Page 101 of Geordie

“There will be time when she gets back. She keeps asking about you and wants to know when you can play princesses again.”

I think about our tea parties and it makes me feel better. Spending an afternoon with Emmy might pull me out of this funk.

“Meet me at the course in two hours?” William asks.

It's just the two of us, and we’re tearing through the hills in Hollister. Without the pressure of being filmed for social media or two CEOs in our party as part of the mix, there's less competition to show who's the most skilled.

We ride to our limits, avoiding stunts or unnecessary chances. The crisp air, riding deep into the woods, is what I need to put my anxieties away for a few hours. It's all over too soon when we coast our bikes into the parking lot, stopping next to our trucks. William pulls off his helmet, raking his fingers through his mop of black hair. “I'm a man without responsibilities today,” he grins. “Why don't we grab some beers and dinner?”

This feels like normal, more normal than it's been in weeks. I pull off my helmet and remove my gloves. “Sounds good. Where do you want to go?”

We end up at The Last Stop, a country bar on the edge of Main Street. It’s a dark bar lit up by neon advertising signs and lively music is coming from a jukebox. Waitresses in tight T-shirts, shorts, and boots are wearing cowboy hats perched back on their heads.

We take our places at a table among loud and some noticeably drunk patrons. A waitress saunters over, a round black tray tucked under her arm. She places the flat of her hand on our table, eyeing William. “Hey there, Billy, it's good to see you back.” She turns her smile to me, flipping long strands of her red hair off her shoulder, her breasts peeking out of the V of her T-shirt. “And who is this big, handsome gentleman?”

“This is Geordie. We just came back from riding.”

She narrows her eyes, giving me a hard stare, her pink lips inching into a half grin. “I've never seen you in here before; I would have remembered. What can I get you from the bar?”

I glance at William, about to ask if I can buy a round of his usual.

She keeps her gaze on me but chucks her chin at William. “I already know what this cowboy wants. He can't have it, but I'll get him a beer instead.”

I throw my head back, bellowing out a laugh that threatens to topple me to the floor. As tears wet my eyes, I promise myself this woman will get a hefty tip at the end of the evening. “I'll have the best whiskey you have, two if Billy…” I use the nickname she's given to William, “will drink with me,” I cough out.

“I'll never pass up the offer of an excellent whiskey,” William says, throwing a grin at the waitress. “Tell the cook we want two burgers with everything on them and don't skimp on the meat.”

“Then bring the bottle instead with two glasses. And, lass, what's your name?”

“Lacey,” she says, giving me a saucy, green-eyed wink, then she heads to the bar, swaying her lovely hips to the music.

We take hardy bites of medium-rare burgers, the house special. I continue to drink, sloshing whiskey in my glass as we talk about everything except about the past few weeks. Mid-way through the meal, William isn't keeping up with me. He's switched to water without a reason. It's not a concern. Hard liquor will hit you quicker if you weren't brought up on it. This is still the best I've felt in a long time.

William keeps me entertained with stories of other bike rides, and me adding my own adventures, but every time I look away from the conversation, I catch Lacey's gaze on me, and I think it would be nice to be tucked up with a woman who wants nothing more than my body for a night.

The evening winds down with less noise and fewer patrons in the bar. We've gotten to almost closing without me realizing it.

William is watching me down the last of the bottle. “I don't think you're in a condition to drive. Why don't you crash at my place tonight?”

I've drunk beyond my limit again, a recent habit I should break. I scratch my beard, thinking of a solution. “I don't want to leave my truck.”

“Don't worry about your truck, man. My brother owns this bar. Hand him the keys and he'll lock it up tight in his garage.”

I sneak a look at the redhead who's been serving us all evening. “Are you related to the beautiful Lacey?” I’m slurring my words just a wee bit.

“You like her, huh? I thought you would.” He shakes his head, flashing a smile at her. “Hell no, we're not related. I've known Lacey Jane since we were in junior high, and I admit, I've been trying to get into her panties ever since. I think I'm wearing her down, but I don't mind if you take a shot.”

She smiles at me and for the tenth time, I think it would be nice to share a bed with her tonight. A thought of Lily drifts into my mind, the dark-haired beauty that was to be the mother of my child. Why do I hesitate? The one attachment we have is severed. She's not my wife or girlfriend, and I doubt she would care. That may be so, but I can't move forward until I'm certain that part of my life is finished. I don't want to disappoint another woman. “Thank you, maybe another time.”

William drops a load of bedding on the couch next to me as I pull off my boots, each thumping on the ground. I stretch out my legs, easing out the tightness.

“If you need more, I've got extras in the hall closet.”

“Thanks, that should be fine.”

He plops down in a chair, staring at me as he taps his fingers on the armrest. It's an uncomfortable scrutiny, like he wants to say something but doesn't know how to start. I don't think I can go through another round of “buck up, laddie, you've got to be strong.”

He blows out a breath through his teeth and I steel myself for what's coming. “I know this is a tough time for you, and I'm not just talking out of my ass here. My ex and I went through a miscarriage at fifteen weeks, and we'd already had Emmy. It was the most brutal thing I had to face in my life. We tried, but our marriage didn't survive because of it.”

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