“Rachel is putting her own reputation on the line for you, Ryker. You mess her up, and you’ll really feel my wrath.”

  She hung up then, while he stared at the phone.

  Crap. He hadn’t asked Rachel to do that.

  He needed to tell Benny he was leaving, but Benny was staring at his cell phone with a glare that wanted to burn holes through it.

  “You okay?”

  “Define okay,” Benny countered.

  “Safe to be left alone. Do you need help? And if so, is it something I can do?”

  Benny looked at him, and then back at the phone. “Maybe you can.”

  “Why do I feel that I’m going to regret offering?”

  Benny managed a smile. “My dad wants me to talk to the high school. They’re doing an assembly and want me to talk about being a cripple. Sorry, physically challenged.”

  Ryker would rather ride through town on his bike naked.

  “Sorry, Ben. Can’t do that for you.”

  Benny got a glint in his eye.

  “But you could talk about being in the air force. That’s gotta be more interesting than talking about a wheelchair.”

  Ryker shook his head.

  “I signed up so that I didn’t go to prison for drunk driving and grand theft auto. That’s not the story they want those kids to hear. You’re on your own for that one.”

  Benny grimaced. “I can’t do it. Not the way they want.”

  Ryker heard a dark tone in Benny’s voice, one Benny normally didn’t indulge. He cocked his head.

  “What’s the way they want?”

  “They want the Benny who doesn’t whine. The one who doesn’t make them feel bad about being disabled. I can do that here, and I can be happy with the life I have. Really. But to go back, to that time when I first figured out I was spending the rest of my life in a chair? That’s not a pretty story.”

  “Your call, Ben. But that’s the story I’d like to hear.”

  Benny shot him a look.

  Ryker shrugged. “I’m in AA, man. Those are my kind of stories.”

  * * *

  RYKER PUSHED HIMSELF away from the desk in the back office of Moonstone’s. Jaycee was hovering over his shoulder, but to be fair, her anxiety appeared focused on the computer and not on him.

  “Try that.”

  He stood up, and Jaycee dropped into the chair, fingers moving on the keyboard. The tension lifted from her shoulders in a rush, leaving her relaxed against the back of the chair.

  “That’s wonderful, Ryker. Thank you so much.”

  He had his phone out. “Check to see if my reservation showed up. I placed one from the phone app.”

  Jaycee hit some keys, and they both saw his name show up on the screen.

  “Ryker, I could kiss you right now, but Dave would be a little upset with me.”

  Ryker held back a grin.

  “Dave used to play hockey, as I recall. Probably better not to make him mad.”

  Jaycee turned and raised her eyebrows. “You were in the air force, Ryker. I doubt you have to worry about my Dave. They probably taught you about a million ways to hurt people.”

  Ryker no longer felt like grinning. She was right. He’d learned a lot about hurting people, and he didn’t want to be like that anymore.

  Jaycee sat back, eyes wide. “Oh, sorry. That was a rotten thing to say. Um, can we just go back to you being wonderful again?”

  Ryker nodded, then shrugged into his jacket.

  “I’m sorry, Ryker. Really. I have foot-in-mouth disease, and I’ve not found a treatment yet.”

  “It’s okay, Jaycee. I need to get back now.”

  “Right. Of course. You know, if you want to keep that reservation...”

  “I appreciate the offer, but no. Let me know if that problem pops up again.”

  It was a nice offer. But he didn’t need to come and eat here alone. It would only emphasize the other problem he’d experienced.

  My Dave. Twice Ryker had been my Ryker, but it hadn’t lasted. This was the kind of nice thing he didn’t have, because he couldn’t care for it.

  It would be nice to have someone to dine out with. But romance didn’t take with Ryker.

  Ironic, when he was working on a website for a town named Cupid’s Crossing. But to work on the website, all he had to do was have some skills with software. Romantic connections were not required, fortunately. As Diane and Erica could attest. Because he had two divorce decrees to show that Cupid didn’t work with him.

  * * *

  RACHEL FROWNED AT her uncle.

  “The Exeters want that divorce settlement soon.”

  Her uncle waved away her concerns. “I’ll get to it. Just want to take the afternoon off.”

  She knew what that meant. A liquid lunch. She took a long breath.

  Her uncle was the reason she wanted to sit in on those Al-Anon meetings. His drinking was getting out of hand. No, his drinking already was out of hand.

  She’d talked to her father, but he thought she was overreacting. In theory, her dad knew drunks could be high functioning, but he couldn’t see it in his brother.

  If Rachel went to one of those meetings, too many people would suspect her father of being the alcoholic she was concerned about. Because anonymous didn’t work in a town this small when everyone knew her. She didn’t want to just attend; she wanted to ask questions.

  She didn’t want to enable her uncle because he needed to hit rock bottom. That was what her research said. But if she didn’t cover up for her uncle, if she didn’t make sure the essentials of this office kept going, a lot of people would be hurt.

  People like the Exeters, who needed the divorce filed and the chance to get on with their lives. They had kids who were suffering through the divorce, and moving out of limbo would help them. If Rachel didn’t do most of the paperwork and push her uncle, who knew when it would finally be completed?

  And the Romeros, who were buying their first house. The Olsens, who wanted their will finished before they left on a world cruise.

  She knew these people and cared about them. If she let her uncle’s business fall apart, they’d all be hurt.

  What about when you leave? The voice in her head. The voice that said yes to all the things people asked her to do. The voice that was so nice.

  The voice that was going to lead her to become the town’s cat lady.

  She’d listened to that voice for years. But there was a second voice, now getting louder.

  She wasn’t the town lawyer. She didn’t get paid the money her uncle did. Why did she have to do most of his work?

  The Romeros wanted a house for their growing family. When did she get to find a partner and start her own family?

  Why didn’t other people worry about things like the church bazaar and setting up for AA meetings and all those other things she did? If they were so important, why didn’t other people step up?

  But what if no one does step up?

  While she’d been listening to the dueling voices in her head, her uncle had slipped away. Rachel sighed.

  Tough love wasn’t happening today. But she looked through her to-do list, and decided she wasn’t going to work on the business license requests that came in. She was going to wait for her uncle to take care of those.

  Those people would pressure him and hopefully make him take fewer afternoons off. On his own, he left the personal legal matters to fall by the wayside. Rachel was the one who kept those from getting delayed indefinitely.

  She shook her head. She’d made her decision. She was leaving. She’d have to find someone to take her place, someone able to handle this.

  She’d do her best to get everything under control before she left. She’d talk to her dad, again, so that he’d be prepared when her uncle came apart.

  People were going to have to figure out how to manage without Rachel taking care of them.

  After all, she could be hit by a bus any day. Or fall and break most of her limbs. She couldn’t take care of everyone and everything all the time.

  It was time she took care of Rachel.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RYKER STOPPED THE bike just off the highway on the driveway that led to his house. His former home.

  The bike was balanced between his thighs, his feet keeping it upright. His hands were still on the handlebars, the engine thrumming.

  He was ready to escape.

  He sighed and stretched his neck. It was ridiculous. He didn’t need to escape this place; he already had, fourteen years ago.

  There was nothing, nothing physical to fear here. His father was in a home, lost mentally in places no one could follow. Not that Ryker had tried. He hadn’t been to see his father. Hadn’t seen the man in fourteen years. When he’d left, he’d never intended to return.

  He drew in a long breath. Someone had to deal with this place, and Gabe and Rafe couldn’t. Ethan wouldn’t. Some sense of responsibility had made him agree, instead of leaving it to Ana or Kate. Or Jess, if they’d been able to find her.

  He’d left them fourteen years ago. He expected they were angry about that. He would be if the case was reversed. He needed to be the one to step up now.

  The things that remained here, the things that made him want to flee, were all memories. Hauntings from the past. The kind of stuff you couldn’t hurt with your fists or escape on a fast motorcycle.

  The things he’d always escaped with alcohol.

  He heard a car slowing down on the highway. A quick glance showed him Rachel’s car, and with relief, he kicked the bike in gear and drove up to the house.

  He wouldn’t give in in front of Rachel.

  Rachel pulled off to the side of the house, where cars in the past had created a parking strip not far from the porch. Her door swung open, and he saw she was wearing the jacket. She had the helmet in her hand, and jeans, boots and gloves on. Everything he’d told her to wear. Not as sweet as she usually looked, but appealing all the same.

  There was a sparkle in her gaze, and he knew she was excited about this. But her forehead was creased, and her voice concerned as she asked how he was.

  He shrugged and dismounted, kicking the bike onto its stand.

  “We don’t have to do this here.”

  Part of him wanted to snarl at the niceness, the consideration in her voice. She knew, no, she guessed, how difficult this was. He wasn’t used to kindness and consideration, and it corroded his defenses, the behaviors that kept him strong.

  Another part of him wanted to soften, to let someone else in. Someone to feel his pain, comfort him, numb the edges the way alcohol had. He knew Rachel would do it. Those kind eyes, the soft voice—she’d take anything he wanted to share with her and try to make it better.

  He straightened. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her niceness, not like everyone else in this town did. She was helping him already, and he wasn’t going to abuse her generosity.

  If he softened, he wasn’t sure what would happen. He hadn’t been able to be soft for a long time.

  He shook his head.

  “Let’s make some better memories here.” He paused, suddenly aware of how much of a come-on that could sound like.

  But not to Rachel. Rachel, who had an innocence to her, one he didn’t plan to mar.

  She laughed. “Will memories of me falling down make it better?”

  “You’re not going to fall down.” He smiled, still, at the image of her wobbling down the driveway like a five-year-old making a first attempt without training wheels.

  A fall with his bike would be more serious, but there was no reason she should fall. They’d be going slow. She could balance a bicycle, so she could do this. And he’d stay close. Not only to protect his bike.

  “Can you promise that?” She sparkled, happy to be doing something she wanted. She’d accepted his refusal to revisit the past and had focused on her lesson.

  He appreciated that she was giving him space.

  “I’m not letting my bike get damaged.”

  Her eyes shot open. “Oh no. I don’t want to do that. I didn’t think—”

  He touched her arm, slid his glove down her leather sleeve to where her hand gripped the helmet.

  “That was a joke, Rachel.” Either a bad one, or he wasn’t good at joking. “The bike isn’t that fragile, and the ground here is soft. But most important, you’re not going to fall.”

  Rachel stared at him, eyes searching his.

  “Don’t count on it,” she muttered, almost to herself.

  * * *

  RACHEL THOUGHT SHE KNEW what learning to ride a motorcycle would be like. She’d sit on the bike, turn a key, then push off like she did on a bicycle.

  She was wrong.

  “Have you driven a car with a choke? Or a stick shift?” Ryker asked.

  She shook her head.

  His motorcycle wasn’t an automatic. And it had a choke. Rachel had to listen to Ryker explain what the choke did, and when she should use it. Then she had to learn about a clutch and shifting gears.

  This was going to be a lot different from driving her car. A lot more complicated.

  He crouched beside the bike, showing her where the choke, the clutch and the gear shifter were. He made her repeat everything back to him. It took a few tries. Her brain didn’t really run in mechanical circles. And Ryker in his black leather was a little...distracting. He was close enough that she could see he’d shaved recently, and the freshly cut hair looked soft and touchable.

  And she was going to fail at this if she didn’t concentrate. She blinked and paid attention to the choke again.

  She finally got to sit on the bike. It was bigger and taller than it felt when Ryker was in front of her, taking all the responsibility.

  “We’ll go slow, and I’ll be with you. You remember where the brakes are? Just start it, in Neutral, let it roll down the hill, then brake.”

  Rachel drew in a breath. She firmed her jaw, took a grip on the handlebars and then started the bike. She released the brake, lifted her feet and rolled.

  She was a little wobbly. She hadn’t been on a bicycle for a while. But she kept the motorcycle upright, and even that slow lumber was fun, enough that Ryker had to remind her about braking.

  He was right there, beside her. He wasn’t going to let her fall.

  She braked and let her feet hit the ground, keeping her upright.

  She’d kept her visor up, since she wasn’t generating enough speed to need to protect her face. She heard Ryker, panting slightly from keeping up with her, tell her to turn the bike around.

  It wasn’t pretty, but she managed to roll/tilt/shuffle the bike till it was facing back the way it came from.

  “We’ll try first gear now. You’re going to hit the clutch, use your foot to get it in first, let out the gas, then slowly release the clutch. As soon as you’re back where we started from, pull the clutch and the brakes together and put your feet back down.”

  Rachel stared at the machine. She mentally replayed the steps she’d have to do to make this happen. Then she nodded.

  This was it. This was going to be actually driving the bike.

  First gear. Clutch and gas. And then, the bike lurched forward.

  She gripped the brakes hard, and it stalled.

  Her feet were on the ground, and Ryker was behind her, holding the seat, making sure she was upright.

  “I’m sorry!” She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. “I forgot the clutch. Did I hurt it?”

  Ryker moved beside her. He touched her arm, gently squeezed it.

  “It’s okay, Rachel. No harm, no foul.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re not the first person to do that. I promise. You’ll probably do it again. Are you okay? Do you want to keep going, or do you want to break for today?”

  Rachel moved her gaze from the hand on her arm, to the bike and back to Ryker’s face.

  “Do you mind if we keep going?”

  He shook his head, lips tilted upward. “Not at all. How about you turn, glide back down and try coming up in first again?”

  Rachel nodded, and worked the awkward turn. Then glided down the hill again to work another turn.

  At least the glide was a little smoother this time.

  Ryker was beside her, every time. She figured he was getting a full cardio workout with this.

  He didn’t remind her of all she needed to do. He waited, let her think it through and then followed her up the hill as she found first gear, accelerated, and at the top, managed to hit the clutch with the brakes, bringing the bike to a halt, engine still rumbling.

  She knew she was grinning ear to ear.

  “I did it.”

  He nodded.

  “I want to do it again. Make sure I can. But maybe...” Her voice trailed off as she realized she was asking him to run up and down the hill with her.

  “Do you want to try without training wheels?”

  “You’re the training wheels, right?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m going to need to do it eventually, unless you plan to run down the road behind me all the time?”

  She loved the way his mouth hitched up.

  “Not gonna do that.”

  “Okay, so I’ll do it on my own. Can I put it in gear to go down?”

  “If you feel ready to do that, give it a try.”

  * * *

  SHE DID IT five more times, up and down, never out of first gear, but becoming comfortable with the steps, starting to follow them without looking like she was listing them in her head each time.

  “That’s probably a good start.”

  Rachel bit her lip, a guilty look on her face.

  “This must be so boring for you.”

  “It’s fine.” He was sincere. He hadn’t had as uneventful and easy a time on this property that he could remember.

 

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