Page 16 of Loan Wolf
Clara giggled. “Tempting. Almost as tempting as mudflap calves. But…I know what you mean about owing them. My papa and Miss Patricia moved to a whole new state so I could dance. They drove me to Madison and back every single weekend we lived here. They paid for the best teachers, all the classes. My teachers believed in me, and gave me opportunities. If I gave them up now, I’d be letting everyone down.”
“But you don’t like dancing,” Gabe guessed shrewdly.
“I don’t hate it,” Clara said slowly, organizing her thoughts. “I just thought there could be something more to life.”
“What do you want to do?” Gabe asked. “If that wasn’t a problem, if money was no object, what would you do?”
Clara stared out over the green and gold valley. “This,” she said softly. “Just go places and look at things and not be stared at and told what to do.”
Her stomach, digesting the meager half of an energy bar, gave a growl of protest. “And maybe eating an entire hamburger with a whole plate of fries and a chocolate milkshake.”
“Let’s do it.” Gabe got to his feet and pulled Clara up with him. “Your bike rental runs out in two hours. That gives us just enough time to get back to town and stuff ourselves silly.”
He lowered Clara’s seat and gave her tips for descending. “Don’t squeeze the front brake all at once when you want to slow—you’ll fly right over the front if you do it too quick. Brake ahead, brake with both hands at once, use two fingers on the brake and keep the rest on the handlebars to carry your load. None of these tea-cup fingers with crooked pinkies. Don’t ever lock your knees or your elbows. If you fall, don’t reach out and try to catch yourself. Your shoulder can take it, but your wrist will snap. Remember what I told you about gearing.”
He reached out and tucked loose hair behind her helmet straps. “I’ll go first, watch where I put my tires and don’t ride my ass too close.” He ruined the tender gesture by smacking her ass as he walked to his bike and settled his helmet on his own head.
No one had ever taken such a liberty with Clara, and she absolutely loved it.
15
GABE
Gabe wished he was behind Clara instead of ahead of her, just for the joy of watching her perfect legs and perfect butt. But it would be more distracting than anything, and this way, he could show her the best route, which edge to stay to, which loose rocks to avoid. And if the worst happened, he might break her forward fall.
The descent was steep and hairy in places; he hadn’t been kidding about the difficulty level. The trail wound down over roots and rocks, kissed cliffs, and had free-fall drops in a few places. It forded a stream, crossed a loose gravel scree, and went under tree limbs that had to be ducked. Every time he glanced back, Clara was frowning in concentration but looked strong and balanced on her bike.
She was a natural.
No, she was an athlete.
Dancer’s muscles gave her the core strength to control her bike, and the grace to make it look easy.
Gabe went much faster with her than he would have with any other new sport biker, and when the trail widened and leveled off, she drew up beside him with a triumphant smile. Gabe stopped to draw a swig of water and Clara followed suit. “You said that would be hard,” she smirked.
“Some things were,” Gabe quipped.
It was entirely too much fun to make her blush up to the roots of her hair. She whapped him with the back of her hand and kicked off.
They raced back to town and locked the bikes up in front of one of the newer restaurants in town, Tendy’s. Gabe had made the offer impulsively, and half-hoped that Clara would forget about it, but she led him right there.
“Do you even have to lock up, here?” Clara asked, hanging her helmet off the handlebars and fluffing her hair.
“If I don’t lock, insurance won’t cover it if it’s stolen,” Gabe pointed out, leaving his own helmet on the seat of Aurora. “I read my contract.”
“Very boy scout of you,” Clara said. “I’m starving.”
Gabe hadn’t thought about what they were getting into and his heart sank when he realized that the restaurant was half full. Most of the locals were loyal to Gran’s, even after her death, but there were several familiar faces and a couple tables of tourists.
Gillian, a widowed older woman who hadn’t mastered the art of subtle flirting for years of trying, greeted them and led them to a table. “Can I start you with a drink?”
“Ice water,” Clara said immediately, pulling up the chair across from him. Should Gabe have held it for her? Was this a date?
Gillian gave Gabe a thoughtful look and he realized he hadn’t answered. “Same.” He dropped into his own chair.
“Oh, they have cloth-bound menus,” Clara said, opening hers. “So fancy.”
“I’d think you’d be used to that, New York.” Gabe didn’t eat out much and he’d forgotten how expensive it was. “Get anything you want,” he said anyway.
