Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
After saying their goodbyes to the North Bay Chapter, Texas and Sunday climbed onto his Harley and headed farther down the road with Eros right behind them.
The first place they saw serving breakfast, they pulled in. Sitting in a corner booth, the conversation stayed easy. Neither man noticed the dark, heavy clouds rolling in overhead.
Storms weren’t unusual. Hell, weather in Canada was unpredictable on a good day.
As they finished their coffee, Eros caught the bill, nodding to Texas. “Leave the tip.”
Outside, the sky told a different story.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Eros asked, staring up at the shifting clouds.
“How the hell would I know what you’re thinking?”
Eros squinted. “Those clouds don’t look warm and inviting.”
Texas gave a dry laugh. “Eros, it’s fucking March. Warm and inviting hasn’t arrived yet. If you want sunshine and roses, head south to Florida.”
Hands raised in mock surrender, Eros chuckled. He knew better than to push. Still, he couldn’t help but glance sideways at his friend. Texas didn’t look fully present. The weight of that nightmare still clinging to him like an old coat.
“If we’re running,” Eros said, straddling his bike, “let’s run, Kemosabe.”
Texas looked over at Eros, who was grinning like an idiot. “Nakota,” he warned, “don’t make me skin you.”
Eros busted out laughing, swinging a leg over his bike and settling into the saddle. “If your woman decides riding with you is boring, she can always climb on with me.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Texas whipped his head around, his scowl sharp and instant.
That was all the answer Eros needed.
Yep, Texas was falling for the scared little mouse.
Who could blame him? When a woman looked at you like you held her whole world in your hands… Well, you tended to want to protect that world.
For however long it kept spinning.
Three hours into the ride, they hit standstill traffic. Neither man liked it.
Eros yelled over the roar of engines and pipes, “Been here before!” He remembered all too well—Cree and Kennedy had gotten stuck like this once, trying to make it to Montreal in the dead of winter.
When he spotted the sign for Highway 29, Eros knew what to do. They could take the back roads, cut over to Highway 7, and loop back to Highway 417.
Signaling to Texas, he pulled onto the shoulder and rolled past the rows of idling cars. At the exit, he turned off and onto Hwy 29. Rolling was better than sitting, especially with that storm creeping up behind them.
They made it into Carleton Place just as the sky opened up.
Rain came hard and fast.
They pulled into a gas station and shut down the bikes. Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the metal canopy above them.
Hell of a season, Eros thought. Had to be the wettest one yet.
“Great call, Nakota,” Texas shouted over the deafening rain pounding the metal overhang.
He pulled out his phone and checked the radar—nothing but green and red swallowing the screen.
Shit.
They should’ve stayed in North Bay.
If it were just him, he’d push through, but he wasn’t about to put Sunday through that. Not in this storm.
The system didn’t look like it would blow over anytime soon. Across the road, he spotted a 7 West Motel. If the storm didn’t ease up in the next hour, they’d hole up there for the night. They were well clear of Sudbury and Sunday’s ex—that was what mattered.
After nearly an hour at the gas station, Texas made the call.
The overhead awning creaked and groaned with each gust, sounding like it might rip free and come crashing down.
Texas pointed toward the motel and called out over the roar of the storm, “I say we make our way over, grab a room. Might as well settle in—this shit isn’t going anywhere until tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t we check the forecast before we left North Bay?” Eros asked, shouting over the rain, more curious than annoyed.
“I was ready to get in the wind,” Texas replied.
Sunday didn’t complain when Texas told her to get back on the bike. She was going wherever he was.
Her sneakers were soaked through, her clothes clinging like a second skin. A hot shower sounded like heaven.
Gripping the bitch bar behind her, Sunday nearly slid off the seat when Texas hit a hidden pothole, swallowed by the rising water on the road. Instinct took over, she grabbed the back of his jacket and wrapped her arms tight around his waist.
Crossing the road was more treacherous than it should have been. The bike slipped, skidded, and sloshed over the rain-slicked two-lane before finally pulling into the motel lot. A narrow unloading space gave just enough room for them to coast in.
Texas killed the engine, boots planted in the puddles.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder.
Sunday nodded and stayed right where she was—sitting on a wet seat, her even wetter ass now cold and miserable. The rain showed no signs of letting up, and the wind cut straight through her soaked clothes.
When Texas came back out, he tossed a room key to Eros, then swung a leg over the bike and started it up again.
“We’ve got to pull around to the other side,” he said.
Of course they did. Sunday held back a sigh as they eased back into the downpour.
Back into the driving rain they went, tires splashing through deepening puddles as they circled the motel.
Even though it was only across the parking lot, Sunday felt like she was being pelted with a thousand icy needles. Riding on the back of a bike in weather like this—ill-prepared and soaked to the bone—sucked big damn balls.
Texas and Eros backed their bikes into the spaces in front of the two motel rooms. Texas tapped Sunday’s leg and handed her the key so she could go inside.
She slid off the bike and rushed toward the door, while Texas shut down the engine and stayed where he was, letting the cold rain soak him through.
Not everyone liked being rained on.
Texas did.
He loved it.
He closed his eyes, the pounding of water on his shoulders pulling him into a memory—back at the orchard, walking the rows of trees while a gentle rain soaked the ground, the scent of wet leaves and soil thick in the air.
For a moment, the chaos faded.
Then a clap of thunder split the sky above, sharp and jarring.
Texas opened his eyes, the memory shattered—ruined by motherfucking nature.
Texas swung off the bike and unstrapped the S.A.C., hauling the luggage under one arm as he made his way to the room. He noticed Eros had vanished quicker than expected. For being an Indian, the man sure didn’t care much for being one with nature.
Shaking his head, Texas stepped inside and shut the door behind him, then stopped short. Across the room, the bathroom mirror reflected perfectly into the vanity mirror above the sink.
There stood Sunday—naked, waiting for the shower to heat up. He froze. The bag slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a dull thud.
The sound was enough. Sunday looked up and, without a word, closed the bathroom door the rest of the way.
Texas was already having trouble with how close Sunday had gotten and now he knew what was beneath those baggy clothes she always wore. And it wasn’t half bad.
When Sunday stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, she could hear Texas talking on the phone. Not wanting to interrupt, she moved quietly through the room and climbed onto the bed closest to the wall.
His back was to her, so she just sat there, trying not to listen—but hearing every word anyway.
“Monday, what do you mean you’re leaving for work?”
A pause.
“I can’t not go. The money’s too good to pass up, Texas.”
“We’ll be there tomorrow.”
Another pause, shorter this time.
“Listen, Sunday understands. I’m leaving the key to the apartment at the bar, along with some cash so she can grab groceries. I’ll be back by the end of the month. Six weeks tops.”
Texas didn’t understand how Monday could just up and leave before he got Sunday to Montreal. Had he misread her feelings towards her younger sister? “Fine. I’ll let her know when we arrive.” Hanging up Texas was more than frustrated with a woman he’d yet lay eyes on.
“How long have you and Monday been an item?” Sunday asked from her perch on the opposite bed.
Texas blinked, caught off guard. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
He immediately regretted the sharpness. She’d been through enough. Now her family was falling apart around her.
Sunday shrugged, trying to keep her voice light. “The way you said her name… sounded… intimate. And the tone when you were talking to her. More than acquaintances, right?”
Texas shook his head, a rough smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Little girl, you’ve got a lot to learn about men and relationships. Look at the situation you just got out of. You’re clueless.”
He saw the hurt flicker across her face, and it twisted something deep inside him. God, he hated himself for that.
Unable to face his own tangled emotions, Texas walked out, leaving Sunday sitting alone on the bed. He tried not to slam the door, but to him, it sounded just like that.
Staring out at the pothole-riddled parking lot, he wanted nothing more than to throttle Monday for leaving, and for putting him in this damn mood.
He wouldn’t blame Sunday. She’d simply made an observation. A bad observation, sure. But an observation all the same.