Sunrise Fires (11 page)

“Mmm’kay.” Chris wandered off toward the hunting knives as I turned back to Bill.

“Okay, Bill. Your store is really functional, so no surprise that you are maintaining the quarterly sales quota, but…”

“There is a problem?”

“Some of your displays need work. I think if you fix them, you can increase your revenue.” We walked through the store, and I explained to Bill what I had instructed his staff to do and why.

“Thank you. Thank you very much, Ms Simmons. We miss you as regional. We do. All the store managers, we are talking about this.”

It felt good to hear, though it was bittersweet as I was down to the last few days before my departure. “You’re in good hands, Bill. James will do fine as regional. Just give him time.”

“Perhaps…” Bill shrugged.

And with that Chris and I headed out to lunch to celebrate and talk about his new beginning.

By the time I dropped Chris off at his parents’ home, he was overflowing with appreciation and excitement. “I start next week! I can’t believe it. He didn’t even care that I can’t walk right. He hired me right there on the spot.”

“I knew you’d fit in.” I beamed like a proud mother. “It’ll be good for the store and good for you.”

“Thanks, Jen. Thanks so much.”

“Make me proud, Chris. I know you will.”

*   *   *

I called Dullberth before dinner and told him I brought a talented new kid through the flagship.

“It’s not a tourist stop, Ms. Simmons.”

“Nope. I know that.”

“So what’s your angle? You’re no longer regional manager.”

“I know that, too. But this kid knows a lot about the outdoors. He can be a really good asset to the store.”

“So then, you’re calling for a favor?”

“No. I’m calling to inform you that you’ll be hearing from Rasmussen. And that this kid will likely be a fast burner.”

“And if I say no?”

“Rasmussen hired him already. I was just giving you a heads up. This kid has real potential. You may find he’ll be fit for upper management faster than I was.”

“A bit optimistic, considering your record.”

“Clear a career path for this kid, Mr. Dullberth. His name’s Chris. Chris Jacobs.”

As I hung up, it felt good to know that it was likely the last conversation Dullberth and I would ever have. I still resented the way he arm-twisted me into going to Germany.

Chapter Ten

O
n the day before I left, I expected a quiet night alone with Ryan. I brought home some wine and began to make chicken Marsala while he was off riding with the guys. As I was cutting the mushrooms, the phone rang. It was Ryan.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“I need you to come to the track.”

“The dirt bike track?”

He snorted. “Ummm, is there any other?”

“But, I’m making dinner.”

“Put it away in the fridge and get over here, babe.”

“Shees, what’s the rush?”

“I forgot my effing helmet, and the sunlight’s disappearing. I need you to bring it and quickly.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m on my way.” I hurriedly wrapped everything and put it in the fridge before rushing out the door with Ryan’s helmet.

It’ll be nice to see the guys one last time before I go,
I thought as I started the car.

On the twenty-minute ride over, I thought about how I’d met Ryan for the first time three years ago. It had been two years in the making. We’d met online and had chatted, texted, and called each other sporadically over that time. It was funny to think how close Fontana was and yet how impossible our schedules had made it for us to meet that first time. I secretly had feared that he wasn’t that interested in meeting me, so he made excuses. Finally, I made that first nervous trip to California to meet him. Today, it seemed impossible to believe that we had come from such a place. We were a flurry of dates and activities initially. And after only two weeks, we spent a weekend ‘away’ at a hotel on the strip.

And that was the first time he’d gotten me onto his bike. I was petrified! It was barely dawn, and we were headed up to Mount Charleston for the day. Neon casino lights highlighted the Vegas skyline as he weaved through traffic. My heart was pounding against my rib cage in sheer terror! I remember wondering how I had ever let this man convince me that this would be okay and why he was being such a daredevil. He leaned the bike to the left and right as necessary, gliding effortlessly through traffic. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and gripped his waist, burying my head in his back, and breathing in the smell of the helmet he’d lent me, wishing his cologne was a tiny bit stronger. I loved the way he smelled and his reassuring demeanor. Even that early on in the relationship, he’d put me at ease. I had tried to relax, letting go of his waist and allowing my hands to fall loosely into his lap and the bulge I had enjoyed just hours before. Driving in the car now, three years later, my belly dropped, remembering how he had learned me so easily, romancing me, pleasing me. I fell for him fast and hard. Even at two weeks, I knew I was falling. Back then, I had tried to rationalize that it had been two years of courtship, so falling for him so quickly was only natural. But even now that seemed silly, since I’d never laid eyes on him.

The more we rode that day, the more self-assured I became. The more I trusted him, the more we moved together and as one with the bike. By the time the city faded into the distance, I was smiling at the sensations the experience was bringing. The motorcycle vibrating between my legs created a hum that made my crotch quiver. The wind buffeted my body with a rhythmic calming beat that felt like the reverse of singing into a fan. And Ryan was solidly in front of me, warming me from the apex of my legs to the crest of my collarbone, blocking me from the worst of the wind, controlling the bike and our destination, guiding our movements without saying a word. 

When he finally pulled off the highway and turned toward the mountains, I was comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. I had rested comfortably against his back and was able to focus on the amazing way my body felt. My hands were comfortably resting on his jeans. I could feel his warmth through the denim material, and I wanted him again right then. He had interrupted my thoughts by turning off onto a gravel road which exaggerated the bike’s natural vibrations. I reflexively tightened my grip on him, squeezing my thighs together and holding onto his jeans at the inseams. I had felt so comfortable with Ryan, so at ease, and so turned on. That was a constant from the start—sexual energy surging us through the day.

As he had finally stopped the bike, I stayed put, straightening my legs into a long stretch and gripping his jeans a little more tightly. I leaned forward as I put my feet down and slid my hands down his thighs and then back up to his zipper, slowly sliding over the growing bulge in his pants and continuing on to his hips and up his back. I wanted him to know that this was torture for me, and that I was prepared to share it with him.

We flirted and hiked for most of the morning, eventually finding a secluded area with a floor of leaves and grasses. We had originally sat down to ‘take a break,’ but as has now become the norm, we ended up making love right there. Even as I drove to the track today, I could still smell the leaves around us and see the way he looked at me, hungry and tender all at once. It was a look I’d never seen on anyone else, and it always melted me. Ryan could still have me whenever he wanted, wherever. My stomach clenched at the thought of how soon that possibility would be gone.

*   *   *

I was crying and breathing heavily as I pulled into the parking lot at the track. I didn’t know whether I wanted to make love to him or cry all over him, but I definitely wasn’t thinking about this helmet or the guys. I grudgingly lugged the helmet out toward the track. It was nice to approach slowly and look at Ryan standing there at the fence line with Chris, his bike leaning against the fence not too far down. He had taken my spot for the night, talking to Chris and keeping him company while the others rode. Maybe it was better that he forgot his helmet. The riders zoomed past, some jumping as they got in front of ‘show center,’ while others just flipped their middle finger. I sniffed up the last of my tears, wiped under my eyes, hoping to erase any signs of the raccoon that crying might have brought, and straightened my hair as I got closer to the men.

“Hey, you two. What’s up?” Both heads spun around on swivels.

“Hey, babe.” Ryan stepped to me, sweeping me up in one arm and kissing me.

“Hi, love. I got a little something special for ya.” I waved his helmet around. “And hey to you, too, Chris.” Chris waved meekly.

“Yeah,” Ryan toed the ground, “about that….”

“Mmm…what’s up?” I dragged the words out in suspicion.

“I kinda have my old one here. You brought that one for you.”

“Oh, Lord, what’s going on?” Just then the bikes came into view from around the track, and instead of continuing around, they stopped one by one near the fence line. They were all here, even Pat, whose wife wasn’t always game for him coming out to ride with the guys. “Hey guys! How’s it going?” There was a jumble of ‘heys’ and ‘how ya doings’ and ‘what’s ups’ from the crowd. I laughed. “Right back at ya.”

“You guys ready?” Nods came back in reply as Chris breached the fence and headed onto the track. He handed his crutches to Mark and got onto Johnnie’s bike.

I looked at Ryan. “We’ll meet you guys there,” he said, and the guys headed off, with Johnnie driving much more slowly than the others.

“What’s going on, hun?” I tried to feign irritation, but I was excited to see what Ryan had planned.

“Come one, babe.” He took my hand and led me to his bike. Kissing me quickly, he said, “Oops, I almost forgot.” And he scurried back to a rock near where he’d been standing and grabbed his old helmet. I stood there, tapping my foot on the ground. “Oh, knock it off. You’re the worst actress I know. Get that helmet on and let’s get moving.”

This bike wasn’t near the comfortable ride that his old street bike had been, but considering where my thoughts had just taken me, this ride was poignant and bittersweet in its own way. The hum of the motor between my legs, Ryan warm and self-assured sitting in front of me, and me leaning into his back, I almost felt like I was back on the road to Mount Charleston. I gripped the inside of his thighs and acted scared like I had on the very first day. And when his leg muscles tightened and he turned his head, I rubbed his chest to reassure him that I was fine. He drove slowly over the dirt ridges and hills. This wasn’t my first time on the track, but it was a rare occasion. I don’t think I had been out here in over a year. He throttled heavily to get up a hill, and I grabbed his chest, smiling. I loved the excuse to hold him.

As we reached the top of the third or fourth hill, the guys came into view, standing around a blanket laid out on the crest of a ridge. I laid my head on Ryan’s back and held him close. I wanted to thank him for whatever was about to happen. I knew he had put a lot of effort into planning something for me, and I was thrilled. As we rolled to a stop, I instinctively put my feet down and let my weight rest on the left leg as Ryan leaned the bike in that direction. I took a deep breath and took off my helmet.

Not only were the guys all there, but they had brought Jackie along and Talia as well. I burst into smiles and tears, and hugs. As I made my way to each person to thank them, I felt more joy than I thought possible. I got back to Ryan and was crying my eyes out while my cheeks burned from smiling so much.

“I love you, Ryan Riverton.” He smiled and held me until my tears subsided.

“How about we eat?” The guys had a cooler of hot dogs, burgers, and condiments, as well as some beer and soda.

“And chips with bean dip as a side dish,” Chris commented. “They were my idea.”

“Oh, were they now?” I smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

As I ate my char-burned burger, sloppy with ketchup and relish, I couldn’t help but chuckle. My belly was so full of joy-butterflies that it was quivering, making the inappropriate chuckles come.

“What’s so funny, babe?”

“Love. Love is funny.” I turned to face him. “I’m so in love with you and with this moment. I was home, making chicken Marsala for us, and y’know what? This burger tastes better than any Marsala I’ve ever made.”

“Hey, hey, hey, now. Don’t eat too much. We can save room for that Marsala. I won’t be getting it again for quite some time, and I’d definitely like one last taste.”

I leaned in closer to him and whispered directly into his ear, “Why do your words always bring me back to the vision of you making love to me?”

He brought a hand up between us, holding my head with his fingers, his thumb just in front of my left ear as he whispered into my right, “Because that’s where I picture myself when I say these things. I want to taste you. That Marsala, too. But for sure, you.” My inner thighs reflexively squeezed together, trying to contain the juices flowing into my panties. I gulped and bit his neck, sucking on the tendon that leads straight to his cock. He moaned softly and then pulled away. “Hahaha…” He waved a finger at me, smiling. “Shame on you.” I looked down at his jeans, but he was faster, already trying to adjust with the heel of his hand. He shook his head and threw me a sideways glance before heading off to talk to Johnnie.

Mark was nearby so I stepped over. “This is amazing. Thanks so much for helping Ryan put this together.”

He kept chewing his burger. Finally, he said, “I didn’t really. Just showed up today with a six pack.”

“Well, then, thanks for coming, especially without a date,” I surveyed the crowd, “that’s a surprise.”

“I don’t bring girls to the track.”

I nodded, trying to buy time to think of a new conversation thread to grab. The awkwardness that hung in the air reminded me of a much earlier time in our relationship. I thought we’d long since gotten past these moments. “I leave tomorrow.”

“So I heard. Germany, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Ryan? Kinda thought you guys were wedding bound.”