Open Road (7 page)

Her body ached, a pleasant reminder of the night before. Flashes of last night's endless lovemaking released butterflies in her belly as she nuzzled against him. "You're still here," she murmured, stretching her stiff limbs. "You're never here when I wake up."

"You asked me to stay." His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. With his forefinger he traced the curve of her bottom lip and followed his feather-light touch with a tender kiss. "Ali," he whispered against her mouth.

"Alejandro," she whispered back, her eyes locking on his dark ones. 

"What am I going to do with you?" He was so quiet she almost didn't hear him. "I don't think I can leave you a second time."

She didn't take her eyes from his as she kissed his knuckles. "Then don't leave me," she murmured. "Stay here in Arroyo Flats. Let me make you happy."

"You'd be sacrificing too much to be with me. I wouldn't want you to regret that someday."

Tears welled in Ali's eyes but she said nothing, just cupped Alejandro's stubbled jaw and stroked his cheek with her thumb while he spoke.

"Ten years ago, I was just a kid with no money, no life for myself. I couldn't give you anything you deserve. A beautiful house. Safety. Financial security. Healthy, happy children. Work that you love." He sighed and nuzzled face. "I want you to have all those things, Ali, whether you're with me or not. And I'd rather lose you than have you realize someday that you're disappointed in the life you share with me."

"Shhh, my love, don't..." she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I could never--"

"You're wrong," he insisted. "You'll be disappointed if you settle for less than what you want." He kissed the tears from her eyes and the salt mingled between their lips when he covered her mouth with his own. "When you think about what you want most in life, what does that look like?"

Ali nestled against his solid chest. "I want the important things. I want to be happy, and I want to be with a man I love who loves me in return."

"Kids?" He nuzzled shyly into her neck.

She nodded. "And what about you? What do you see?"

"Kids, definitely," he began. "Lots of them. Boys and girls, all with dark hair and big, dark eyes. A beautiful, nurturing mother who never lets them feel unloved, not even for a second. A house, not huge, but big enough for all the children. It's a house full of love and joy. People visit and they leave smiling." He kissed her fingertips one by one. "I want you to be happy and loved, Ali. I don't know if I can give you more than that, but I want to try."

"I don't want you to go back to San Antonio," she whispered against his chest. "I wish you could stay right here with me."

"And what if I did stay?" His eyes were serious. "Do you know what that would mean for you? Could you give up the life you know to build a new one with me?"

"Yes." She nodded and ruffled her fingers through his chest hair. "I love you. And I know we can be happy together."

"Ali,
mija..."
He kissed her hair. "This is where we disagree. I know my life, and I don't think it's a life you want to be a part of."

"Try me," she dared. "Include me."

He shook his head. "No way."

"You don't even try!" she protested. "You think I'm judging you, but you're the one judging me. I don’t belong on a pedestal, Alejandro. I'm not scared of reality."

He sighed and pulled her close. "Maybe I do put you on a pedestal, but is that so wrong? I just want to keep you safe."

"The other guys have wives, girlfriends, kids. We've talked about this before. Why can't we just try?"

"I'm about to be President."

"Is that more dangerous?"

He chuckled. "It's pretty dangerous now, what we do. But yeah, I suppose it is. More dangerous for me, and more dangerous for you. And I'd go crazy if anything happened to you because of me."

"I'm perfectly safe," she whispered, running her hands down his chest.

"Until someday you're not." His eyes were serious even though he smiled gently at her. "And that's my worst fear."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Are you serious about my world?" Alejandro asked later that morning.

She nodded bravely. "Yes."

He grinned and kissed her. "Then get dressed. I've got a meeting, and I'm taking you with me."

They were on the bike and halfway to the clubhouse when Alejandro felt Ali's grip around his waist tighten to the point of discomfort. He tried to get her to loosen her clutch, but her fingers dug into his jacket and refused to budge. When he glanced down at her hands, he saw that her knuckles were white. He took the next left into a parking lot and stopped the bike.

Her eyes were huge when he pulled off her helmet. "Baby, what's going on?" he asked. She was physically distressed: shaking, breathing shallowly, pale, and cold to the touch. "Talk to me," he urged.

"The black car..." she whispered, "it's following me."

"What car? Why would it be following you?"

"I don't know! All I know is, this black car has been up and down my road a bunch of times in the past month. Once two guys got out of it and went onto my property. Luckily Mr. Miller came home. But now it's back."

"Ali, this is very important. What kind of black car is it?"

"It's a Camaro. Newer. Black with a design on the hood."

"What kind of design?"

"A lime-green devil."

Alejandro breathed. "That car's not following
you
, it's following
me
. Those are the Diablos Verdes, and they're trying to move in on Arroyo Flats. We've been pushing back, but..." He trailed off and turned back to her. "Wait a minute. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

She shrugged. "I didn't think it had anything to do with you or the club."

"But you were scared.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “You're still shaking. If you thought you were in some kind of danger, why didn't you say anything?"

"I just wanted them to go away, and I thought they had. After that day, I never saw the Camaro again. Not until today."

"Shit, Ali." He tried to hide his irritation, but he couldn't believe she'd kept that to herself. How could he be expected to keep her safe if she didn't keep him informed?

Her eyes were huge. "I really didn't think it had anything to do with you or the club," she repeated in a small voice. "Why do you think they were following me?"

He shook his head grimly. "I don't know. Maybe to find me. Maybe to deliver a message. Thank God they never got hold of you, Baby. You have no idea what kind of--" He broke off. His words were scaring her, and she was already terrified.

"Let's go to the clubhouse, okay? I want you to tell Pitbull and Popeye about this car."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"She's not here for the meeting, obviously," Alejandro said to the ten pairs of raised eyebrows that greeted him inside the clubhouse. "This is Ali...
My
Ali," he emphasized with a pointed look at Dobie, "And she's been followed for a couple weeks now by the Diablos."

The other guys exchanged glances.

"Well shit," mumbled Pitbull.

"The black Camaro has been driving by my ranch for weeks," she said. "I first saw it about three weeks ago. It drove up and down my road a few times, which is weird since I live on a dead-end road. Then I kept seeing it, always driving slowly past my driveway. The very last time I saw it before today there were two men in the car. They stopped at the edge of my property, then climbed the fence and went onto my land. I was just about to go ask them what they wanted when my neighbor came along and they took off."

"You were going to ask them what they wanted?" Alejandro asked in disbelief.

"They were on my property!" she flared. "I had my gun, don't worry."

The other looked slightly impressed. Alejandro was sure they hadn't pegged Ali for the pistol-packing type. "All right, Annie Oakley," he lectured. "Do not do that again. You pull a gun on guys like that you'll get yourself killed."

"I didn't know," Ali reminded him. "I thought they were just trespassers, not--" She stared at the men around her and fell silent.

"It's all right, Baby," he murmured. Eyebrows went up again all around the room at the endearment, and he ignored their curious stares as he kissed her. "You wait right here. We're going to be talking awhile. Watch TV, get comfortable. There's beer in the fridge if you want it."

Ali nodded shyly and the men filed into the back room. When they closed the door behind her and she was alone, the reality of what she was involved in hit her for the first time.
Is this what it's going to be like--constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that everyone I see is out to do me harm? All I've done is trade one work-obsessed man for another, only this work is dangerous.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to calm the jitters that had plagued her since she saw the black car.
What am I really involved in here?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ali had shocked her business partner when she'd told her about the $30,000 donation from Travis Lathrop, but Karen looked even more startled to hear the rumble of the bikes approaching the Cloverleaf site.

"Who are these guys?" she asked above the roar of the engines.

"They're our volunteers," Ali replied proudly. "They're good guys, and they've offered to help. Free labor, right?"

Karen laughed. "When you said 'volunteers' I was thinking, you know, maybe some Eagle Scouts. Where on earth did you get these fellas?" She gave them a thorough once-over: arms covered with tattoos, bodies clad in denim and leather. Luckily, it seemed more shock and curiosity than disapproval.

Ali shrugged. "One of them is an old high school friend of mine. He owes me." She cast a sideways glance at Alejandro.
Behave
, she'd warned him earlier that day.
We're not ready to be public with this, and Karen's pretty sharp.
As if she'd never said a word, he was devouring her with his eyes.
Damn him.

Karen raised her eyebrows at her and Ali blushed. "Don't ask," she begged.

“Alaine Owens, I think there's a story to be told here,” Karen smirked.

“Let’s just get these guys set up,” Ali replied. “I promise, if there was something to tell, you’d already known about it.”

***

It took the guys half the time Ali expected. They worked like dogs, taking no breaks and powering through it all in record time. She was amazed at how quickly they managed to turn the barren front grounds into an inviting space. Karen was delighted, and Ali was relieved that she didn't seem offended at Pitbull's shameless attempts to get her phone number. Not for the first time, she realized what a gem she had in Karen.

"Those guys were great, Ali," her partner mused later as they went over the schedule for opening week. "Bring them back any time."

"I don't know how much of them we'll be seeing in the future," Ali demurred. "It's kind of a one-shot deal."

Karen snorted. "You can call it anything you like, but I saw the way that Alejandro looked at you."

Ali blushed to her roots and tried to shrug it off. "He's an old flame. A very, very old flame."

"Does Bobby know about this old flame? In fact, where is Bobby today? I expected to see him here, using this as a publicity shot."

And there it was, the question of the day. "Um... he had something else more pressing," she lied.

Inside she panicked.
Just how much longer can I put people off about Bobby? How long should I keep on lying? And at what cost?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Olivia Hamilton was the first parent to withdraw her child from riding lessons at Ali’s ranch. She left a breezy voicemail for Ali just twenty minutes before Callie's lesson saying they couldn't make it. When Ali called back the next day to reschedule, Olivia told her that Callie was "taking a break."

Ali was stunned. She'd been working with Callie for two years, and Olivia was an old school friend. It was abrupt, Olivia agreed, but they had other things going on. A few activities just had to take a back seat for a while. "We'll be in touch," she said, rushing Ali off the phone.

While Ali was disappointed at both the loss of a student and the loss of the income, she still didn't think anything was amiss until Sarah Foreaker pulled Gillie out of lessons without any warning the following week, making some feeble excuse about extra dance classes. And the next day, her favorite and longest-standing student, Perrie, called to say she couldn't come to class anymore.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she probed. In six years of instruction, Perrie hadn't missed a single lesson. Ali had even begun preparing the young girl for barrel-racing competition.

"Um," the young girl sniffled, her voice thick with emotion, "I can't take lessons from you anymore, Miss Ali. My mom says--" Perrie covered the phone and she could hear her arguing with her mother. "Something's... um... come up in my schedule and I c-c-can't--" There was some scuffling and then Ali heard Perrie's mother, as clear as day, telling her to hang up.