Rising Heat (10 page)

He said nothing but merely nodded, then gestured toward the doors of the coffee shop. Walking next to him, I realized once again just how tall he was. I came up to the middle of his chest. In fact, if he was standing in front of me without a shirt on, I think my eyes would’ve been leveled at the top strand of barbed wire tattooed just about equidistant between his collarbone and his nipples.

As we stepped to the door, I was surprised when he took a half step in front of me and opened the door. He stood back to let a middle-aged couple through, then gestured for me to enter in front of him. Okay, so he had manners.

“Want a muffin or a bagel or a pastry or something with your coffee? Then we can sit outside if you want.”

Although I was hungry, I shook my head. “No, just a cup of coffee, please.”

“Pick your poison.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll take a skinny caramel mocha, please. Small.”

He nodded as he stepped to the counter. He ordered the caramel mocha for me and a large black coffee for himself.

“Name?” the barista asked.

“Ash.”

The barista, a young girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, glanced shyly up at him, stared a moment, then nodded. She wrote his name on both cups in black marker, then busied herself making the order. Ash paid the cashier, then we stepped to the side to wait for our coffee. Neither one of us said anything during the wait. I could feel curious eyes on us. Well, on him, mostly. Maybe curiosity when it came to me. What’s
she
doing with
him?

It didn’t take long for our order. Ash took them both, then gestured outside toward the patio. There weren’t a lot of people outside, most wanting to be inside to escape the midday heat, but I welcomed it. Based on his tan, Ash liked it too.

This time, I opened the door and held it open as he stepped through, making his way toward a small table near the end of the building, away from the drive thru window. He placed both cups down on the table, then waited until I sat down before he did. Indeed.

“You like the sunshine, don’t you?”

He glanced at me in surprise and then grinned. Oh my God, why did he have to do that? The flash of white teeth. He had
dimples.
The twinkle in his eye. How could I not be attracted?

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re tan, for one. For two, the fact that you wanted to sit outside. I get the impression that most people think this kind of weather is outrageously hot.”

He shrugged. “When you grow up in a place that gets as cold as it does here, anything above seventy-five feels hot. Where do you come from? You a Colorado native?”

I took a sip of my coffee and shook my head. “San Diego. I’ve not quite spent an entire year here, so I’m still trying to get acclimated to the weather.” I didn’t want to say too much about my personal life, but that was an innocent enough question. Turnaround was fair play. “Were you born and raised in Denver?” He didn’t answer but simply shook his head no, sipped his coffee, and looked toward the street past my shoulder.

I said nothing, not feeling particularly inclined to break what I considered a rather awkward silence. He took a couple more sips of his coffee and then turned to look at me. “I want to offer an official apology for the way I acted last night, Kathy,” he said. “It was boorish of me to demand that you bring a tank over just when you were closing up.” He shrugged. “I can be an asshole sometimes.”

Boorish.
The way he said it, with that slight tone of distaste. His mannerisms. He spoke well. He was educated, I sensed that.

“I have to admit that you’re the first to ever made such a demand. Normally, I wouldn’t have agreed, but I just got promoted to assistant manager. I’m not quite sure about the limitations of my duties or what’s expected of me. My boss can be kind of… well, sometimes he can be quite a jerk. To be honest with you Ash, I was afraid that if I didn’t do what you asked, you would call and complain and I’d get fired. I can’t afford that.”

He made a face. “Again, my apologies. Hence this peace offering,” he said, lifting his cup. “Am I forgiven?”

I glanced at him, then tapped my cup against his. He had the sexiest eyes. It didn’t look like he had shaved this morning, but rather than looking scruffy, it just gave him a rugged look. Take him off the motorcycle and put him on a horse with a cowboy hat and he would fit right in.

“I accept your apology. Thank you.” I took another sip of my coffee just to be doing something and was about to speak again when the rumble of engines caught my attention. I turned to glance over my shoulder and saw three motorcycles coming down the street. Same black jackets. The same cluster I’d seen before? It couldn’t be, could it? Then again, maybe they were just cruising. Nothing unusual about that.

I turned back toward Ash, surprised at the expression on his face. He appeared wary, apprehensive almost. He watched the motorcycles and their riders cruise slowly down the street, his gaze narrowed on them between one stop light and the next. They didn’t look our way, but I was curious about his reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

He pulled his gaze from the riders and turned toward me, his expression blank. “Nothing, why?”

I shrugged, deciding not to push it, then repeated my earlier question with a slight variation. “Have you lived in Denver long?”

“Not long,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. “A few years.”

“You like it here?” I knew I was asking inane questions, but while I wanted to appear friendly, I didn’t want to get into anything too serious or that revealed too much personal information. This seemed like a safe topic of conversation.

“Most of the year, yes,” he said. “The winters, not so much.”

I glanced toward his bike, hidden now behind a black SUV. “I sure hope you don’t drive that thing around in the wintertime.”

He grinned. “Actually, I do.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Why? It seems pretty dangerous, not to mention cold.”

Again, he shrugged. “I don’t have a car.”

Oh.

I felt suddenly sad for him. Maybe he couldn’t afford a car. Bikes were a lot cheaper to drive, at least gas-wise. I realized that I’d spent so much time feeling sorry for myself lately that I didn’t consider what others were going through. At least I had a car. Nothing fancy. My Accord had around eight thousand miles on it when I bought it. I was close to paying it off. Four more months and I would get the pink slip, the first big purchase I had made and paid for myself. I could hardly wait. My first major accomplishment. Soon, I thought sardonically, I would only have to worry about coming up with rent payments, school tuition, books, and living expenses. Then, barring any major issues, I should be okay.

I was just about to ask another question, innocuous of course, when I heard motorcycles again. Sure enough, I glanced down the street and saw the same trio as before. I turned to Ash. “What are they doing? They were at the store when I left work. Don’t they have anything better to do than break people’s eardrums all over the place?”

“Ash!” a rider shouted, surprising me even more when he lifted an arm and waved.

I quickly glanced at Ash, who was now glowering at them. I turned back toward the bikers, surprised when the man lowered his arm and mimicked shooting a gun at Ash. The three men laughed and gave their bikes gas, creating an explosion of noise as they roared down the street.

I turned toward Ash. “You know them?”

He glanced at me and offered another shrug. “I’ve seen ‘em around.”

I supposed that made sense. Motorcycle riders had this
thing.
I had seen them passing each other on the road. When they did, they offered this little finger wave. Like they were trying to be cool and not obvious about it. They never did it to anyone riding in a car. Not that I’d seen at least.

“You said you saw them at the store?” he asked.

I turned my attention from the disappearing bikers and back to Ash. One more sip of coffee before I nodded. “Yes. They were just hanging around out front, like they were waiting for someone. They left just after I did.”

He made a noise in his throat, almost like the
humph
my dad used to make when we asked him a question. Sometimes, it seemed like he couldn’t even form a syllable. He just made these noises in his throat to acknowledge that he’d heard me.

Neither one of us said anything for a short time, and the awkwardness between us grew. I busied myself watching passersby and customers going into or coming out of the coffee shop, and occasionally glancing down the street to see how business was going at the pet store. I could just see the front door of the shop from here. Didn’t seem too busy.

I finished my coffee and peeked at Ash. He was looking at me.

I offered a smile. “Well, thank you for the coffee. I’d better get going now. I’ve got errands to run and then I’ve got to catch up on studying. Semi-finals are coming up, and I need to hit the books.”

Ash sat forward in his chair. “You going to school? For what?”

“A degree in veterinary medicine,” I said, and he looked at me funny.

“So you’re going to school
and
working two part-time jobs?”

“Yep. Work during the day, school at night.” When he only continued to watch me, I added, “Well, thank you again for the coffee—”

He reached for my empty cup and placed it inside his own empty one. Then he reached for my hand. I was too surprised to pull it away.

“I’d like to see you again, Kathy.”

Now that surprised me too. “Why?” I felt stupid the minute the word left my lips.

He grinned. “Why not?”

Because I’m too busy.

Because I’m too scared.

Because I want to be with you too bad.

Because I want to see if reality is as good as fantasy.

Because my mouth has suddenly forgotten how to work.

His grin grew even bigger, causing those damn dimples to pop out at me. “How about Monday? You working or going to school Monday afternoon?”

I should’ve lied, but I didn’t. I worked at the pet store Monday from eight in the morning until three in the afternoon. I didn’t have any classes Monday evening. I still should have said no. Instead, I accepted.

“Well, I do work, but I get off at three. No classes that night.”

“So it’s a date?”

His grin was contagious, and I found myself grinning in response. A date. A
date.
Oh my God, I had a date with Ash.

“You want me to pick you up from the pet store? I can drop you back off there to get your car later.”

I was about to tell him that sounded like a good idea before I realized what that meant. “You want me to ride your
motorcycle?”

“Sure, why not? You ever been on a motorcycle before?”

I had, but only for about a minute back in high school. “Once, but it certainly wasn’t like your bike. More like a scooter.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll go for a drive, get some fresh air, then we’ll stop someplace and get a bite to eat. I’ll have you home before dark. Sound good?”

He seemed to be going out of his way to make sure that I felt comfortable around him. Meeting me here at the coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon. Taking me out on a date, again in the afternoon and early evening, making sure that I would be home before dark. Picking me up from the pet store so I wouldn’t feel threatened about him knowing where I lived.

I decided that Ash Bascom was a pretty decent guy. He may not be like any other man I’d ever met, but that’s what happened when you judged someone before getting to know the person. You tended to rely on misguided opinions and expectations.

While I had no idea what to expect of him, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be disappointed.

Ash

I
felt bad lying to Kathy. Well, I didn’t exactly lie, but I didn’t tell the complete truth either. When I saw those guys cruising the street from the table at the coffee shop, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. It exploded into a burst of anger when Kathy told me that she’d seen the same trio at the store where she worked. Coincidence? While I didn’t exactly believe in coincidences, I didn’t want to assume that they knew Kathy. How could they? I just met her Friday night. Unless…

Unless they’d been watching me. Unless they’d been watching my loft and seen her arrive. But no one in the gang except Bones knew where I lived. Or so I thought. They might have seen both of us go to her pet store and then come back. But how had they latched onto me in the first place? One of them might have followed me at any time to see where I lived. But why? Would they seriously go to that much trouble? If they wanted revenge for me quitting the gang, why didn’t they just come after me?

I was probably over reacting. So what, three of the OB Boys were riding down the street. It was a popular street in Denver, a main thoroughfare. Denver wasn’t
that
big, not like Boston or Los Angeles, but it was a major artery running north to south along the Front Range. The interstate that cut right through the middle of town was the main highway to reach any number of towns east or west.

I shook my head. My thoughts had been distracted since Saturday afternoon. I hadn’t recognized the guys on the motorcycles, but then again, I didn’t know everyone, and there were always people coming and going. Some of the gang members came from close by; Pueblo, Colorado Springs, some of the mountain communities. Others came from as far south as Santa Fe or Albuquerque. Some from northern regions in Wyoming, while others often drifted in from the east like I had.

I’d spend the time after my brief coffee date with Kathy assessing my belongings in the loft. The space had lost its appeal, and I wanted to move. I just had to decide if I wanted to put any of my stuff in storage or just chuck it. Doing either wasn’t easy when all you had was a motorcycle. I would have to have one of those charity organizations come by and pick up some of the furniture if they wanted it. There were a couple of tenants on the floor just beneath mine. Maybe I would go down and see if any of them were interested.