Chapter 11
They rode for another few hours before stopping at a service plaza where Rafe had arranged a stop for gas and lunch. He gave them forty-five minutes, but said if they could cut it to thirty they’d make better time.
Allison had seen the ominous storm clouds to the west and agreed with him. Riding in the rain, even with proper gear, wasn’t fun, and oil slicks made it hazardous, not to mention bad drivers prone to sudden swerving.
She volunteered to stay with Comet, who wasn’t allowed inside the service plaza, while the others headed off.
Allison hooked up Comet’s leash and walked him around the grass.
Diana pulled off her helmet and stretched, walking over to Allison. “Ally, do you have any money for lunch?”
Sighing, she pulled out forty dollars from the wallet in her waist pack. Another thing—her sister didn’t like waist packs. Allison always had one to carry her valuables wherever she went riding. “Here. Get me a water and a sandwich. Anything but something hot. No hamburgers or meatballs.”
Diana waved the money. “Be right back.”
When she finished walking Comet, she handed the leash over to Debbie.
The others had emerged with lunch and drinks.
Rafe sat at a picnic table with Sam and Keith.
Dressed in leather jacket, jeans and biker boots, Rafe looked sexy.
Hot. Allison felt herself staring. Rafe’s gaze tracked her as she sipped her bottle of water. She ignored Rafe’s scrutinizing look.
A twentysomething man ambled up to their table, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking around.
“Hey, you guys on those bikes?” The kid pointed to the motorcycles nearby.
Keith nodded.
“Cool. I thought so.” The kid glanced around and lowered his voice. “Know where I can score some good weed?”
Allison nearly spit out her sip of water.
Sam and Rafe exchanged amused looks. Sam stood, hitching up his jeans.
“No, but if you do find some, let me know.”
He pulled out his US Marshals badge.
The kid turned whiter than Diana’s wedding gown. “Um, ah...”
“I’d like to know as well,” Rafe said, showing his FBI identification.
“Sorry, I was joking man, just kidding.”
They laughed as the teenager ran off as if the hounds of hell were pursuing him.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think my outlaw wife and I will find some grass for Comet before we hit the road.”
“Grass, not weed,” Debbie chimed in. “Make sure he poops, too.”
Keith winked. “The way she’s demanding of me is criminal.”
Rafe laughed and watched them head out. Sam stood up and nodded at Allison. “Think I’ll stretch my legs as well.”
Allison took the seat Sam vacated. The spicy scent of Rafe’s cologne scented the air like an aphrodisiac. Why was she such a sucker for guys with a faint hint of cologne, scruffy day beard and tangled, dark hair that looked like he’d recently climbed out of a bed?
“That kid... Unreal.” She shook her head.
“Biker stereotypes.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “I can’t tell you how many times on the road someone thinks I’m a bad boy because I ride a bike and wear leather, or how many drooling women cling to me like barnacles. And here I am, single, my only company a stuffed bear sitting on my lonely bed.”
Allison had to laugh at the image. “Maybe you should have taken the teddy to breakfast and that kid wouldn’t have asked you about drugs.”
Rafe grinned. “Didn’t want to ruin my image of the sexy, bad biker.”
She gestured to his glass. “You already did, rough rider, with the chocolate milk. Milk isn’t exactly sexy.”
His grin widened. “That’s what you think.”
He sipped, leaving a slim milk mustache. About to point it out, Allison watched as he slowly licked the liquid off his upper lip. The deliberate gesture was teasing and provocative.
Still, she found herself more turned on than irritated.
Pretending otherwise, Allison took a big gulp of water. She glanced around, desperate for a diversion. Maybe the weather.
“Think we’ll run into rain?”
Rafe wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “I bother you, Allison. I can tell.”
“Of course not,” she lied.
“Liar,” he said softly. “Your pulse kicked up, you’re sweating a little and you keep avoiding my eyes.”
She blushed. Lordy, she’d been chilled before but now her body felt like a furnace. At a loss for words, she shrugged. Suddenly her water bottle seemed fascinating. The way they’d stamped the logo on the label...
“The real question is how do I bother you? Annoying bother? I think not. Bother in the way a woman is bothered by a man she’s attracted to...”
“Attracted to you?” Her laugh sounded fake even to her ears. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Rafe.”
“Did I suggest us sleeping together? I was thinking more along the lines of a first date, not in bed, but a restaurant.” Rafe’s gaze caressed her like a lingering stroke.
“Like this one? How romantic.” She waved a hand at the service plaza.
Suddenly he frowned. “Speaking of food, where’s your lunch?”
“Diana promised to get me something...”
Diana finally emerged from the building, carrying a sandwich. “Here.”
Allison unwrapped the sandwich.
Meatball parm. Biting back her irritation, she debated. Eating this would give her indigestion all day.
She handed it back to Diana. “I’m not hungry. Where’s my drink?”
“Forgot. Sorry.”
Diana shrugged and ate Allison’s sandwich, walking away to talk on her cell phone between bites.
The sisterly bonding this trip wasn’t off to a great start.
Giving Diana a thoughtful look, Rafe went inside. He emerged from the service plaza, a paper bag and a bottle in hand. He handed it to her.
“Turkey on whole wheat, tomato, lettuce, light mayo. And a wild cherry sports drink.” His mouth twitched. “I remember from that time when I took you to lunch.”
She peered into the bag with delight. Her stomach rumbled.
How was it this man knew her preferences better than her own sister who she’d grown up with?
She gulped down a bite.
“Slow down or you’ll get sick. And I’m not a nurse.”
“You said we had to leave in forty-five minutes. Don’t have much time.”
“I’ll make time for you,” he said softly. “Eat.”
Such consideration warmed her. “I remember that lunch. You gave me the ultimatum—work as a confidential informant for you or go to jail for aiding and abetting a criminal. Even though I didn’t know he was a criminal and I was only treating a gunshot wound.”
“You treated him.”
“I’m a nurse. What do you expect?”
His mouth twitched again. “Take your time with your sandwich.”
She drank some, polished off the sandwich in a few bites and balled up the wrapper.
“You eat faster than I do,” he said.
“Like I said, I’m a nurse. I don’t get much time to eat on the job. Sometimes I get so busy I can barely gulp down a meal, so when I do get a break, I take advantage of it.”
“Unlike your sister.” He inclined his head at Diana, still walking around the parking lot and talking on her cell, ignoring everyone else.
Allison drank her sports drink, eyeing him. He looked anything like a cop, which could be a good thing. Wind ruffled his hair. Her gaze traveled over the waistband of his jeans, caught a glimpse of a holster.
“Do you always carry?” she asked.
Rafe nodded. “Especially on the road.”
“The others do the same? Concealed?” She gestured with the sandwich at Sam, scrolling through his phone, and Keith and Debbie, playing with Comet.
“Always.”
Her gaze went to Sam’s bike and the shotgun holster attached to it. The chrome holster gleamed in the sunlight.
Noticing her stare, Rafe pointed. “Sam’s a deputy US Marshal. That’s a legal Remington TAC-14. Department uses short barrel shotguns for witness protection and moving witnesses.”
“Didn’t know Sam was moving a witness on this trip.”
“He’s entitled to carry protection. Open roads can be dangerous. Cops know this more than anyone else, Allison.”
A shudder raced through her. “Short barrel shotguns are easy to conceal. Guess that’s why Sam likes his, but you can see he means business by carrying it on his bike.”
“His weapon is part of him. Like mine.” Rafe patted the hidden holster on his belt.
“I don’t like guns.”
“Probably because you’ve treated too many GSWs.”
Surprised at his insight, she nodded. “Gunshot wounds are the worst, especially a high-powered gun like an AR-15. The damage is... ”
Falling silent, she drank more sports drink, her appetite vanishing. Like all those other times in the emergency room after treating victims of gun violence, trying desperately to save them and failing.
“Devastating,” he finished softly. “Vital organs shredded. Yeah, I’ve seen a few too many crime scenes. And no matter what weapons we carry, the bad guys always seem to be better armed.”
He tilted his head. “You’re an enigma, Allison Lexington. You’re a trauma nurse. You don’t like guns because you’ve seen the result of gunshot wounds, yet you ride a motorcycle.”
“That’s different. I love to ride, love the thrills and the freedom I have with being on the open road.
I control the journey as best as I can and I never take risks on the road.
Sometimes after my contract ends, or is terminated at a particular hospital—I work as a travel nurse—I’ll take off for a few days to see the rest of the state. ”
“That can be risky for a single woman.”
He sounded almost protective.
Allison shrugged again. “I always watch my back and I carry this.”
His eyes widened as she removed the switchblade from her pocket and depressed the button. Sunlight dappling the trees winked on the six inches of steel.
Rafe laughed. “You would bring a knife to a gunfight. You think a knife is effective protection?”
“When you know what organs to hit to cause damage and then give you a chance to run, yeah.” She folded back the blade. “I wanted to get a ballistic knife, but those are illegal.”
Rafe’s expression tightened. “They can pierce a cop’s body armor. Drug dealers like them as much as guns because the blade is expelled with force up to sixteen feet away.”
“I know.” Allison swallowed hard, thinking of the case she’d treated. “Guy I had in the ER back in New York was a cop shot with one of those. A few inches lower and it would have hit his heart.”
They both fell silent for a moment, as if digesting the wrath of violence they’d both witnessed in their respective jobs. Rafe gestured to her sister.
“Does your sister know anything about what you do?”
“Diana?” She couldn’t help her slight laugh. “She’s a model. Her world is about glam and social media and being an influencer and growing her fan base.”
Rafe watched Diana, the sensuous way she flung her long hair, the sway of her hips as she walked. Her sister always commanded attention.
All those times in high school when she’d shown interest in a boy and then dared to bring him home, either to study or watch movies. Diana, her baby sister with the beautiful face and winsome ways, made the boys fall at her feet.
It was a fact of life. Allison was the smart and plain daughter and Diana the beauty.
But damn, for once she’d like a guy to pay attention to her, really see her worth, not her sister’s.
Rafe wasn’t a guy Allison could date. He was too dangerous, too involved in a job that would always come first. Yet she couldn’t help her attraction to him.
Then she realized Rafe wasn’t watching Diana the way other men did, with an appreciative gaze roving over her lithe body and lovely face. His gaze was speculative.
Like a cop watching a suspect. It amused and alarmed her.
“No wonder Hernandez likes her. He always likes pretty women as decorations.”
“She’s not a decoration.”
“But she is marrying into that family.” Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Diana has to know what Hernandez is all about. No matter how clean her fiancé is.”
“Paul’s okay. He’s head over heels in love with her. And she loves him, so I guess love is blind, for her, anyway.”
“You don’t want her marrying him.”
“Yes and no.” There it was, out in the open.
“I think she’s rushing into marriage, and I hate the fact Paul’s uncle is Hernandez.
Forget about the rep with the drugs and criminal activity.
He’s slimy. When I met him at Di’s engagement party, he kissed me on both cheeks. I had the urge to sanitize my face.”
Rafe’s mouth quirked. “I can only imagine how distasteful that was to you.”
He gestured to Diana walking away from Sam, who had joined Keith and Debbie. “Your sister has barely said two words to anyone other than you. For someone who’s always on social media, she’s being quite antisocial.”
“She misses her fiancé.” It sounded lame.
Rafe walked her over to the trash can. “You always make excuses for her?”
“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth. I had to talk her into coming with me. Our family has a cabin near the bike rally, and Diana wanted to see it one last time before she gets married. She needs the alone time.”
“And what about your needs, Allison? When do you think of yourself?”
The question stung. It sounded almost like an accusation, but looking at him, his gaze was kind.
She shrugged. “Later. I’m trained to put the needs of others before myself.”
“Work is one thing. What about your family?”
That hit too close to home. Allison drained her water. “What about you, Special Agent Rodriguez? Your job? Your family?”
“Supervisory Special Agent Rodriguez,” he corrected, but with a smile. “We’re talking about you, not me.”
“You’re Cuban, so I bet you have a family who is always in your business.”
“Half Cuban.”
“Aha. There you go.”
“What?” He frowned.
“Most Cubans say they’re Cuban. They’re proud of their heritage.
They don’t say they are half Cuban, even if they are.
At least the ones I’ve met. They may say they’re Cuban American.
” Allison gave a long stretch. “Your nana said your dad was American. A cop who died on the job. That has to have an effect on you.”
His entire demeanor went from friendly to ice-cold. “I don’t want to talk about him. It’s getting late. Let’s roll.”
As she barked at Diana to get on her bike, Allison donned her helmet and started up the Harley. She’d hit a nerve with him. So Mr. Supervisory Special Agent Rodriguez had a vulnerable spot when it came to his family.
Don’t we all? Sighing, she followed Rafe out of the parking lot and back onto the highway.