Sweet Dreams Page 7

  One morning, I’d found I was out of coffeecake and since I ate half of one most mornings for breakfast, I got in my car in my pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt and went to the grocery store. I was on a mission for coffeecake but the minute I walked into the store I saw Brad, dressed in a suit and ready to go to the office, and Hayley, slim and perfect and wearing a fashionable, figure-skimming dress and high heels, all of this flashing toned legs and arms and her pert bottom. They were standing and waiting for drinks at the chain coffee booth at the front of the store. They looked perfect together and they were smiling at each other about something, clearly in their own little happy world bubble.

  And I was in my pajamas, I hadn’t washed my hair in three days and I knew I intended to go to work without doing my hair, putting on makeup or ironing my clothes.

  I didn’t get the coffeecake. I rushed back to my car, went home and took a shower, shaved my legs for the first time in forever, did my hair, ironed my clothes and made it to work with just seconds to spare.

  I also vowed never to let myself sink that low again. Not for losing my beautiful Brad to the perfect Hayley, not for anything.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t stop eating but at least it was something.

  That day, in Carnal, at the mechanics, even though it was my day off, I still put on a to-the-knee jeans skirt that was a muted shade of red, a red that was just a bit off rust and my mushroom-colored, knit top that was one of the few articles of clothing that I’d bought in semi-recent times (which was to say, over a year ago) that Brad commented on, telling me I looked good in it (before he led me to our bed and took it off). It fit well, even a bit tight, had an empire seam under my breasts, a shelf bra that worked wonders against gravity, a deep vee that exposed just above a hint of cleavage and it was sleeveless. I’d parted my hair to the side, plaited it in soft French braids down both sides and secured it at the back with a big, oval tortoiseshell clip. I’d put in medium-hoop silver earrings that had a row of red beads dangling from the bottom and a wide, stretchy bracelet that was also beaded in different shades of red and brown. I’d also put on my brown sandals that had a short, but cute, heel that I thought did wonders for my calves, crisscross thin straps at the toe and a matching wraparound strap at the ankle.

  I was lucky in one respect, I might be carrying extra weight but my legs and calves were impervious. Even slightly heavy, they were so well formed, they always looked good – this I got from my mother’s side of the family, bless her.

  I started toward the office and didn’t make it when three men emerged from one of the two big, double bays in which there were a bunch of cars and bikes being worked on.

  I stopped, waited and two of the three men glanced at the front runner, a close-cropped-black-haired man who had a thick goatee with a hint of gray in it and a solid body (great arms with lots of interesting-looking tattoos). He looked to be a few inches taller than me even in my mini-heels. He was wearing a white t-shirt, faded jeans and motorcycle boots and all (but the boots, but what did I know, they were black, they could be) were stained with black smears of grease.

  “Hey,” he said when he was several feet away, his hands held a cloth that was also white with black smears and he was adding to the stains as he twisted it around his fingers. “Can I help you?”

  I started toward him and met him halfway with a smile.

  “Hi, that’s my car.” I twisted and pointed at my black Lexus, seeing across the forecourt that both Tate and the man he was talking to had their eyes on me. Therefore I twisted back to the black-haired man. “I need some work done.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked

  “Nothing, I’ve just been on the road awhile. I need an oil change, maybe a tune up, the tires rotated and it’d be cool to get it detailed. Do you do that?”

  He grinned at me and I noticed he had nice white teeth that seemed whiter against his goatee and tan face.

  “Yep,” he answered and I smiled back at him.

  “Great, how long will it take?”

  “We’re covered,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the mess of vehicles in the bays and then back at me. “Shop’s closed on Sunday. It’ll probably be late Monday.”

  I bit my lip since I needed my car to go to Sunny and Shambles’s house that night.

  He saw me biting my lip and asked, “You need a loaner?”

  “You do that?”

  “No,” he replied and I couldn’t help it, I blinked.

  “Then, um…”

  He interrupted my mumbling. “Find one for you, though.”

  I blinked again, surprised.

  “Really?”

  He grinned again. “Yep.”

  “Okay, that’d be nice. I’ll, uh… pay extra if you like.”

  “Not necessary,” he said. “You draw down the tank, just fill it up before you return it. That good?”

  I smiled at him. “Yeah, that’s great. Very nice of you.”

  “Not nice,” he replied.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m not nice,” he repeated.

  I tipped my head to the side. “You seem nice to me.”

  “It’d be nice, I was doin’ this just to do it. I’m not doin’ it just to do it. I’m doin’ it so you’ll owe me.”

  I blinked again and righted my head.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “Like the idea that you’d owe me.”

  “Oh,” I whispered because I really didn’t know what else to say to that odd and vaguely scary (but also vaguely exciting) remark.

  He stuck out a big, strong, attractive hand that had black grease stains edging his fingernails. “I’m Wood.”

  I took his hand and his fingers closed around mine, not shaking it, just holding it strong and tight and not letting go.

  “I’m Lauren,” I said softly because he was kind of freaking me out.

  “Pretty name,” he muttered, his black eyes not leaving mine, “suits you.”

  “Thanks.” I was still talking soft.

  “You new to town?” he asked, not dropping my hand.

  “Yes,” I answered, wondering if I should but not stopping myself or pulling my hand away.

  “Where you from?” he asked.

  “Um… Phoenix, kind of. I grew up in Indiana though.”

  “What’re you doin’ in Carnal?”

  I shrugged even though he still had hold of my hand and I kept talking even though I didn’t know if I should. “Found myself roaming, roamed here, liked it and stayed.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, at the same time giving my hand a gentle tug so I had to take a half a step toward him.

  When he stopped laughing he dipped his chin and looked in my eyes again.

  “Roamed to Carnal, liked it and stayed. You crazy?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Think you are, you just don’t know it.”

  “Um… can you let go of my hand?” I whispered.

  “No,” he whispered back and I felt my heartbeat speed up.

  “Ace,” I heard Tate call and I twisted my head to see him striding up to us, his long legs eating the distance, the gray-haired man he was with struggling to keep up.

  “Tate, hey,” I said to him, tugged at my hand and luckily Wood let it go.

  “Ace?” Wood asked and I turned back to him.

  “Um… Tate’s nickname for me,” I said and Wood’s face got a little scary.

  “Tate’s nickname?” he asked as Tate stopped somewhat close to my side.

  “She’s mine,” Tate announced, my body gave a little jerk at his curiously proprietary words and my head twisted fast to look up at him.

  “Yours?” Wood asked and his voice was now a little scary.

  “I work for him,” I explained and watched Wood’s face and body relax.

  “Ah,” he murmured, crossed his arms on his chest and his mouth twitched.

  “You got car troubles?” Tate asked me, ignoring Wood.

  “She needs an oil change a
nd a detail,” Wood answered for me, not ignoring Tate, then he looked at the gray-haired man. “I’m givin’ her the ‘Stang as a loaner.”

  The gray-haired man’s bushy eyebrows went straight to his hairline and I felt Tate go tense at my side.

  “You’re givin’ her the ‘Stang as a loaner for an oil change?” the gray-haired man asked, clearly surprised.

  “Yep,” Wood answered casually.

  “Shee-it,” the gray-haired man muttered.

  “Um… I can walk, mostly,” I informed them. “But I have to go to Shambles and Sunny’s tonight so I need a car, just for tonight.”

  “I’ll give you a ride on my bike,” Tate offered and my head twisted again, and again it was fast, and I did this just so I could stare at him.

  Then I said, “That isn’t necessary.”

  “When you gotta be there?” Tate asked.

  Before I could decline, Wood spoke. “She’s gettin’ the ‘Stang.”

  Tate’s eyes sliced to Wood and he returned, “I got her.”

  “We already made the deal,” Wood replied.

  “I got her,” Tate repeated.

  “Um…” I mumbled, Tate’s gaze sliced to me and at the look in his eyes I clamped my mouth shut.

  “You’re on my bike,” he growled.

  “She’s in the ‘Stang,” Wood growled back and Tate looked back at him and I could swear, for some reason, if anyone moved it would set them off and they’d jump and rip each other’s throats’ out.

  “Flower Petal!” I heard, I braced for mayhem but turned to see Shambles, his long hair flying out behind him, his blue-tinted, round glasses on his nose, he was carrying a plate with a napkin on it and what looked like pieces of bread and he was running toward us.

  “Hey Shambles,” I called.

  He skidded to a halt at our grouping and smiled at me, oblivious to the bizarre tension that was curling insidiously through the air.

  “You didn’t come for coffee today,” Shambles accused good-naturedly.

  “That’s my next stop,” I told him.

  “Groovintude!” he shouted.

  “Is that your banana bread?” I motioned to the plate with my head.

  “Yeah!” he yelled. “Been wanderin’ the sidewalk all mornin’ handin’ it out. Like, five people took a bite and then walked right to the shop to get themselves a slice. You… are… genius!” Shambles answered on another yell.

  “Great,” I smiled at him then pulled in breath, turned to the boys and declared, “That banana bread is the best you’ll ever eat and you can get it right down the street.”

  I saw all the men were staring at Shambles like they didn’t know what to make of him but what they were coming up with they didn’t like all that much.

  Then Shambles looked around the forecourt and his eyes came to me.

  “You got car troubles?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered quickly before anyone else could say anything. “Just need an oil change and stuff. Though, my car’ll be here for awhile.”

  “Okay, that’s groovy, Sunny and I’ll swing by the hotel and pick you up before we go home. You come up early, you can help me smush chick peas for the hummus.”

  Thank God for Shambles, unexpected but welcome problem-solver.

  “That’s perfect,” I told him.

  “Awesome!” he cried. “Be at your place at five-ish.”

  “See you then,” I said and he looked at the guys and stuck his plate to them.

  “Bread?” he asked.

  “Pass,” Tate growled, glaring at Shambles.

  “No,” Wood growled, also glaring at Shambles.

  “I’ll take a piece,” the gray-haired man said and then took a piece, popped it in his mouth and chewed while Shambles watched.

  “Well?” Shambles asked.

  The gray-haired man looked at me and stated, “You’re right, sweetheart, that shit’s great.”

  “Right on!” Shambles yelled.

  “You should taste his coffee,” I said to the gray-haired man, “heaven.”

  “May do that,” he mumbled as Tate and Wood remained staunchly silent.

  “Speakin’ a’ that, Flower Petal, you haven’t had your fix,” Shambles put in.

  “Oh, right, yeah,” I muttered then turned to Wood and held out my keys. “I’ll be back on Monday?”

  “Need your number,” Wood replied, taking my keys and Tate got tense at my side again.

  “My number?” I asked, forcing my eyes to stay on Wood.

  “Yeah, baby, need it if we find somethin’ you need to know about,” Wood replied, he wasn’t tense and his voice had gone gentle and him calling me baby in that gentle voice, I had to admit, I liked.

  “I don’t have a number,” I told him. “I’m at the hotel.”

  “Ace,” Tate bit off quietly and I looked at him to see, for some reason, he was shaking his head.

  “You don’t have a cell?” Wood asked and I looked at him.

  “Well, I do, it just isn’t charged and has a Phoenix number. I haven’t charged it in four months.”

  All the men stared at me, including Shambles, but it was Tate who spoke.

  “Babe, what in the fuck are you thinking?”

  I looked up at him and saw that, just like anytime I was around Tate, I’d done something to piss him off.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “Jesus, honest to God, are you insane?” Tate asked.

  “Why?” I snapped, because, just like anytime I was around Tate, he did something to piss me off.

  “A woman alone without a goddamned phone?” Tate went on.

  “Yes, so?”

  Tate turned fully to me and got closer. “So?”

  “So?” I repeated.

  He looked over my head and muttered, “Christ almighty.” Then his eyes came back to mine. “You got a death wish?”

  I put my hand to my hip and asked acidly, “Captain, tell me, how does me not having a cell phone translate into me having a death wish?”

  “It ain’t safe,” he answered.

  “I’m standing here breathing, aren’t I?” I shot back.

  “Way you’re goin’, Ace, I give you a month,” he returned.

  “I can take care of myself,” I snapped.

  “You aren’t in suburbia anymore, babe,” he informed me.

  “Yeah, I’m not,” I retorted and leaned into him. “Duh!”

  Tate’s face turned to stone.

  It would seem, considering I continued to speak regardless of Tate’s stony expression, that I might have a death wish.

  “Jeez, Captain, it’s a town filled with bikers, not Viking marauders!”

  That’s when I watched Tate’s face turn to granite.

  “Uh… Flower Petal,” Shambles edged close and took my hand, “maybe we should get you some coffee.”

  I didn’t pry my eyes away from Tate’s furious ones as I spoke to Shambles. “That sounds great.”

  Shambles tugged at my hand and I continued glaring at Tate and he continued scowling at me as I walked two steps away. Then I looked to Wood and said, “Thanks, Wood. Lovely to meet you.”

  Wood was looking at Tate but when I spoke to him his eyes came to mine, he smiled slow and he muttered, “Yeah, Lauren.”

  “Bye,” I said to the gray-haired guy I hadn’t been introduced to.

  “Later, sweetheart,” he replied.

  Then I turned away and walked with Shambles out of the forecourt and turned with him on the sidewalk.

  It didn’t occur to me until way later that Shambles and I held hands all the way to his shop.

  * * * * *

  Sunny and Shambles drove an old VW van and lived in a log cabin that was powered by two windmills. Every piece of land surrounding their cabin either had newly planted flowers or vegetables planted in it and they had a fledgling grape arbor. They told me they turned on the hot water heater half an hour before they needed hot water and turned it off when they were done. And we ate on the floor becau
se most of their furniture was big pillows or bean bags.

  They were also immensely kind, extraordinarily generous and Shambles had a gift in the kitchen – and not just with baked goods.

  When I told them about my journey to Carnal, they both nodded as if in complete understanding.

  Then Sunny said, “We so get that, Petal. That’s how we both felt the minute we drove into town.”

  “It wasn’t anything,” Shambles went on. “It was just this feeling, this strong feeling, we both had it and it just screamed, here!”

  “So we stayed here,” Sunny finished on a sweet smile, leaned forward, took my hand and squeezed.

  They drove me home and, full of their good food and the homemade wine they brought from Austin, Texas where they used to live, I fell right to sleep.

  But I woke up in the middle of night, as usual, but it wasn’t because I heard Tate saying I was fat and old. It was hearing his deep voice saying, “She’s mine.”

  Tossing and turning and not able to get to sleep, I got up, booted up my laptop and sent my parents and sister another e-mail, telling them I thought I’d found my new home and telling them a little bit about Ned and Betty, Jim-Billy and Sunny and Shambles.

  Still not sleepy after I sent my e-mail, I got up and looked out my window to the parking lot. There were two Harleys, an SUV and an old station wagon in the lot.

  It was after three in the morning but I figured most people didn’t sleep light like me and swimming wasn’t loud so they wouldn’t hear me. I changed into my suit and went to the pool, slid in quietly and did my laps. I was getting better mostly because I was pushing myself not to take breaks, just to go slower and keep on going. I eeked out fifty laps with only two rest periods and then pulled myself out of the pool.

  When I did, I heard a Harley idling somewhat close but that wasn’t unusual in Carnal so I didn’t even look. I just toweled off, pulled on my sweatpants, wrapped the towel around my hair, grabbed my flip-flops and sweatshirt and ran-walked to my room.