks until The End.

  That was how he’d started thinking of it. As The End.

  It would be way too easy to get attached to her. But that wasn’t going to happen. It was all going to go down as planned. As agreed on.

  Which was fine. Good. Just the way it ought to be. He didn’t know why his mind insisted on wandering into forbidden territory, on daydreaming about what it might be like if she stayed.

  Probably because three weeks seemed like much too short a time. The End was coming at them way too fast.

  She sighed and snuggled deeper into the pillow. A silky-straight lock of her hair fell across her mouth and then fluttered with each breath. He reached over and smoothed it back. The feel of her skin against the pads of his fingers was magic to him. Just that small, light contact got him turned on again. Only a touch, and he wanted to wake her, to make love to her again.

  But no. He wasn’t going to do that. He was going to leave her the hell alone and let her sleep.

  Flopping over to his back and lacing his hands behind his head where they wouldn’t be so tempted to reach for her, he stared at the shadowed ceiling. He probably shouldn’t have brought her up here to the cabin in the first place. The main point was supposed to be not to get too attached, not to do stupid things like spend a whole night in the same bed with her.

  But here he was, staying the night.

  He’d done a boatload of stupid things in his life. Enough that he’d let himself believe that he’d been stupid in every way possible. Not so. Lately, a whole new meaning of the word was opening up for him.

  Stupid over a woman. Stupid over Marnie Jones.