c4

"It is," he agreed. "I could tell pretty quick."
"So, I'm through with all that. No more looking. I'm resigned."
"Resigned?" he echoed.
She took a breath. "I guess if it happens along, fine. But the next one is going to have to hit me over the head with a club and drag me away—I won't be looking, hoping, wanting that so much. That last little mishap of mine really got my attention. Whew. That was scary. I think on some level I must have known he was a phony. There was just something about him that didn't add up. I didn't know him well enough, but he looked good on paper, as we girls like to say."
"On paper?" Walt asked, frowning.
She sighed. "He said he worked for the fire department and I've come to trust the fire department. He was polite, decent-looking, had a good-paying job, filled the basic criteria. I've always skimmed the surface. Maybe I moved too fast because it was so important to have…" She didn't finish; it was embarrassing how much she'd always wanted a man in her life, a family of her own. "So, that part of my life is over. I've been going about this all wrong. It's time to focus on my life, my independent life. After all, it's not a bad life."
"I like that idea. But what convinced you to take a chance on me? On a motorcycle, yet?" he asked.
"You're different," she said, putting a hand on his forearm, right on the naked lady. "You've turned into a pretty good friend. You helped me out of a tight spot, your brother's P.D. and I know you understand why I'm not interested in more than friendship."
"Just out of curiosity, what've you been looking for? In a guy."
"I don't know," she said. "Somebody permanent. Reliable. Trustworthy." Then she grinned and added. "Good-looking, decent future, wants kids, adores me…" But in the back of her mind a little voice taunted, Male and breathing…
"Very reasonable," he said, smiling.
"I always had a rule about men—and I ignored it over and over again. If he's nice to you but mean to the waiter, he's not a nice person."
"Huh?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"There are lots of people who can be nice when they want to be, when they're after something. But at some point their true colors come out—when they're getting a haircut, ordering a meal, having the car washed. When they snip and pick and criticize and…well, you know." Uh-oh, she suddenly thought—Walt is nice to the waiter, nice to everyone. But no…she liked Walt, but not in that way.
"Yeah. I know," he said.
"So, I ignored the rule. I'd see a sign and blow right through it, hoping a relationship would work. It usually didn't take long for the guy to treat me just as bad—no returned calls, I became invisible…and my heart would be in pieces, over and over. I'm all done doing that. First, I'm not dating, period. Second, if I ever dip into the market again, I'm going to be very careful and pay better attention."
"You ought to," he said. "You should have the best, that's all."
"Right," she agreed. She realized that there was something about Walt; she kept telling him things she didn't tell anyone other than Julie, not even her other girlfriends. "So what's your story?" she asked.
"My story?" he repeated.
"With women? Been serious? Engaged? Have a million broken hearts in your past like me? What?"
He just laughed. "Cassie, I hardly ever date. I stay busy with the bikes, the stores. I mean, in the grand scheme of things what I do isn't much, but it can tie up a lot of hours every day, every week. There have been one or two women I kind of rode with a time or two…"
"When you say you rode with them, is that biker talk for slept with them?"
"Actually, that's biker talk for taking a bike ride together."
"Oh," she said, laughing. "So. You're a virgin?"
"It's not as bleak as that. But there's no one. I guess I'm in the same place as you—nothing turned up and I quit looking. I really love what I do. I'm real happy. It's a pretty simple life, but it works for me."
Oh, she thought, he's good for me. I want to be in exactly that place.
He drank a little coffee and looked out over the hills. Then he turned back to her. "You watching the time?" he asked.
"Nah. I'm fine."
"If you're not in a hurry, there are vineyards in the valley. Tasting rooms and restaurants. You're probably not hungry yet, but you might be later."
"You're going to feed me till I'm big as that bull!"
"Not a chance. And anyway, even if you got big as that bull, you'd still be beautiful." He pulled himself up to his feet. "You ready?"
"Ready," she said, putting her hand in his so he could help her up.
She got back on the bike; they went higher into the hills where the views were even more majestic, stopped a few times, then started a slow and frightening descent. But Cassie wasn't nervous about the altitude or the fact that she was on the back of a bike. She loved hanging on to Walt because he was so solid, so big. It made her feel anchored. He made her feel safe.
They stopped in the valley, visited a couple of vineyards where Cassie tasted some wine and Walt insisted on buying her two bottles. They finally wound up at a nice, quiet, elegant vineyard restaurant that they entered in dusty jeans, all road worn and wind beaten. Walt was greeted as if he was a preferred client. "But I thought you'd given up drinking?" she asked him. "The wine here has alcohol in it, you know."
"I have an occasional drink or glass of wine, maybe a beer," he said. "I didn't mean to mislead you about that—I knocked off for a few years. I don't think I'm in any danger of overdoing it again. I never drink alcohol when I'm riding. If I'm driving my truck, I might have something with a meal and a coffee chaser. I'm a lot more careful now. I was lucky—never had a bad accident. It wasn't just about drinking too much, Cassie. I took a lot of stupid chances back then. But like I said, I took a hint."
"And you've obviously been here before."
"Several times," he said. "I'll get a couple of good bottles for the folks. They like that."
"What do your folks do?" she asked.
"Well, my dad's involved in different businesses now. He started out as a grocer and my mom was a special ed teacher and over time they started buying rental houses, which ended up being a good investment for them. California real estate was out of sight when they started selling. If I bring 'em a couple bottles of good wine, they love it. You keeping track of your schedule?" he asked for at least the fifth time.
"I think I'm a no-show at Julie's," she said. "No big deal. They don't keep tabs on me. I'd rather have dinner here."
"They won't worry?" he asked.
"Nah. Like I said, I'm welcome any time I'm free. And guess what? I'm totally exhausted."
"Told you," he said. "It's not like exercise, but it sure feels like it at the end of the day."
"I guess I can see why you love it. It's very freeing. Exhilarating."
He smiled. "Your cheeks are awful pink."
"Might be the wine," she said.
"Might be the wine and the ride," he said.
"I've noticed something about you," she said. "The first night I saw you, you looked so scary I wasn't sure which one of you guys to run from. Your arms were crossed over your chest, you had this terrifying scowl on your face…"
"I think I've perfected that," he acknowledged with a chuckle.
"But you haven't looked like that since. Your face is…open. Kind. Very sweet. Everyone likes you, feels comfortable around you."
He reached across the table and held her hand. "Cassie, I didn't want any trouble with that guy. It just looked like you needed some help. That was wrong."
"So it was an act?"
He lifted his hand, still in a cast. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I could've been mean. It's not my first choice."
She laughed. "You're at least two people," she said.
"I'm just one guy, Cassie. I just happen to be multipurpose."
After dinner, riding home in the dark was amazing, with the lights of the city welcoming them, drawing them closer. Cassie actually hated it when they left the back roads and got on the freeway, becoming nothing but commuters again as opposed to adventurers. Too soon they were pulling into her neighborhood. She was spent—full on good food, windburned, tired to the bone.
Cassie realized she might have stumbled into something fantastic—a best friend of the male persuasion. Like a girlfriend in a great big man suit. Being with him was a little like coming home. He felt like family, like a best buddy. For once she was trusting someone she knew in her gut was absolutely trustworthy. She hadn't looked at his résumé before going off for a day with him on a bike, but she knew he didn't look that good on paper. He wasn't her type, he didn't have a good job, he wasn't great-looking and he hadn't been searching for the right woman.
He walked her to her door and she slipped off the jacket, handing it back to him. "Will you sell this as a used garment now?" she asked.
"Why don't you keep it handy for our next ride?"
"Walt, this is very expensive," she informed him again.
"Looks real good on you, too," he said. "You should really have it, but I think I can get a couple more rides out of it first."
"You're totally nuts," she laughed. "You don't give out things like this on a motorcycle mechanic's salary."
"I might sell you a bike, get a commission," he said. He grinned at her and she found herself thinking she hadn't seen such a warm and wonderful smile in all her looking, all her prowling. When he smiled like that and his blue eyes twinkled, he wasn't that bad-looking. "It'll guilt you into a couple more rides," he said. "I had a good day, Cassie."
"I did, too," she said. "It was fun. I never expected it to be so…nice."
He never took the jacket. He handed her the two bottles of wine and, while her arms were full, he put a big hand on her waist, right on her love handle, pulled her closer, leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers. She let him do this without once remembering she wasn't interested. The feel of him, smell of him, taste of him was very agreeable and she leaned against him, slowly exhaling as he kissed her. But he didn't take too much of her. Just a brief, delightful kiss, then he pulled back.
"Just friends," she said in a whisper.
"Nothing like a friendly little kiss," he said.
"I can't be friends with you if you're getting ideas…."
"Don't worry about that, Cassie. You're in charge. And we get along pretty well. I'll call." He turned away from her. She still held the jacket and wine as he walked down her drive to his bike. As he drove away, she cuddled the wine and the jacket close to her chest.