Page 38 of Rolling Thunder

Canyon Bill was restoring the old trailer across the pasture. Even if he didn’t stay, he might leave it in good enough shape to be rented for income and it was a step closer to righting the mess she’d made by paying for her mother’s failed rehab.

Canyon Bill was still here. Evan was still here.

Her phone dinged. Presumably because she’d googled Evan, she now seemed to get notifications whenever he was in the gossip news. This ding notified her of a breaking interview about his past. Too curious not to watch it, she clicked on the video that popped up.

He was dressed in a tight black shirt that outlined his muscles, but with long sleeves that hid his tattoos. His dark lashes outlined his blue eyes, making them look as intense as she’d ever seen them. They nearly took her breath away.

“The court records speak for themselves,” he said.

“But you did serve three years in prison,” the interviewer pressed. A flash of irritation crossed his face.

“Before I was exonerated and released, yes.”

“And for our viewers who don’t know, all this came up when Evan and his partner, Dan Pelletier, became popular on a new Home Improvement show, Beachfront Salvage, where they restore houses in Florida that were damaged by Hurricane Ian. If you had nothing to hide, Evan, why did you change your name?”

He leveled a piercing stare at her. Kayla clicked off the video. She felt torn. She knew liars, and when Evan talked, she felt it was the truth. Somehow, though, watching this interview felt like spying. She wanted him to tell her to her face what had happened. She didn’t want to see the polished, edited version of it on YouTube.

So she texted him, asking if he would take her for a ride that evening. She waited for him to pick her up feeling hopeful, feeling almost…peaceful. A text dinged on her phone, and she glanced at it, expecting Evan’s reply.

We need you tomorrow night. Trent.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly scratchy. Her skin prickled with sweat as she texted her reply.

Sorry, I can’t.

It was now or never.

EVAN

She stood waiting for him outside her gate, but as Evan rolled up, she looked up from her phone, startled.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, trying to shake it off. “Yeah, let’s go,” she replied tightly, swinging onto the back of his bike.

What the hell? Why was this girl still keeping secrets from him? Her smile at the rodeo had stolen his heart. She was happy, even carefree. Now, she was haunted once again.

He rode her out to the same spot where they’d watched the sunset before.

“I saw a little of your interview,” she confessed. He glanced at her. “Why relocate out to the swamp?”

“When I got out, I wasn’t in the Pirates’ good graces. I was couch-surfing at Dan’s beach house. So, I came out to start over.” She watched him solemnly, but, most importantly, like she understood.

“I get it. Sometimes I think I could use a new identity too,” she said cryptically. She didn’t ask him about the money. She never asked him how much settlement money he’d gotten, like the gold-digger biker tramps who hounded him when he got released. She just understood why he needed to start over. She didn’t ask how much he made from the TV show. She didn’t even let him pay for her drinks when he took her out.

Her phone dinged for the third time, and she paled a little more each time she silenced it. “Let’s go get a drink,” she suggested. He obliged her, and they cruised over to the Sleepy Tiki at the edge of the bridge, where she proceeded to slam several shots in a row.

“What are you trying to drink your way out of?” he asked her quietly, sipping his beer. Her eyes cut at him, exposed, caught. But she quickly glanced away as if she thought he could read the answers there. She stared at the empty shot glass in front of her and shook her head slightly. Instead of answering, she ordered another.

“I saw your stuff,” she said suddenly, abruptly trying to steer the conversation away from herself.

“What stuff?”

“The day you sent me to get Abbey at your house. She dragged me into your barn to get a chew toy she’d left in there and I saw all your bikes and cars.”

She looked at him sideways, guilty, wary. “I was afraid it was dirty money.”

Nice subject change, he thought.

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