Chapter 15 #4
“Ha.” They walked outside the roped-off area displaying the custom bikes to the parking lot. He saw the women weaving through lanes, searching for spaces. “There they are.”
He and Sam caught up with them as they parked. Diana beamed, the glow of a happy bride, he supposed. Allison seemed more subdued. Her long brown hair unbound, she looked mighty attractive today in a lemon yellow shirt, jeans that hugged her long legs and her usual Dr. Martens.
He barely glanced at Diana.
“Did you practice the slow cone drill?” he asked.
Allison made a face. “Only for an hour. I spent most of yesterday looking for venues for Di’s reception.
I couldn’t find anything within forty miles except for a taco restaurant that has amazing fish tacos and terrific chili.
They have a private room they can rent out for a small party.
You think my sister would mind eating tacos, black beans and rice for her wedding dinner? ”
Rafe grinned. “Tacos are good. I’d skip the beans, though. Might make for an awkward wedding night.”
Allison pushed at the long curtain of her hair. “Now she’s nagging me to go shopping and get a new dress.”
“I thought they were eloping.”
“Eloping her style means a smaller wedding, not Di, Paul and a judge willing to marry them at the last minute. I can’t complain. At least I lured her away from Hernandez. I never want her near him again if I can help it.”
A flicker of guilt went through him. He pushed it aside. All for the greater good, right? You have an agenda, but it is for a higher purpose.
You’re using her sister for the greater good. Just like you used Allison last year to nail the Devil’s Patrol gang.
He and Sam opted to avoid alcohol all day in order to stay sharp. They bought sodas at one of the vendors. Allison demurred, but Diana bought bottled water.
There were vendors showing off the latest motorcycle models, custom bike accessories and much more. Games and plenty of food and drink booths. They walked over to the Cornhole for Charity games. Rafe paid and asked Allison to be on his team.
He tossed the beanbag into the hole on the first try. Allison clapped.
As they played, Diana and Sam watched on the sidelines.
“You’re not into cornhole?” Diana asked Sam.
“If I don’t have to shoot it or catch it with a fly rod, my aim isn’t that great.” Sam winked and sipped his cola.
Diana rolled her eyes and checked her phone.
When Allison tossed in the winning beanbag and their team was declared the winner, Rafe let her select the prize. She chose a large pink stuffed teddy bear and handed it to Diana.
“Here. Maybe she can be in your bridal party,” Allison teased.
Diana didn’t smile as she took the bear. He wondered what happened to ruin her mood.
When Diana told them she was headed over to the booths selling everything from biker art to jewelry, Rafe signaled Sam to follow her.
Trailing Allison as she walked up and down the aisles of custom motorcycles on display, he was surprised to see an older model Harley at the end of one lane.
A spry-looking senior stood by the bike, talking with another biker.
Rafe recognized him as Aldie, the veteran from the rest stop who’d agreed to watch out for Allison.
When the bystander moved away, Rafe and Allison approached the older man, who greeted Rafe with a hearty handshake.
Aldie’s admiring gaze swept over Allison. He stuck out a leathery hand. “Name’s Aldie Carlton, from Florida.”
“Allison Lexington.” She studied the Harley. It was a classic and had seen better days. As opposed to the gleaming customized motorcycles on display, it looked a little battered and well-loved.
“Is this your custom bike?” Allison asked.
The older man snorted. “Right. Won’t find me on any of them fancy-ass bikes with the specialized paint. I ride my Bessie, not stick her in a garage and take her out once in a while to show her off.”
Allison grinned. “I like your Bessie.”
“I’m holding a space for a young feller who had to run into town to pick up his girl.”
Aldie had a shock of iron gray hair, a roadmap of wrinkles on his careworn face and sharp, intelligent blue eyes. He wore a ball cap proudly announcing he was a veteran.
Rafe nodded at him. “Thank you for your service to our country, sir.”
Rafe bent down to examine the bike with interest. He ran a hand over the back shocks, the gleaming chrome.
“Nice restoration job, Aldie. I’ve never seen a vintage 1974 Harley.”
The older man shrugged. “Did what I could. Guy who sold it to me way back told me these bikes have a rep for leaking oil. Told me if it don’t leak at least a quart, leave it be.”
Aldie patted the seat, covered with strips of duct tape. Well, not strips. The entire thing was held together with duct tape.
“She’s gorgeous, Aldie. I bet if bikes could talk, she’d tell many stories about where she’s been.”
Cocking his head, Rafe smiled at her. He liked seeing this part of her. “Didn’t know you were so imaginative, Ally.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Stick with me, Rodriguez. I’ll show you how imaginative I can be.”
I bet. He tried to keep from thinking of a slow ride with her in his bed, but his imagination won that battle.
Turning her attention back to Aldie, she gestured to the bike. “How long have you had her?”
“Since the early ’80s, I think. Can’t remember that far back.” He guffawed.
“We’ve been on adventures, this baby and me. She used to be a cop bike with a windshield, but the windshield was removed before I bought it. Wish it wasn’t. Rode from Florida here with bugs in my face and one flew in my mouth. Had it open at the time. Ever taste a fly? Don’t taste too good.”
Allison laughed. Rafe grinned at the picture of Aldie riding with his mouth open, spitting out flies.
“When I go back to Florida, this will be our last ride.” He gazed at the motorcycle as if fondly regarding a longtime partner. “I’m too old for this anymore. Reckon we’re both destined for the junkyard soon. Told my kids I’d like to be buried with her.”
Thinking of his beloved Tita, and how he’d nearly lost her, a lump formed in Rafe’s throat. Allison shook her head with a fierceness he also felt. “You’re not destined for the junkyard, and neither is this beauty.”
His smile was sad. “Thanks, pretty lady, but I know when my time is up and it’s soon. Wish I could ride back in style, but these old bones will need a few more rest stops. I’ll make it.”
“I have no doubt you’ll do well,” Rafe said, and his tone was firm with conviction.
A gleaming yellow motorcycle roared up to them, bearing a younger man and a woman. “Thanks for holding my spot, Aldie.”
“Welcome.”
Aldie nodded at them. “Gotta get back to my group. They’re probably belting down beers at the bar. Baby of our gang is seventy-six. And they say you youngsters can party? We could teach you lessons.”
They watched him mount his bike and ride off.
She pulled Rafe aside. “I have an idea. I have money. There’s a bike repair vendor here at the show...”
“We could swap out the seat with a new leather one and put a windshield on,” he finished. “Split the cost. Give him a gift certificate so he can select what he wants.”
Rafe’s grin equaled her own.
“But he has pride. What will we tell him?”
He considered. “How about we tell him it’s our way of paying him back for his years of service to our country?”
Beaming at him, Allison nodded. “Can’t go wrong with that.”
She shocked him when her palm slid into his as she tugged him toward the vendor who could repair Aldie’s bike.
But more than surprise, he felt a warm glow and a surge of unexpected joy mingling with desire.
Whoa, Rodriguez. Best to put the brakes on this right now.
And yet he didn’t.