Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (11 page)

Charlotte waved at him, and walked to stand between him and the other truck. “Andy, I wasn’t sure if you were serious,” she said quietly.

“Can you ride with me?” he asked. “Is it safe for the baby?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s okay. Let me tell my cousin what I’m doing. What time should she pick me up?”

He looked at her. “I can take you home, beautiful.” He smiled widely. “I’d like to.”

Her eyes cut down to the ground and then back up, her hair swinging into her face. “Okay.”

Turning, she addressed the blond
e in the truck. “Lissa, this is Andy.” She took a deep breath, looking down. “I’m going out to dinner with him.” Her shoulders drew in on themselves like she was readying for an attack, and almost immediately, it came.

“What? Are you crazy, Charlotte? You can’t go out like that. You know how people will talk. I know you know better.” The blonde was hanging halfway out the window of the truck, yelling at her.

Andy got off the bike and went to stand behind Charlotte. “I’m a very safe driver, Lissa. I’m also a nice guy.” He smiled at her. “I promise.” Putting his hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, he turned her and said, “But, I don’t want to cause problems you don’t need. You can say no to dinner, beautiful.”

She shook her head, whispering, “I’d like to go. I want to.”

“Well then, let’s go.” He looped an arm around her waist, turning her towards the bike. Waving at Lissa, he shouted a goodbye over his shoulder, hearing her sputter in surprise. Pulling a helmet from his bag, he handed it to Charlotte and waited for her to put it on, glancing over to see Lissa staring at them.

“Okay, how do you think will be the easiest way to mount the bike, beautiful? I can pick you up and put you on it, or you can stand on the pegs and swing a leg over the back. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, and I’m kinda clueless here about,” he gestured to her belly, “all of that.”

Grinning, she gestured towards her belly with her hands. “I confess, it’s the first time for me, too.” He laughed at her joke and raised both eyebrows at her.

“I was riding horses up until a couple weeks ago, so I can stand on the peg and swing over, if you can hold the bike nice and steady,” she offered. He straddled the bike, leaning down and flipping the pegs into position. Holding out his hand, he smiled when she put hers trustingly into his to step up onto the peg.

He heard the truck drive away, and was glad that Lissa had finally given up her hateful staring. Charlotte settled into place behind him, her round belly pressed against his back. She laughed. “I can’t put my arms around your waist very well,” she told him, and placed her hands on his shoulders instead.

He leaned his head back, turning to see her face; she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail before putting on the helmet. For the first time, her features were clearly visible, no more hiding behind a screen of dark hair, and he could see that she
was
pretty, “Alrighty, which way, beautiful?”

“Turn right onto the highway out of the lot, then right at the courthouse square. Straight through two stop signs. It’s bumpy and downhill, so be aware. We’ll turn left at the stop sign by the feed store, and you’ll see the place on the left.” She took in a breath and he thought she would continue, but she sat back a little.

“Okay, right, right, bumpy, left—got it, but if I mess up, tap the shoulder that’s the right direction, okay?” He saw her nod.

Starting the bike, he glanced back at her face again, pleased to see a wide smile. He grinned, guessing she must have missed riding. Pulling out of the gas station carefully, he softly throttled up through a couple of gears,
and then held steady to the courthouse square. He was ready for her to lean the wrong way, but was surprised when he nearly went out of position because she leaned
into
the turn instead. “Whoa,” he called back, “sorry about that.” She nodded and rubbed his shoulders lightly with her thumbs, her fingertips softly touching his collarbones.

She leaned up close, repeating her instructions from before, “Straight through two stop signs, but don’t roll them; the cop shop is down that street.” She pointed to the right. Andy caught his breath as she pressed up against him, saying, “Then go left at the third stop.” Sitting back, she put her hands lightly on his shoulders again.

Goddammit,
he’d gotten hard from her belly and breasts pressing tight against his back. Thank God her arms weren’t around his waist, or she’d feel more than she’d counted on. Rolling slowly down the hill—she was right; it was full of potholes—he got to the last stop sign. Looking to the left, he saw the restaurant like she’d said, and the highway just beyond.

He had an idea, and turning his head to catch her eyes, offered, “Want to go up the highway for a couple miles? I
won’t go too far or too fast, but you seem to like riding…” he trailed off as she nodded furiously. “Alrighty, then off we go. Hold on, beautiful.”

Stopping before he pulled onto the main road, he asked, “North or south, right or left?”

Her hand went to her waist, and she pulled a quarter out of her pocket. “Okay, heads we go left, tails we go right,” she said as she flipped the coin and caught it deftly, calling out, “Heads.” He grinned at her quirky navigation, waited for her to slip the coin back into her pocket, and then pulled out to the left headed north.

They rolled northward on the highway for nearly thirty minutes. Every time he glanced back, she still had that big, shit-eating grin on her face. When he figured it was time to turn around, he pulled into an empty parking lot, slowing to a stop. He felt her hands tense on his shoulders, and when he looked back, the grin was gone and she was looking down. “Ready for food, Charlotte?” he called back, watching her nod.

Riding back towards town, he caught glimpses of that gorgeous grin occasionally. Most often though, he saw her eyes were closed, chin lifted into the wind with a soft, contented smile as if she wanted to keep this as a memory to save for later. If her cousin was any indication, her pregnancy and this baby were not celebrated, and that had to be tough. She didn’t look older than eighteen, and disapproval could be harsh to deal with at any age.

He pulled into a parking space at the restaurant, and carefully handed her off the bike. She waited and seemed puzzled when he killed the engine. “Aren’t you going to back it in?” she asked. He’d been around a lot of bikers and had noticed that some of them backed into a parking space, but a lot of them did not. It always seemed like too much trouble to him, so he usually just pulled in.

“Nah, I’ll back it out when we’re ready to go.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Clearly missing something, he asked, “You think I should I back it in, beautiful?”

She cut her eyes up at him, saying softly, “Here, it doesn’t matter, because they aren’t busy, but it makes it easier for a passenger to get on the bike out of traffic.”

He nodded. It made perfect sense; you didn’t back the bike up with someone riding pillion, so he started the bike again, maneuvering to back it into the space. “Thanks, I learn something new every day.”

She put the helmet into the bag without being asked, and then stepped back to let him precede her. He looked at her baffled, then reached out and gripped her shoulder. Turning her, he moved her in front of him, placing his hand on her lower back. Moving them towards the building, he reached out and opened the door, holding it so she could enter first.

The hostess smiled at her with genuine pleasure. “Hey, Lottie, good to see you. Two for dinner?”

She nodded and smiled. “Hi, Erica, yeah, two.”
Taking the ponytail tie out of her hair, she used her fingers to comb and smooth her rucked-up curls.

They followed Erica to a booth, and he waited for Charlotte to sit down before sliding in beside her on the bench. She looked startled and shifted over quickly, putting distance between their legs on the seat. He lounged back, stretching his legs out across the space between the benches.

He started tapping on the table and she threw him a quizzical look. He pointed up at the speakers, saying, “Maroon 5…
Harder to Breathe
, I love this song!” She laughed at him, playing along by bobbing her head. “So, what’s good here?” he asked, looking down at one of the menus the hostess had left on the table. Their waitress approached before she could answer, bringing glasses of water and bowls of tortilla chips and red salsa.

“Hey, Barbara, can I get some verde sauce?” Charlotte asked.

“Lottie!” the waitress exclaimed, leaning across Andy to hug her. “I’ll be right back with that green sauce, girl. What about drinks?”

He indicated the water. “This is fine for me,” and turning to Charlotte asked, “Beautiful?”

“Water is fine,” she replied and her eyes dropped. “Everything,” she said quietly once the waitress had left. He looked at her, confused. “You asked what was good. Everything here is good. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’ve never had anything here that I didn’t like.” She grinned. “I say that, but I’m a creature of habit, so I always have the beef burrito, so maybe it’s best?”

God
, her grin was adorable, and he smiled back at her. “Burritos all around, then?” he asked, and she nodded.

He gave their order to the waitress when she returned with a full bowl of a nearly neon green sauce. It seriously looked like pea soup mixed with crayons, and was of a particularly thick, dense consistency. He looked dubiously at it, picking up a chip and gingerly poking at it with one corner.

Charlotte laughed out loud at him, reaching into the basket for a chip of her own, breaking it in half and dipping one end into the sauce. Putting the coated chip in her mouth, she closed her eyes and moaned. She fucking
moaned
at the taste of the food, and he was hard again. Grinning, he watched her open her eyes and blush when he asked, “Is it that good, beautiful?”

She nodded. “Their green sauce is made fresh each day. They use it mostly for cooking, but it’s made from peppers, spices, and avocado, with onions cooked in. It’s so good.” She looked down. “I don’t like the red sauce as much, because there’s usually too much cilantro, and that can make it taste kinda bitter.” She glanced at him, took the other half of her chip, and dipped it in, putting the smeared chip into her mouth. “But, green sauce, oh my...this is just goodness,” she whispered around the food in her mouth, putting her hand in front of her lips with her eyes smiling.

He picked up another chip. “Why do you break your chips in half?” he asked.

“So I won’t double-dip, because—trust me—you’ll want to,” she answered with enthusiasm, still from behind her hand.

He hadn’t even considered there was etiquette like that for chips and dip. Dipping his chip into the green sauce, he brought it to his mouth, surprised by the spice and fire; then his taste buds pulled individual flavors out of the mix, and he deliberately moaned loudly. “That
is
goodness,” he agreed, and she laughed at him.

The meal continued that way, with Andy teasing conversation out of Charlotte. He would talk until he found a topic she was passionate about, and then she would take off. That was only until she
realized
she was talking, then she’d drop her eyes and get quiet again, and he’d have to look for another subject to draw her out.

She laughed at him when he didn’t recognize the country songs that played over the speakers, pointing out that not knowing Toby Keith was virtually un-American, especially if you didn’t recognize his
Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue
, which she called an ‘anthem’.

He found out the father of her baby was not involved. They’d broken up, and he’d moved four states away right before they found out she was expecting. She lived with her parents to save money, but planned
to move out on her own soon after the baby was born.

She hadn’t told the bikers in Longview about her pregnancy. It sounded like she was afraid they would be disappointed in her, so she dropped out of their lives several months ago. He sensed there was something else working there, but couldn’t put his finger on it.

Her eyes were the greenest-green he’d ever seen, but she thought they were common and plain. She was divorced, but that predated her pregnancy by a couple of years; he was not in the picture either. She seemed oddly reticent about her ex, but Andy supposed most folks were.

She was nearly twenty-two, so a little older than he had originally guessed. She was working two part-time jobs, getting in about fifty hours a week between them. That was only when she could get her schedules to line up, which seemed a struggle. She was funny, smart, and beautiful. She was also very pregnant, and virtually alone.

They sat there for nearly three hours, until the hostess came by and told them the restaurant would be closing in about thirty minutes, which they took as their cue to leave. Charlotte argued about the bill, and insisted on leaving the tip when he wouldn’t let her pay for her meal. He liked that she was independent and wanted to carry her own weight, but he hated that she seemed to be waiting for a punishing response all the time. He wanted to find whoever had made her feel that way and deal with them.

Strolling out towards the bike, she shivered in the cooler night air. He frowned; her shirt had been fine during the day, but it left her arms bare, and she would be frozen by the time he got her home. He walked to the bike and grabbed his backpack, digging into it until he found a clean, long-sleeved thermal shirt.