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The smooth, luxurious leather seat cradles me as I hug the winding curves of the road. En route back to Simon Energy, my stomach begins a thunderous roar, demanding my attention. I realize I haven’t had lunch yet, so I make a pit stop at my favorite little country diner, The Village.
Pulling into the small gravel lot, the only vehicle in sight is a black Harley. Mister Badass Biker. I let the motor of the Camaro idle as I argue with myself over eating lunch alone, while peering into the mesmerizing blue eyes that captured my attention once before, or sulking in my office over a cold ham sandwich. Damn it Carly, it’s just lunch! I scold myself, before climbing out of the Camaro.
I walk with a proud stride into The Village, taking a seat towards the back of the restaurant. As the waitress makes her way over to me, I immediately place my order for a large sweet tea and chicken and dumplings, one of my favorite comfort foods. A nervous wave rolls tightly in my stomach, before it comes crashing down, sending shocking twinges throughout me. Fidgeting to find a distraction, before our gazes lock, I turn my attention to a bubble pop game on my cell phone; any distraction is welcome at this point. It will save me the embarrassment of gawking at the sexy biker.
Glancing nervously, I see Mister Badass Biker is wearing faded jeans with worn holes at the knees, a tight grey t-shirt sprawled across his muscular chest, and a black ball hat, turned backwards on his head. Before getting caught stealing glances, I quickly avert my eyes back to the screen of my smartphone, completely uninterested in popping bubbles.
Minutes pass before the aroma of buttery decadence fills my senses. Inhaling deeply, I look up to see rough hands setting a bowl of homemade chicken and dumplings down before me. As our eyes meet, the most beautiful smile spreads across his tan face. Mouth agape, I stare deep into his spell binding baby blues. My mouth begins to water at the sight of this glorious man.
His deep husky voice breaks my trance. “Sorry, Mitzi went on a smoke break, and I didn’t want your food to get cold.” Unable to speak, I smile, shaking my head lightly in appreciation. “Ain’t seen that beautiful smile in a damn long time,” the sexy biker says. Stunned at his brazenness, I arch my eyebrow and look at him for a second, trying to register any sense of familiarity. “You don’t remember me, do ya, Carly?”
My cheeks flush red from embarrassment, as I shake my head from left to right, “Should I?”
He laughs a hearty chuckle, and sits down at the table, casually.
Leaning forward, he peers deep in my eyes, then reaches up and rubs his finger across his eye brow. “Eighth grade gym class, we were playin’ softball. You couldn’t catch the ball, so I laughed at you. Sure as hell could throw though. I made you so mad pickin’ on ya every time you dropped the ball, that you threw the damn ball right at my face, splittin’ my eye brow in two. Remember now?”
I stare at him for a second, as the dreadful memory of my junior high days flash back through my memory. My mouth drops, because this man, this bad ass biker sitting in front of me sure as HELL ain’t the same wimpy kid I knew so many years ago.
“Luke? Luke Ashton?” He nods as a gorgeous smile splays across his tan cheeks.
“Oh my god I’m so embarrassed, I had no idea. You look, amazing.” I stand and give him a warm hug, and he embraces me tightly, as he sniffs my hair. What the hell? Did he really just sniff me? Weird. The heat of his touch singes my skin, sending an electrifying jolt coursing through straight to my core. I feel unbalanced. I pull away from him quickly, and sit back down.
“Join me.” I nod to the chair he just stood from.
He gives me a panty melting smile and says, “I’d love to honey, but it’s supposed to start stormin’ soon, and I’m on my bike.”
“Well it was good seein’ ya. Be safe out there.”
He nods and says, “See ya ‘round,” before turning on his heels towards the counter. Before he exits the restaurant, he slides his aviators onto his chiseled face, and flashes me a sweet smile.
Staring down at the bowl of southern goodness of chicken and dumplings, I try to focus on my lunch, so I can get back to the mines. I check my email while I eat, a good distraction from the frenzy of events my day has been filled with.
After I have cleaned my bowl, I grab my purse to leave. At the counter, I ask for my check, and a to-go cup of sweet tea.
“Sweetie, Luke paid your check.” Mitzi, the bubbly blond waitress says.
“Luke? Why?” I ask in confusion.
“Ah, honey, he’s just sweet like that, yeah.” Handing me the to-go cup of sweet tea, Mitzi asks if I need anything else. Handing her a tip, I thank her for my meal, and make my way out into the chilly fall day.
I climb into my Camaro quickly, trying to shield myself from the breeze that is blowing through the air. Dark grey clouds begin to mask the sun, warning of the rain storm rolling in. I drive with caution in the rain back to Simon Energy on the winding roads. The wind is strong and fierce, as the heavens open up and lightening crashes down from the sky. My senses immediately heighten as fear takes over. I have always been terrified of storms.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turn white from the tension. I continue to drive the curvy roads, when I come upon a motorcycle parked along the shoulder of the road. The weather is too treacherous for any stranded motorists, so I pull along the side of the shoulder to see if I can help. Rolling down the passenger side window, I yell, “Do you need any help?” As the biker raises the visor on his helmet, I am met with baby blue eyes yet again. Before he can even respond to my question I yell to him, “Luke, get in the car!”
Standing from the Harley, he shakes the water from his leather jacket, and in a few strides, he opens the car door and climbs in. Luke pulls his helmet off first, then the black leather jacket. Cranking the heat up, I pull out onto the road. Running his hands down his soaked, tight denim jeans, he releases a huff of air.
“Didn’t think it was gonna storm this early.” Luke says as he looks up at me. Stealing glances while trying to concentrate on the road, I smile shyly at him.
“Where do you live, and I’ll drop you off?”
“Same old place, Millers Branch.”
We ride in silence for ten minutes through the torrential downpour. Lightning strikes crash down consistently, keeping my nerves frayed. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Luke begins to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him, offended that he has the nerve to laugh at someone kind enough to save his ass from the storm.
“Sorry, I’m not laughin’ at you, really. You have the steerin’ wheel in death grip. Are you scared of storms?”
