Page 5 of Brick

She smiled at Brick’s assertion. “Yeah, he is.”

Brick felt sucker-punched by the happy grin Betsey gifted to him. Underneath that subdued exterior was a warm and vibrant woman, ready to be freed. His attraction to her hadn’t dimmed over the years; it had gotten even stronger. She stood close enough to him that he could see subtle red highlights in her brown hair and smell her clean scent under the layer of diner grease. His groin tightened in response to having the woman he had wanted for so long within his reach. He didn’t stop to think about it as he cupped her unmarred cheek and pressed his lips to hers.

If she had pulled back, he would have stopped and walked away. Instead, she jumped in surprise and froze. Brick molded her mouth to his, and she tentatively relaxed and let him inside. Sweeter than sugar, his brain said before all his blood rushed south into the biggest, hardest boner he’d ever had. He was careful to hold himself away from her, fighting the urge to grind into her softness. Her movements were awkward, and he wondered if this was her first kiss.

He finally ended it, pulling back slowly. Her face was flushed and her breath was choppy. “I… I… I gotta get back to work. I… um….”

She ran two steps before turning and slamming into him, kissing him back, hard and quick. Then she disappeared into the kitchen without another glance back.

Brick stood stock-still, his cock still hard and the sweet taste of Betsey in his mouth. He wanted to run after her, to claim her as his and make the world a safe place for her. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not while he was still prospecting and earning his place in the club. Not while he had nothing real to offer her.

One day,he vowed. One day.

* * *

Betsey hurriedinto the cramped kitchen, hoping the heat from the flat grills and oil fryers would disguise the flush in her face. Hopefully the handprint would fade as well and not leave a bruise. Most of the time, her father left the bruises where no one would see. She supposed seeing constant black eyes or cut lips on the preacher’s wife and daughter wouldn’t be tolerable to his flock of churchgoers, but as long as he hid the abuse, it was okay. He never touched the younger kids, just his wife and Betsey.

Brick’s face flashed across her eyes and her stomach tightened up. When he spoke of his club, something resounded in her. “We ride free an’ easy, watchin’ out for each other no matter what. They got my back, and I got theirs. I can call out and have a band of brothers at my back in two seconds flat.”

Riding free. Watching out for each other. Family and a sense of belonging were things Betsey craved more than air. Her mother barely acknowledged her existence, and her father ignored her completely these days until he needed her tip money. She reached a finger up to her lips where Brick had kissed her. She’d watched the russet-haired boy grow into a man and never thought she would see the day when he would ever have an interest in the preacher’s plain daughter. Over the years, she had spent many nights dreaming of what it would be like for the handsome biker to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. It was probably a fluke, but when Brick stood up and defended her to the reverend, a thrill zipped through her heart. A feeling so new it was scary. A feeling that someone cared. A feeling she wasn’t alone. A feeling she had a place in the world. A feeling she wanted to save and bottle so she could keep it forever.

“Order up, Betsey! Get this damn cheeseburger plate out to that fool before he causes any more trouble.”

The bellow from Moses, the owner and fry cook, got her moving. She was sure Deuce would stiff her on the tip, but she would survive.

The night took forever, but at last the doors closed, and she and Moses could clean up and go home.

“You gonna be awright walkin’?”

Betsey smiled at the older man’s question, the same one he asked every night she worked late, and she repeated the same answer she always gave him. “No one is gonna mess with a minister’s daughter. Too afraid of hellfire and damnation rainin’ down on ’em. I’ll be jus’ fine. You get on home.”

Moses grunted something about teenage girls before handing her a folded piece of paper. “Jus’ wanted to give you somethin’ nice to say I ’preciate you comin’ to work tonight ’stead of playin’ ’round with your friends. Been around a long time, an’ you’re one of the few people who treat me with respect and do right by me. I reckon you got plans with your life, but you always gotta place here.”

Betsey opened the piece of paper, read the crudely drawn word congradoolashuns and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Her smile deepened, and she hugged the old man. “Thank you, Moses. I love you so much.”

The man harrumphed. “Don’t get all mushy, girl. You still gotta clean out the fryer an’ mop ’fore you can go home.”

Betsey grinned the entire time she pushed the wet bundle of strings across the tiled floor. Ten dollars was a lot of money, and since her father had already taken her tips, this windfall was hers. She finished up and got ready to go home. Moses locked the door and left, walking back through a path in the wood that led to his trailer.

Betsey dumped the mop bucket behind the diner and set it upside down next to the back door. She arched her back, stretching the tight muscles and hearing the cracks as her spine relaxed. The job was hard physically, but she was used to long hours of being on her feet with constant work. Stars winked in the clear night sky, and she raised her hands over her head, pretending to reach for them. It was her favorite fantasy that someday, she could pull one down and keep it in her pocket. A light laugh fell from her lips as the next thought featured her father holding his hand out for her to give it to him.

A low rumble in the distance caught her ear. The noise got louder as the vehicle came closer, and a single beam of light cut through the darkness. Fear clenched up her stomach as the outline of a large black bike and rider appeared around the corner. She froze in the bright light of the headlamp.

The rider shut off the engine and pulled off a shallow helmet.

“Hey, Betsey.”

Her relief was tangible when she realized it was Brick straddling the massive machine.

“Lord have mercy, Brick, you scared me some. No one comes to the diner this late. You know it’s already closed.”

Brick fingered the straps on the helmet and kept his eyes down. “Sorry ’bout that. I didn’t mean to.”

Crickets filled the silence with their twittering sounds. Betsey stood awkwardly, wondering what to say or do. She’d never been on a date or even talked much with boys in school. The kiss Brick gifted her earlier was the first one she’d ever had, and it was still on her mind. She didn’t know what to do. Suspense floated in the air.

Brick cleared his throat. “Thought I’d come by and give you a ride home. That is, if you want it.”

She blinked. Ride with him? “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. I don’t know how.”

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