Page 6 of Jimmy

Brett rushed after her. “With whom?”

“Not your business.” She checked that she had her phone and keys in her purse, then pulled her sweater from her locker.

“No? I feel responsible.”

She snorted. “You do, huh? Because I went out with you those times?” She rolled her eyes. “We went to a party for the store and a couple meetings for the store. Nothing big. Not real dates.”

“Karey.” He folded his arms. “Oh, come on. It was a fun time. They all were.”

“They were fun when I walked away from you.” She closed her locker. “I need to go.” She still had to clock out.

“Who is it?” He trailed right on her heels as she punched her timecard. Why hadn’t they moved to electronic methods to do this? For all she knew, Brett liked the old-fashioned machine and was too sentimental to change it. “Tell me.”

“No.” She put her card in the holder. “I’m not your responsibility. You’re free to chase someone else.”

“Karey.”

“Good evening, Brett.” She strolled through the shop to the front door. She should’ve told Jimmy where to meet her -- not in front of the shop. She headed north on Clay Street like she was headed home.

The roar of a motorcycle caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder.

Jimmy rode up on a shiny, chrome-emblazoned motorcycle. “Hi.” He parked beside her and cut the engine, then took off his helmet. “Why are you halfway down the street?”

“Why don’t we go, and I’ll explain when we get where we’re going?” She wanted to be out of Brett’s sight.

“Sure.” He offered her a helmet. “Safety.”

He continued to amaze her. He looked rough but acted tender. He rode a motorcycle, but was concerned with her safety, not how she looked on the bike. She accepted the helmet and put it on.

“Let me help.” He adjusted the protective gear on her head, then offered his hand. “Climb on and put your arms around me. I won’t bite.”

She laughed. “What if I want you to?”

He held her gaze and grinned. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume things.” She couldn’t assume anything about him.

“You’re right.”

She climbed into the bike and settled behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist. The scent of his cologne curled around her, and she liked holding him. She’d never ridden a motorcycle but sitting with him felt right.

“Ready?” He engaged the engine and donned his own helmet, then zoomed off.

She gasped and held on tight. The wind rushed through her sweater and chilled her face. She pressed her cheek through the helmet to his back.

Instead of asking her where she wanted to go, he sped through town to the freeway. There were funky bars downtown, but diner-style restaurants over at the edge of town.

He pulled into the parking lot of one of the carhop diners. “Will this work?”

“Sure.” She was cold enough to need another jacket, but not so cold that she wanted to be anywhere else. “Thank you.”

“I wanted to take you somewhere nice, but this is good and open late.” He cut the engine.

Should she leave the bike? The last time she’d eaten here, she’d been in a car. She let go of him, but stayed on the motorcycle.

He threw his leg over the seat to stand beside the bike. “What would you like?

Her stomach rumbled. Until now, she hadn’t realized she was hungry.

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