Page 38 of Voyeur Café

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Luke’s locking the back door to his shop when I step out into the parking lot to leave for the day.

“You’re heading out early,” he says.

“Happy hour.” I nod in confirmation as I walk over to pet Betty. “You’re leaving early, too. Crashing a bachelorette party?”

He doesn’t respond, so I look up from petting Betty to find him staring down at me. He holds eye contact for a few seconds before asking, “Would it bother you if I was?”

“No, of course not,” I respond too quickly. “Why would it bother me? You can spend time with anyone you want. It’s not my business.”Why am I still talking?

“I’m not meeting up with them.”

“They were attractive.”

“Were they?” he asks, dryly.

“What do you mean?” I stand up from petting Betty, and she leans against my leg. “Of course, they were attractive. You saw them.”

“Didn’t notice.”

“Sure you didn’t.” I roll my eyes.

“I noticed the attractive brunette who was taking my picture.”

Did he just call me attractive?Blush floods from my cheeks down my neck. Hopefully the sun’s too bright in his eyes for him to notice.

I talk to Betty, since apparently, she’s the only sane one in this parking lot. “Good night, sweet girl. Love you,” I say,waving at her as I practically sprint to my car.

“She knows, sweetheart. I did read her your text,” Luke calls out right as I shut my door.

Chapter 16

Luke

“Are you listening? We’ve got a legacy here, kid. Someday this bar will be yours. Pay attention.”-Grandad Ernie, teaching eight-year-old Luke how to run an industrial dishwasher.

Allie has on a dress today. Most days, she wears shorts and tank tops, clothes that are only made special by the privilege of displaying her curvy body. This dress is different. I’ve watched its butter-yellow fabric shift against her thighs all morning as she floats aroundTurbine, chatting up customers and wiping down tables.

Standing on her toes, she does a little hop to get onto a barstool, causing the dress to ride up much higher on her legs.

A throat clears behind me, and I turn around to find Brian standing by my front counter. “Hey, kid,” he says, smiling knowingly.

“Perfect timing,” I say, redirecting his focus from my obvious attention on the girl next door to his bike. “I’ve spent the whole morning with this beauty and got it running.” I pat the singleheadlight of his 1959 BMW R60. Turns out his dad had incredible taste. “You ready to take this bad boy out for a quick ride?”

Brian laughs quietly. “I’ve never actually ridden one myself.” He puts his coffee and a white paper bag on my front counter before crossing over to check out his motorcycle. “I kept it after my dad passed because it felt like keeping a piece of him, but I didn’t know what to do with it after. Guess that’s how it ended up sitting in the garage for decades.”

“I’ve got my grandad’s old BMW, too. I don’t ride it much anymore but seeing it in my garage always makes me feel closer to him.” I grab his key from the lockbox. “Even if you never ride yours, you’ve at least got to hear this motor. It’s fucking beautiful.”

“I’d love to.”

Getting on the bike, I twist the gas, flip the kick starter out, and give it a few solid kicks. The R60 rumbles to life underneath me.Braaap. The sound reverberates off the walls and rumbles around the shop, waking Betty. She lifts her head from where she’s lying on the cool concrete floor, yawns, and settles back into her nap.

I give it a few more good revs,braaap braaapbraaap,watching Brian’s smile widen with each one.

He shakes his head slowly from side to side as I cut the engine and move off the bike. “That’s something I haven’t heard in years,” he says as he stares wistfully at the bike. “Many, many years. Sounds just the same as it did when I was a kid. This is incredible, Luke. You have no idea what you’ve given me just by making it run again,” he finishes, reaching out to shake my hand.

We discuss the details of the remaining work on the R60, and he takes all of my suggestions on the aesthetics, teeing me up for a dream project.

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