Page 6 of The Overdue Kiss

No big chain stores or flashy neon signs crowd the streets like in Denver. Most of the businesses are locally owned with cute little names like “Lula Belle’s Cafe” and “Clips and Curls.” Everything is conveniently within walking distance and located right in the heart of town. Coffee shop, bookstore, bar, antique shop, bakery—more than I expected. More shops continue down the side streets, and behind Main Street is a long stretch of grass where a small group of kids are playing soccer under the streetlights, enjoying the last hours of their summer vacation. It’s relaxed and quaint, with a handful of people strolling down the sidewalks, some even lifting a hand to wave as we pass.

I could easily imagine spending my day wandering down the main strip and window-shopping. With Mamá’s birthday this weekend, this will be the perfect place to find her a handmade birthday gift.

I’m still window-shopping when the engine cuts off, and I realize we’re parked on the curb in front of Mountain Auto Repair.

Strangely enough, I catch myself hesitating to hop off. My blood is still pumping from the ride, and I restrain myself from requesting a few more times around the block. I’m sure this man isn’t expecting to get stuck with me for the rest of the evening and is ready to continue on with his life.

He pats my hand, a signal more than for reassurance this time. “We’re here.”

“Right.” I clear my throat and untangle my arms from around him. Unprepared for a far drop, I slide awkwardly from the bike, stumbling a few steps before he reaches out to stabilize me.

“Careful,” he says.

“My legs feel like Jell-O.” I laugh, my knees still trembling from the vibration. I can’t see his mouth, but his eyes crinkle.

“It happens to all the first-timers. It will go away the more you ride.” He squeezes my forearm and gently pulls me closer. “I’ll take your helmet off for you. The latch can be tricky.”

“Okay,” I mumble, lost in his silver eyes through the visor. Such beautiful, kind eyes that almost have me believing that this guy is different from the other men I have met before. This is no Felipe.

But... that would be silly to think from one look.

Shaking off these romantic notions, I return both the helmet and gloves. What has gotten into me? I blame the motorcycle. Who wouldn’t swoon if they were rescued by a handsome biker?

“Seriously, Des, you were a lifesaver. I’d still be on that mountain if you hadn’t come along. Thank you.”

He shrugs as if embarrassed by my gratitude.

“I can see why people love riding on these. It really was kinda of fun there at the end.”

We’re still so close, but neither of us shift to move away. Those dang butterflies take flight in my stomach as he continues to stare at me. It’s a thoughtful look, like I’m some intricate puzzle he’s trying to solve.

“You can ride with me any time.” The statement is soft, and I wonder if he meant to say it aloud. He shakes his head and points to the building. “Hurry up and go inside while I park. You have eight minutes before this place closes. Small town problems. Oh, ask for Reese.”

The engine roars to life, startling me back a step. Then he takes off, leaving me clutching my purse on the sidewalk, my insides in knots. An older couple sits on a bench blatantly staring and whispering. Before they think to come over, I dart inside the small building.

I didn’t expect to step right into the garage instead of the waiting area. Strong odors of oil and tire rubber fill the air, and the clunking of metal sounds in the direction of a car hoisted a few feet in the air. There’s no one in the vicinity, so I call out, hoping not to frighten anyone with my presence.

“Hello? I’m looking for Reese. Can you tell me where to find him?”

The noise stops, and a slender blonde woman slides out from under the car. Her overalls are splattered in dark stains similar to the greasy smudge on her pink cheek. A checkered bandana is tied beneath her messy bun and matches her navy denim. If Hasbro made a mechanic Barbie doll, this woman would be their inspiration.

“That’s me.” She wipes her hands down the front of her overalls. Her gray eyes dart to the clock on the wall and back to me. “What can I do for you?”

“Des is parking the bike, but he told me to ask for you.”

“Oh?” Her eyes twinkle, and her professional grin melts into something mischievous. “Oooh.That was a quick dinner. I’m guessing things went well if he brought you to meet his sister after one date.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Was it love at first sight?”

My cheeks heat at her assumption, and I struggle to form my next sentence as a thousand questions hit me about his dating life. This is not the conversation I thought I’d be having when I walked in here.

“I—what? No, we were not on a date.” The floral scent from his helmet suddenly makes sense. So he doesn’t have a girlfriend... not that it matters. “I mean, he could have been on one earlier, but it was not with me.”

“Yet you are wearing my brother’s jacket.”

His jacket.Goodness.I forgot it was still on. Shrugging it off, I drape it over my arm. “He said it was for protection while we were riding.”

Her smile dips. “He let you ride on his bike? Des? Okay, now I don’t believe you.”

“Just give me a second to explain,” I beg, my palms in the air. “I’m here for professional reasons only.”

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