Out Bad (12 page)

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Authors: Janice M. Whiteaker

BOOK: Out Bad
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Twelve

The sun pounded down on Joe, baking into his skin, the bright
white of his long-sleeved cotton shirt doing nothing to reflect the rays. 
He didn't care.

He was riding.  The sky was clear.  And he'd spent
every night this week with a woman who surprised him in ways he never could
have imagined.

Heath turned into a roadside hole in the wall and Joe
followed, lining his bike beside his friend's.

"It's hotter than balls."  Heath pulled a
handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped at his forehead.  "And
I don't have any hair."

"Maybe that's your problem."  Joe pointed at
Heath's pale blonde high and tight fade.  "Nothing between you and
the sun."

Heath rubbed his head.  "Gabbi would shit if I
grew it out."

Joe walked toward the door, pulling it open for his much
fairer buddy to go in first.  "Imagine what you'd catch at
work."

Heath shook his head.  "I just have to figure out
how to tie this thing on."  He folded his navy blue paisley covered
would be do-rag and shoved it back in his pocket before sliding onto a seat at
the bar.

Joe held two fingers up at the guy behind the bar and sat
down.

"How's your week been?"  Heath twisted in his
seat stretching his back.

"What's wrong? 
Gettin
'
too old to ride?"

Heath groaned and shook his head.  "It's those
damn girls."  He puffed his chest, bringing his shoulder blades together,
his spine popping with every move.  "Do you know how long it's been
since I've had my wife to myself for an entire night?"

"You work nights."

"Not always.  That's not the point." 
Heath paused as their beers arrived and took a drink before continuing. 
"Years.  It has been years since I've been alone with my wife."

"Why don't you have Gwen keep them for a night?"

Heath turned to him.  "That's a brilliant
idea.  I bet she would love that."

Joe chuckled remembering the waxy bath crayons covering
Gwen's white soaking tub.  "Not if they clog her tub again."

"What?"

He froze, his full bottle of cold beer to his lips. 
Shit.

He took a drink as he tried to think of what to say. 
How to wipe away the information he'd accidentally spilled. 

"How would you know the girls clogged Gwen's
drain?"

Joe cleared his throat as he set his bottle back on the
scarred bar.  "She called me to come unclog it."

"Oh, God.  Please don't tell me that has some sort
of double meaning.  Gwen called you to unclog her drain." 
Heath's head was in his hands.  "Please tell me you were just there
professionally."

"I was a complete professional."  Joe took
another drink as the picture of Gwen's silky robe slipping off her shoulders
lingered in his mind.  It was true.  He'd been nothing but an
absolute gentleman.

Just like every night this week, with the exception of one
where she'd ended up propped on a counter, her strong legs wrapped tightly
around his waist.  But he'd been very careful to be on his best behavior
since then.  He'd even managed to sit very, very close to her on the couch
through a movie and keep his hands to himself.  It wasn't easy, but it was
better than sitting at home alone.

"What about since then?"  Heath was staring
at the side of his head.  Hard.

"Yup."

"Yup?  What the hell does that mean?" 
He pointed an accusatory finger at Joe.  "I told you to stay away
from her."

"You did."

"Gabbi's going to shit."  Heath took a few
gulps from his bottle.  "She's
gonna
kill
you."

"Why?  Gwen's a grown woman."

"You don't understand man."  Heath faced him,
leaning an elbow on the bar.  "Sisters, that's like a whole different
ball game."

"Was that supposed to be an explanation?" 

"Gwen's just been through a lot and I don't know that
she's ready for what you're ready for."

Joe faced the bar and took another drink.  Heath wasn't
telling him anything he hadn't already heard before.  Gwen's been through
a lot.  She's not ready.  She's not what you're looking for. 
Heath and Gabbi were like broken freaking records.

And he thought they were wrong.

Very wrong.

"I guess I'll find out."  He finished off his
beer and set it on the bar.

Heath shook his head.  "If you survive."

Joe laughed as he stood up and stepped around his
stool.  "I'm pretty sure I can handle this."

Heath followed him out of the bar.  "I said that
once too.  Now I sleep in a pile of little girls and their Barbie
minions."

Joe slapped Heath on the back as he slid his sunglasses back
in place against the brightness of the sun.  "You definitely need a
night out with your wife."

"Well I get one tomorrow.  Unfortunately, it's a
group of women she graduated with and us husbands are lucky enough to come
along for the ride."

"They tricked you into a giant double-date?" 
Joe climbed on his bike.

"The shit you do for women."  Heath started
his engine and waved Joe on.

Joe pulled out of the gravel lot and onto the road, taking
the lead.  A few minutes down the road, a cluster of motorcycles appeared
over a crest ahead of them.  As they came closer Joe held his hand to the
side in greeting.

As the men passed Joe caught a glimpse of a patch on one
rider's leather cut.  His eyes slid to the side, watching the bikes in his
mirror.  They slowed.

Each bike swung around, making a u-turn and fell in behind
them.

Joe held his speed and eased toward the center line forcing
Heath to move outside.  When he saw his friend's front tire in his
peripheral vision, he relaxed a little.  Heath pulled beside him and
nodded almost imperceptibly before easing back.

The sound of the bikes behind them roared as they gained
very quickly.  The road was clear and one by one, each bike flew past
them.  Joe kept his eyes fixed in front of him, but the sear of each man's
eyes burned into the side of his head as they passed.

When they were finally out of sight, Joe felt like he could
almost breathe again.  Almost.  He made the turn to head back. 
There was no way he could enjoy the rest of their ride and the best thing after
what just happened was to get off the road.

They pulled up in front of Heath and Gabbi's and cut their
engines.

"What do you think that was about?"  Heath
squinted at him in the late evening sun.

Joe glanced up at the house making sure the girls hadn't
heard them pull up.  "There's no telling."

Heath rubbed his chin, his fingers scratching over his
gingery five o'clock shadow.  "We need to find out if it was just
peacocking
or if there's something going on."

Joe nodded.  It could be nothing.  He could have
been wrong.  Not seen what he thought he saw. 

If not...

That would be bad.  Very, very bad.  For
him.  Maybe for the people around him.

He looked at Heath.  "Be careful."

Heath scoffed.  "I'm always careful." 
He sobered.  "You're the one who needs to be careful."  He
nodded to the house.  "You should stay here until I see what I can
find out."

Joe shook his head.  He wasn't the kind of man who hid
from his problems and he absolutely wasn't the kind of man who would do
something that could bring his problems into Heath's home.  It was bad
enough Heath had been seen riding with him.

"I'll be fine.  I'm sure it's nothing."

Heath nodded.  "Let's hope so."

****

 Joe tried to read Gwen’s expression in his peripheral
vision.  She sat in the passenger bucket seat of his work van, her purse
on her lap, gazing out the window. 

She'd worked late last night while he went riding with Heath
and she looked tired.

A ping came from her purse and she turned to look his
way.  “Would it be okay if I checked my e-mail?”

 “Sure.” 

He wondered just how attached she was to her job.  And
her house.  And her lifestyle. 

These past few years he’d worked hard to get where he was
today.  A home, a successful business, good friends.  All in the
hopes to find the woman he could finish building his life with.  Someone
he could take care of, provide for.  Prove he was nothing like the man who
lived in his past.

But if Gwen was that woman, he could offer nothing she
didn’t already provide for herself.  And then some.  Would she ever
consider the life he wanted or would she expect him to fit himself into her
world?  Could he fit into her world?

Probably not.  No matter what she thought of him,
people would always judge him and by default her.  He was used to people
making assumptions about him.  He’d made a career about proving them
wrong.  He might be used to the judgment of others, but Gwen was not.

Gwen blew out a long sigh.  He glanced her way. 
Her thumbs were darting across the screen of her phone.  “Everything
okay?”

“Obviously I need to delegate more.  If I can’t leave
the office at a reasonable time a few nights one week without the whole world
coming to an end, something is wrong.”  She dropped her hand holding the
phone to her lap as she let her head fall back to the headrest.  Closing
her eyes, she took a few deep breaths.  “It’s frustrating when you have to
hold someone’s hand and walk them through a job they’ve been doing for years.”

Interesting.  “Other than that, do you like your job?”

“I think so.”  She chewed her lip as she looked
thoughtfully out the window.  “Most of the issues I think I might have
created.  I might have a propensity to try to control everything.”

“You don’t say.”

She jerked her head to look at him, eyes wide.  He
tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t stop the laughter fighting to get
out.

“Don’t look so upset.  I’m pretty sure it’s
genetic.” 

The most beautiful laughter filled the van.  “No truer
words have ever been spoken.”

“All I’m going off is that hellion of a sister you have.”

Her mood suddenly shifted.  “I’m pretty sure most
people think I’m the hellion in the family.”

He reached across the van to rest his hand on her knee,
giving it a gentle squeeze.  “They would be wrong.”  He winked at
her. 

He’d known Gabbi now for a few years.  He hadn’t known
Gwen long, but he would bet money most people were wrong in their opinions of
her.  His best friend included. 

“What about you?  Do you enjoy what you do?” 

He almost didn’t hear her.  All his attention was
focused on the soft stroking of her finger tips across the hand he’d laid on
her knee.  She brushed across his knuckles, her eyes fixed on his
hand.  Over and over, she traced the physical scars of his past with her
gentle touch.

He cleared his throat.  “I do.” 

Hopefully he could make his work sound interesting enough
she would forget about the discovery.  It didn't matter that he never
started a fight.  Violence was violence and it wasn't anything he could or
would explain away if she asked.

“I was pretty limited when I came out of…”  He
struggled to say the word.  Even now, years later with all he had
achieved, the shame still gnawed at the corners of each day.

“Prison.”  Gwen said it easily, as if it was just
another stop in his life.  Too bad it wasn’t as easy for him.  Maybe
someday.

“Yes.”  He sighed.  “Prison.” 

Joe was forced to leave the word hanging in the air as he
tried to resume his train of thought.  Seconds ticked by as all he could
do was focus on the road in front of him as he worked his way through the angry
regret he thought he’d moved beyond.

He felt Gwen’s hand softly stroking up his arm.  He’d
forgotten his hand still rested on her leg.  “So you decided to start your
own business.”  Her soft voice pulled him from his dark thoughts about the
past.

“Yes.  I helped with my family's construction business
when I was a kid so I can do most things.  I never minded the plumbing
part, and I was the one who always ended up doing it so it's what I’m best
at.”  He left out that most people who need a plumber are usually more
worried about the sewage backing up in their basement than they are about
checking backgrounds.

Gwen nodded.  “It’s a good profession.  It’s
something most people wouldn’t tackle themselves and when you need a plumber,
you really need a plumber.”

“I get my fair share of distress calls.”  He smiled
remembering a certain woman who put in one of her own.  Maybe one day he’d
have the opportunity to take care of the problem she had the first time.

“You wouldn’t be laughing at my expense would you?” 
She pinched the inside of his arm.


Ow
!”  He yanked his hand off
her knee and rubbed the stinging spot with the back of his hand.  “Now I’m
glad I was.”

“That’ll teach you.”  She laughed a wicked little laugh
he hoped to hear more of as he snuck a peek at the tender skin she'd
assaulted. 

He’d never met a more complex woman than the one who chose
the passenger seat of his work van over the sleek high dollar sedan in her
garage. 

"Do you live close to Heath and Gabbi?"

He shook his head.  "No.  I don't really live
close to anyone."

 “Your house is in the country?”  Her voice gave
away nothing about her feelings on the prospect.

“Yeah.  You could say that.  I have a big
farmhouse I’m renovating.”

“Is there a barn?”  He thought he detected the tiniest
bit of wistfulness in her voice, but it could just be his own wishful thinking.

“There is.” 

He pulled the van into the driveway at Heath and
Gabbi’s.  A small part of him was sad he would have to share her attention
for the rest of the evening, but mostly he was looking forward to getting to
see her with the girls again.  Hopefully he would gain a little more
insight into how she felt about kids.  More than anything he wanted a
family.  If she didn’t want the same thing, he would have to move on, no
matter how difficult that would be.

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