Page 5 of The Biker's Hidden Obsession

That said, she really is too young. Too young, too damn put together, too sweet. A guy like me would ruin someone perfect like that.

I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Suppose I don’t belong at this wedding thing either, but it’ll get me out of my head for a few days, and outta this shop. I need a change of scenery.”

Red leans his elbows forward on his knees before scrubbing his hand over his face as his gaze drifts off. “I ever tell you about this gas station out in Amarillo?”

I narrow my brows. “Amarillo? No, why?”

He leans back, stretching out his legs. “When I was seventeen, I ran with this crew that thought stealing gas and raising hell was purpose. You know where I came from, so I was broke, stupid, and filled with piss and vinegar, like the other assholes I was with. One night, we were at the usual station, stealing gas. My only job was to drive. Got cocky, ran in for beers.”

He pauses and narrows his gaze like he’s back in that moment.

“Sirens started blaring, the crew took off, and I ran. I got clipped by a truck off the west side of the interstate and spent two months in the hospital with a busted leg and a nurse who damn near adopted me.” He laughs under his breath. “I realized that night I was just another hothead with a record. A disposable piece of shit.”

“Uplifting,” I laugh.

“That nurse gave me a job sweeping floors in the hospital when I got better. Wasn’t nothing great, but she told me every day that I didn’t have to be who they all said I was.” He laughs as he says, “That’s when I joined the military. It felt honorable, like I was really doin’ something with my life.” He lets out a sigh and shakes his head as though he’s getting lost in his own story. “I’m trying to say a change of scenery will be good for you, and maybe that young girl, who you shouldn’t be talking to, sees somethin’ in you that you forgot was in there.”

I shake my head and stand from the bench. “Look at you, out here reciting poetry. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

“That’s the perfect quote for the end of your stanza. It has such a good ring to it…fuckin’ idiot,” I snap sarcastically, uncomfortable with the show of emotion between us, though thankful for the conversation. I’ve known Red for the better part of my life, and I’ve never heard him talk like this. Maybe we’re all getting soft in our old age.

“I’m usually the one giving out advice. You’re usually handing out beers. I appreciate it, man.”

“Speakin’ of,” he stands and pulls open the door to the fridge that sits in the garage, “you need a cold one?”

I laugh. “Yeah, wouldn’t hurt.”

He hands a long neck bottle toward me. “I gotta say, I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Watching the guys run off with those girls, starting these meaningful lives … I never thought I wanted that. I figure you always did, though.”

“Fuck yeah.” I lower my head, staring at the old boots I’ve been meaning to replace for years now. “I thought that was part of the plan a long while back.” I lean against the toolbox and take a sip of the beer. “I’m nearly fifty, man. I thought I’d have a couple of kids in college by now, a woman next to me to take care of… I don’t know where life fuckin’ goes. One day I’m twenty-five, out in the field, trying to save the world, and the next my knees are locking up and my back is aching. My body’s tired, man. Head’s not far behind.” I take another sip of beer. “What about you? I never hear about you dating.”

He laughs under his breath and looks away before glancing back again. “I don’t know what I got to offer anyone.”

“Well, you’re an undiscovered poet. Shit, isn’t that what women want?”

“Apparently not,” he laughs and takes a swig of beer before glancing at the bike I should be working on. “Maybe I’ll try thatonline shit, see what I can find.” He drags in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Anyway, I better get movin’ so you can go back to all those wholesome thoughts of signature drinks and flower arrangements.” He turns to walk away, but glances back again. “This girl… her last name sound familiar?”

I know where he’s going with this because I’ve thought the same thing. “It doesn’t check. She’s not his daughter.”

“How do you know? She’s about the age of a girl that would be his daughter, and she has the same last name.”

“Yeah, but Victor lives in Miami now.”

“So, his daughter grew up and moved to the mountains?” He lifts his hands in the air as though he’s not trying to shake things up, but we both know he is. “Just sayin’ I’d want to know if I were into my best friend’s daughter.”

“He hasn’t been my best friend in nearly thirty years, and she’s not his daughter. White is a very common last name.”

“Makes sense,” Red groans before tapping the doorframe and heading out to do God knows what.

The screen door creaks behind him, leaving me in the silence with my lukewarm beer. I finish the rest and set the bottle down with a hollow clink, trying not to let my thoughts run wild.

There’s no way Sienna is my old buddy’s daughter,right?

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