Page 20 of Riding Rough

“I don’t know why this shit is so hard to talk about.”

What the hell is this dude going to say? Maybe the ballerina thing isn’t too far off… not that I’m judging.

I glance up at the giant biker, wondering what in the world could be so hard to say out loud. “The good thing is, I’m kind of a stranger so I have no stock at all in anything you say. I mean, I’m sure I’m going to get all kinds of confessions sitting here. Henry… you know Henry, right? He owns the shop. Well, he talks about this woman who traveled all the way from Germany for a tattoo from him… and she told him she’d buried her husband under the barn.”

Diesel finally looks toward me.

“So, your dreams can’t be that bad.” I clear my throat. “But if you have a wife that you’re desperate to bury, please keep it to yourself.” I laugh and refocus on the art.

“Nah. She died years ago.”

“Damn.” My stomach turns. I’m such an idiot. “That’s right. I’m so sorry. I just got carried away in the story.”

“No. You’re fine. It’s been almost fifteen years now.” He sighs. “She’d be kicking me in the ass to move on. She had a good sense of humor and the only wish she ever had was that everyone was happy.”

I stay quiet, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Anyway,” he sighs, “I never moved on. I was busy raising Amber, and then, I don’t know, life got easy alone.”

“So, it sounds like you’re happy on your own. Is the opportunity you’re hoping for is to find someone?”

“Happy is an over statement. I’m looking for that genuine feeling again.” He says the words simple and flat as though it should be easy to find, but he can’t figure out why it’s not.

“Truthfully,” I work on the ink as I talk, “in my experience, it’s all bad news, anyway. Trusting another person to be careful with your heart is like trusting a four-year-old not to stick a fork in a light socket. The pain is going to happen eventually, no matter how much you try to stop it.”

He laughs. I anticipate the shift and lift the gun from his arm. “I’m well aware. That’s why I’ve enjoyed being single. But… the older I get the more I realize how badly I miss the companionship and the shit that goes along with it.”

“Is that a nice way of saying you miss sex?”

His eyes widen. “That too, I guess. I was thinking more mundane things like Sunday morning shopping trips, Friday nights around the fire, and quiet conversations over dinner. But yeah, sex would be nice. It’s been far too long.” He swipes his hand over his face again as though he’s nervous. “I’m telling you too much. It’s your turn. Why did your dad kick you out?”

I draw in a heavy breath and ink the final shadowed spot of the heart on his tattoo, then wipe away the ink. “We’re all finished. I guess we’ll have to chat about me some other time.”

Diesel stares down at the tattoo, his jaw tight. “Not fair. We had a deal.”

“We did. Maybe next time you come back, we’ll have time to talk about me. Turns out, you’re a Chatty Cathy.” I smile sheepishly and toss my gloves in the trash. “Can I get a picture of this for my Instagram? New girl and all, so I could use your MC clout to make me look edgy.”

He stands and smiles, as he towers over me. I realize he’s wearing big boots, but even if they were off, he’d be huge. His heavy arm wraps around mine and flexes until the tattoo I’ve just finished pops, then snaps a selfie of the two of us. “I’m not into all the social media shit but I’ll load this up and tag you.”

A picture of the two of us wasn’t what I had in mind, but I roll with it and pull out some Saniderm, cutting it to size before landing it flat on his new piece.

Every ounce of me wants to resist the urge, but touching his massive arm isn’t something I should take for granted. I spread out the protective covering a few more times than is necessary as I explore every ridge of his muscles and soak in his scent. It’s like the forest mixed with motor parts. Though the whole scene lasted less than five seconds, I’m immediately embarrassed at my actions.

God, what’s wrong with me?This is Amber’s dad!

“You know the drill. Leave it on for a few days, then lotion, antibacterial soap… yada, yada, yada.”

He straightens his shoulders. “Amber really wanted me to check on you. You’d be doing me a huge favor if you let me take you to dinner. We can talk about your situation, and I’ll pay for a few nights stay at a hotel. When the storms pass, you can go back to camping.” He looks away then back again. “She’ll kill me if I don’t do something.”

For a second, I think about dinner with this guy and wonder how that would go. He’s older, but he’s also intriguing. Also, a few nights indoors sound insanely fabulous. I’ve missed warm showers and soft sheets… but it’s too much.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I love the fresh air and I’m planning a nice dinner at the diner. I’ll be good. Thanks, anyway.” I turn away from him and make my way toward the register at the front of the shop.

“Nosey and full of shit.” Diesel doesn’t crack a smile.

He’s not wrong. The thunderstorms have been horrible lately. I hear trees cracking around me all night. As for food, I’ve been surviving on a loaf of bread and some peanut butter.

“This is temporary. I’ll get a few paychecks here and I’ll be right as rain.”

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