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* * *
Juliette agreed,and they exchanged phone numbers, both somewhat distracted as they did so. As they spoke, Chains observed the way she nervously clutched her purse and glanced around at the other items for sale. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was a collector or if her interest in the chest went deeper.
Juliette looked over at Chains’ truck and her eyes lingered for a moment before snapping back to him.
Chains’ 1956 Ford flatbed truck was a sight to behold. It was heavily modified to suit his needs. At the rear of the truck was a powerful winch, ready to haul anything that needed moving, along with a tilt tray that could easily accommodate a variety of cargo. The matte black paint gave the truck a menacing appearance along with the Jokers MC Jester “patch” adorning each door, a symbol of Chains’ loyalty and affiliation to his club. Hanging in various places around the truck were chains, adding an extra touch of character to the already imposing vehicle. Under the hood was a big block Ford V8 engine, providing plenty of muscle for any task needed.
Within the truck’s cab, the aged and worn leather seats, like the faces and hands of the old-timer bikers at the club, would surely be witness to more stories than he could ever imagine.
Although the truck’s exterior appeared rugged, the unadorned interior was meticulously clean and organized, mirroring Chains’ pride in his vehicle and his minimalist approach to all aspects of his life. He possessed only what was necessary, as anything else would detract from his sense of peace and freedom. The truck served as his workhorse, while his Harley was his true companion on life’s journey.
As Juliette’s gaze moved from the truck to Chains, he felt a rush of self-consciousness. With his tattoos, chains, muscles, and long hair, he knew he didn’t fit the traditional mold of the average guy. He wondered what she thought of him, if she found him intimidating or intriguing.
As they reached out to shake hands, Chains felt a jolt of electricity pass between them. He saw a flash of surprise in her eyes, and she pulled back suddenly, as if startled by the sensation.
“Ah…um… Nice doing business with you,” Juliette said, her voice a little breathless as she gave him a nervous smile.
Chains returned the smile, wishing he could wrap his arms around her and pull her into a hug. As she turned to leave, he felt a sense of longing wash over him. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to explore this connection that had sparked between them.
As Juliette hurried away, Chains watched as she disappeared into the crowd. He took out his phone and looked at her number.Fuck, I forgot to ask her name.
He wandered in the direction he’d seen her go and managed to see her just as she got into an old Honda Civic sedan. He stopped walking, thinking that she would be gone before he got there.
But she stayed seated behind the wheel for what would have been ample time for him to have gotten her name.
The car had seen better days, with chipped paint and dings along the sides. The silver finish was dull and lacked the shine of a newer vehicle, and the hubcaps were missing on two of the wheels.
Just as he was about to race over to her and ask for her name, Juliette started the engine, and he watched as it sputtered to life, spewing out a plume of smoke that spoke volumes about its age and condition, before she drove away. As she pulled out of the parking lot, he couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face. He ambled back to his truck, still smiling. Her car was a beater, yet there she was purchasing antiques at a swap meet. It led him to believe that she must be a collector; no other explanation seemed plausible. If she were a dealer, her trade didn’t appear to be overly lucrative, judging by her choice of transportation.
As leaned back against his truck, Chains replayed the encounter in his mind. He thought about the way she had looked at him, the nervous smile on her lips, and the spark that had passed between them as they shook hands. He wondered what it all meant and where it might lead.
* * *
Juliette had rushed backto her car, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over her. She couldn’t believe how nervous she had been, how she had stumbled over her words and pulled back when they had touched. But there was something about Chains that had left her feeling breathless and exhilarated.
As she sat in her car, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She wondered what he was like, what his life was like, and what kind of adventures he might be up for. She knew that there was something special about him, but she couldn’t have someone like that in her life. There was no room for anyone else in her life now.
* * *
Chains calledher once he thought she’d had enough time to make it home and asked for her address. She seemed rushed and before he could ask her name she’d ended the call.
Later that day, he pulled up to Juliette’s house, the wooden chest secured to the back of his truck. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the cluttered yard. He frowned as he took in the piles of stuff that filled the space. This was not what he had expected.
Once parked in a spot as close as he could get to her house, he carried it to her front door, setting it down on the ground, and knocked. Juliette appeared nervous, her hands clasped together in front of her as she stood in the doorway. Chains couldn’t read her thoughts, but he could sense her hesitation.
“Thanks for bringing it,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. Chains stopped for a moment, taking in the chaos that filled her home. It resembled the yard, only more cramped and overwhelming.
“Chains,” he said as he held out his hand to her.
“Oh, right...sorry. Juliette. I was so thrilled about my purchase that I forgot to tell you my name.”
“No worries, I left that part out as well.”
He stooped down to pick up the chest, and with it cradled in his arms, he turned his focus to her.
She had changed her clothes since the swap meet, clad now in form-fitting jeans that emphasized her shapely legs and hips, along with a snug white t-shirt that highlighted her flawless curves. Her feet were bare adding a touch of casualness and vulnerability to her overall look.
She would even look beautiful wearing a sugar sack. He found himself enthralled by her natural beauty and the way she seemed so comfortable in her own skin. It was refreshing to see someone who didn’t need to dress up or put on airs to be attractive.
