Beauty & the Biker (13 page)

“Someone catch me up,” Sinjun said, and before Bella could speak, everyone else relayed her developing saga with the Bad Boy of Nowhere. “You kissed a stranger?” she asked Bella with a hint of a smile. “So how was it?”

“Magical.” Bella beamed, clutching her bandaged hands to her pounding heart. Savage had kissed her a second time. A kiss that sizzled through her veins, promising more—sooner or later. Even though he’d nixed the idea of her moving in, he’d made no bones about his amorous intentions.

“By magical,” Emma said, “I assume you mean hot. Why am I not surprised? That man is sex on a stick.”

“Tall, dark, and handsome?” Sinjun asked.

“Gorgeous, dangerous, and jacked,” Georgie said.

“He’s not dangerous,” Bella said. “He’s one of the good guys. Or at least he was.”

“Meaning?” Emma asked.

“He’s an ex-cop,” Chrissy chimed in.

Bella gaped at her cousin. “How do you know that?”

“And why are we just hearing about it?” Emma asked.

“Don’t get bent, Bella,” Chrissy said, “but I reached out to Ryan.”

“I told you not to do that!”

“You told Georgie not to do that.”

“What’s done is done,” Georgie interrupted. “So what did my brother say?”

“Not much,” Chrissy answered, “other than Savage was a detective with the Chicago Police Department for fourteen years and that he recently resigned.”

Although Bella was irritated that her cousin had involved the county sheriff, she listened to what she had to say, hoping to glean more insight. Unfortunately, Ryan hadn’t told Chrissy anything Bella hadn’t already learned from Savage. In fact, she knew more. Chrissy said nothing about Savage working undercover which meant that he’d mingled with mobsters which was a whole different kind of scary. For now, Bella kept that detail to herself. She did, however, add that he was an artist who painted murals and logos on bikes and hot rods.

“So see,” Bella said. “No cause for alarm. He’s not a serial killer or a member of a motorcycle gang. Just a man who walked away from a dangerous job to pursue a gentle career in the arts. Further proof that ID-dot-com was dead on in their recommendation.”

“What the hell is ID-dot-com?” Emma asked.

“An Internet site,” Angel said. Buzzing with the thrill of knowing something her friends didn’t, she leaned closer to the computer screen. “Stands for Impossible Dream. Apparently they’ve been making magic since 1956.”

Everyone stared as Bella took over and relayed specifics.

Chrissy spoke first. “Some matchmaking site declared Joe Savage your Prince Charming and you’re swallowing that bunk hook, line, and sinker?”

“There was more to it than that,” Bella said, trying not to sound defensive. “They also pegged him as my dream partner. Didn’t you hear the part where I said Savage is an artist? I’ve seen his work. It’s stunning. Now if I can just persuade him to draw unicorns and fairies.”

“Sorry,” Georgie said, “but I can’t picture biker dude, an ex-cop no-less, illustrating a children’s fairy tale book.”

“Did you mention Impossible Dream to Savage?” Emma asked.

“Of course not. I don’t want him to think I’m crazy.”

The brows of every Inseparable crept to their hairline.

“I’m not crazy,” Bella said. “I’ve got…derring-do.”

Those same brows scrunched.

“Don’t rain on my parade just because I have the guts to reach for the seemingly impossible instead of giving up or settling.”

Georgie winced. “Ouch.”

“Derring-do,” Emma said while looking at her phone. “A daring spirit or deed; boldness or bold action. Thank you
Free Dictionary
.” She glanced back to Bella, looking insulted. “Hey. I’ve got a boatload of derring-do.”

“Not when it comes to setting your sights on what you deserve,” Bella said. “A happily-ever-after with your true love.”

“I’m not sure I believe in true love,” Emma said. “Not in the way you do. Not as in a soul mate.”

“I hate that phrase,” Chrissy said.

“I was lucky enough to have two soul mates,” Angel said. “I can’t believe the universe would bless me with a third.”

More than ever, Bella was determined to make a go of it with Savage, to prove to her friends that love moves in mysterious ways and sometimes the most unlikely person is the perfect person. If her fanciful heart got squashed in the end, she’d live. She’d rather risk it all than be haunted by “what if”.

“
Life’s short
,” she could hear her mom say.

“You’re being awfully quiet, Sinjun,” Bella said.

“Just feeling proud and inspired by you, my friend.” Sinjun smiled, one of those kind, wise smiles that instilled comfort and confidence. “I can’t think of anything worse than watching the stars float by rather than shooting for them.”

Chapter Eleven

Once upon a Saturday…

Chrissy woke up in a crummy mood. She did that a lot. Mostly because she tossed and turned every night dreaming about the man who’d broken her heart. The man who’d wooed her for a week, seduced her into bed, and pronounced them soul mates the morning they’d returned to their real lives. The man who, two months later, had renounced their baby’s existence threatening to sic his lawyers on her should she contact him again. Actually that letter had been issued by his father and the family lawyer. She’d not only fallen for a liar, but a coward. A man who hid behind his rich and influential daddy. To this day, Chrissy had withheld Mason’s true identity from her family and friends. Her dad and brother would kick his ass if they knew where to find him. She couldn’t risk angering his SOB father. Not that Mason didn’t deserve a good ass-kicking, but she was far more concerned with shielding her loved ones from the wrath of the richest family in Nebraska.

Her bed bounced with the weight of a petite four-year-old, calling Chrissy to the present. Heart full, she pushed herself up against the pillows and smiled at the most precious little girl God ever created. She spoke and signed simultaneously. “Hi, baby.”

Melody signed back.
Hi, Mama
.
Go town
?

Most children uttered their first word around six months and then went on to speaking two to four word sentences by the time they were two-years old. Melody was four now and though she was capable of making sounds, she’d yet to form audible words. Chrissy, her parents and Zeke, the Inseparables, and an audiologist and speech therapist had made sure she had the skills, but Melody resisted, relying instead on sign language, finger-spelling, pictures, and a few written words. Early on she’d lagged behind other children her age due to her compromised language skills, but Melody was wicked bright and this year something clicked. She’d advanced in leaps and bounds—especially with written communication. Soon Chrissy would have to make hard decisions regarding Melody’s education, but for now, she was determined to cater to her daughter’s happiness.

Today Melody’s deepest and most avid desire was to attend the Arts and Fiddler Festival. The mere thought of having to endure the sounds of some of the best bluegrass musicians in the country—especially the fiddlers—twisted Chrissy’s heart in a bloody knot.

Once upon a time music had been her life. That passion died when the doctor pronounced her baby deaf. How could she enjoy something her daughter would never hear? Art, a visual medium, was a vastly different story and, oh, how Melody loved arts and crafts. No way would Chrissy deny her daughter the sights and activities of the lively festival—even as the music sliced and diced her own soul.

Ninety-minutes later, they were on the road and headed to the city park and rodeo grounds. Chrissy resigned herself to spending most of the day at the festival. Melody was stoked about the pancake breakfast, browsing the craft booths, playing games, and watching her uncle and grandpa compete in the horseshoe tournament. Her grandma would be there co-hosting the quilting show, something she used to do with her sister-in-law, Bella’s mom. This would be the first A&F Festival without Aunt Laura. Chrissy wondered if Uncle Archie would stay away because of that or maybe he’d attend for nostalgic reasons. Bella had to be feeling somber. Her mom had been an active member of the quilt club and this was a big day for that group. But Bella hadn’t said a word.

A perpetual ball of sunshine, unlike Chrissy, Bella had a tight rein on exhibiting negative emotions—especially sorrow. She was also tightlipped when it came to badmouthing anyone hence her glossing over the break-up with Carson. Chrissy had never been sold on their romance in the first place, but he’d made Bella happy—or at least less sad for a while. Chrissy gave Carson credit for trying to woo back her cousin. Any man would be lucky to have Bella. But now with Savage in the picture, Carson was probably screwed, and not in the way he’d like to be.

The fact that Bella kept jumping to Savage’s defense was a strong indication that she’d fallen fast and hard for the man. Had Savage fallen for her as well? Or was he simply interested in a no-strings lay? Chrissy’s stomach ached every time she thought about the way Bella lit up when she’d described their last interlude.

Magical
.

Chrissy’d had magical with Mason and look how that turned out. Although she did have Melody. Thank God for Mel.

She blew out breath, exhausted by her runaway thoughts and the way they kept jumping tracks. Some days she managed to live in the present instead of fretting over the past and future. Today was not one of those days.

Her daughter strained at her safety constraints, leaning forward in anticipation as they neared the already crowded parking lot. Melody was oblivious to the laughter and chatter of various families as they exited their cars as well as the music floating on the summer breeze, but she was riveted by all the activity and sat grinning ear-to-ear.

Chrissy massaged what sometimes felt like a perpetual ache in her chest where her daughter was concerned. More than anything, she wanted what was best for Mel.

Several aspects from last night’s video chat with the Inseparables kept niggling at her, but none so strongly as the concept of that Internet site, Impossible Dream. A company designed to perpetuate miracles? Were they for real? Could they bless or empower her daughter in some special way? Chrissy wasn’t fanciful like Bella, but she was curious. She just had to figure out how to phrase her deepest desire. If she was going to shoot for the stars, she wanted to aim high and true. She wanted
magic
.

* * *

Joe was finishing his morning coffee when he heard a familiar puttering. Glancing toward the lavender fields, he noted the Mooney’s red riding mower rolling toward Funland. He would have preferred a glittery ball gown and golden curls over the Husker’s ball cap and plaid work shirt. Even from a distance he could see the stubborn set of Archie’s shoulders and jaw. Yesterday he’d insisted on extending his landscaping skills to the park. Joe refused the offer, declaring them square on the gambling debt. Damned if the man hadn’t argued. Joe’s mind had been so full of Bella, he’d forgotten Archie’s vow to return.

Frowning, Joe pushed out of the porch swing, prompting Killer to yowl. When he moved into the house to pull on a shirt and shoes, the cat pounced from swing to porch and tried to follow. “Points for persistence, big guy, but, no.”

He shut the cat out. Shut Archie out. As he jogged up the stairs, he remembered the look on Bella’s face when he’d shut her out. He still couldn’t believe she’d suggested moving in.

“
But it’s a big house and it’s just you, right? I’m neat and quiet and I’m a great cook. It wouldn’t be for long
,” she’d barreled on.
“Just until I find a place I can afford on my own. I really think, for the reasons I explained before, that the sooner I move out, the better for my dad.”
She’d paused and smiled. “
So what do you think
?”

“
Not just no, but hell, no
.”

“
Why
?”

“
For one: People will talk
.”

“
You don’t seem the sort to care
.”

“
I’m referring to you, Bella. Your feelings. Your reputation
.”

“
My reputation is sound, thank you very much
.”

“
And I’m not willing to compromise it
.”

“
That’s very kind of you—an anomaly by the way, considering your tendency toward rudely blunt, but that aside—I’d be moving in officially as a boarder, not as a lover.”

“
Regardless, people will suspect
.”

Her lush mouth twisted into a wry grin. “
For a city boy, you’re sure old-fashioned
.”

“
Far from it, but you’re…
He’d started to say “special” and backpedaled
.
“
The town librarian. You may be broadminded, but what about the parents of the kids you interact with
?”

That had shut her up.

For two freaking seconds.

“
I’m going to withdraw my query
,” she’d said with narrowed eyes. “
Not because I’m worried about my reputation, but because I’m concerned about your level of discomfort
.” Peeling off the latex gloves, she’d abandoned her cataloguing project. “
I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow. In the evening. Like I mentioned before I’ve committed the day to friends and the Arts and Fiddler Festival. Will I see you there
?”