KARTER. “It’s the cable that goes between the battery and the starter. It’s got an eyelet on each end, one for the battery post and one for the bolt in the starter.”

“What year?” he asked.

Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve been over this already.

I slapped my hands onto the edge of the counter. I glanced over my shoulder. Jak was wandering the showroom floor looking at the various bikes on display. I bit my lip and tried to keep from making a fool of myself by screaming at the eighteen-year-old incompetent parts salesman. I looked down at his Harley-Davidson logo tattoo on his forearm and his well-manicured fingernails. No doubt he’d never worked on his own Harley, if he even had a Harley.

“1991. Softail. Evo. 1340 cc. Battery cable from the battery to the starter,” I sighed.

He looked at the computer screen and tapped aimlessly at the keys on the keyboard. After a few moments, and without speaking, he turned and walked to the door which led to the warehouse. I stared down at my left hand and contemplated getting knuckle tattoos as I waited for him to return. As I admired my ring in the bright lighting of the store, he returned with a plastic baggy. As he tossed it on the counter, I looked down at the clear plastic wrapper. My initial relief was quickly overcome by anger as I noticed the twelve-inch-long black cable.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked as I nodded toward the baggie, “Someone else’s shit?”

“Battery cable,” he said flatly.

“Battery cable for what?” I asked as I raised the baggie in the air for him to see.

“1991 Softail Evo,” he responded.

You fucking idiot.

“Positive or negative?” I asked.

“Positive.”

I took a deep breath. As much as I didn’t want to make a scene, my voice quickly elevated as I began to speak, “What fucking color is positive? On a car, boat, bike, or even a fucking snowmobile?”

He shrugged, “Red?”

I shook my head, “That’s fucking right. Red. Now dumbass, what color is this?”

I raised the baggie in the air for him to see the black cable inside. Clearly it was the negative cable, and it was at least a foot too short to reach my starter.

“Black?”

I nodded my head, “It sure as fuck is. It’s black. Did you even look at this motherfucker before you tossed it in front of me?”

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to me like this,” he whined.

I pressed my hands into my back pockets, “You know what, you’re right. In fact, I don’t have to talk to you at all. Go get Kelli. I want to talk to her.”

He rolled his eyes and picked up the baggie.

“I’m serious. Get Kelli,” I demanded.

He turned toward the door leading into the warehouse. As he began to walk away, I tilted my head back and looked up at the structure of the ceiling.

“Kelli!” My voice echoed through the showroom as I screamed.

As I stood at the parts counter waiting, I turned toward the showroom floor. Jak stood talking to one of the sales staff beside a new Harley bagger. As our eyes met he smiled, undoubtedly about my having screamed. By now he had to know I was a very vocal person. In turning back toward the counter, I heard Kelli’s very familiar voice.

“Karter!” I heard her screech as she stepped out of her office and into the customer area.

“You’re always in here. What are you doing?” she asked as she leaned into me and hugged me lightly.

One thing about owning a Harley is the fact they always need worked on. Sooner or later, they’ll break down and need repairs. Harley aficionados know the value in using Harley-Davidson parts on their Harley’s. And the only place to go get original Harley parts is at the Harley dealer. Wichita had only one Harley dealer, and although it used to be run by a bunch of shit-heads, Kelli’s father bought the dealer and gave it to her and her husband. After they took over, things changed drastically. The dealer was now run by bikers who rode, knew Harley’s in and out, and were all around good people. Kelli was the president and owner. She and I got along from the day we first met.

“I’m always in here because my shit’s always broke down,” I smiled and paused, “who’s this dumb fuck parts kid? What is he, sixteen?”

Kelli shook her head, “He’s Derek’s nephew.”

“The Bone?” I asked.

Kelli nodded her head.

“Well he’s a good solid guy, but his nephew’s a fucking idiot. I need a starter cable and he brought me a negative ground cable. Where’s Teddy or Jake?” I asked.

She looked down at her watch, “Teddy should be back in like ten minutes.”

  “I don’t know where the dumb fuck kid went. I’ll just wait for my man Teddy,” I grinned.

Teddy was as big as Jak plus thirty pounds. He had a full beard, arms as big as my legs, and a massive chest. He was built like an old school pro wrestler and was as nice as anyone I’d ever met. He had a gravelly voice and talked in almost a southern slang. Seeing him was always a pleasure of mine when I came in and he helped me. Having him assist me instead of the incompetent piece of shit who was trying would possibly make my day a little more enjoyable. Teddy always had at least one story to tell, and they were always funny.

“Okay. Well, it was nice seeing you, Karter,” Kelli smiled.

“Same to ya,” I grinned.

Kelli was beautiful and had jet black hair. She was tiny and very quiet. She married another member of the club who everyone said used to be a doctor. He didn’t look like a doctor, he looked like a biker. I’d seen him around, and at a few poker runs, as their club had a tremendous presence at all of the local poker runs. He seemed nice, and he was good to Kelli, but I didn’t personally trust him. Something about him just seemed off. My guess was that he was mean in private and nice in public. I guessed as long as Kelli was happy with him that was all that mattered. I turned from the counter and walked toward where Jak stood.

“Karter, I want you to meet Steve. His dad was a SEAL. He died about the time I went into the Navy,” Jak said as soon as I approached.

“Steve, this is my fiancé, Karter,” Jak smiled as he pointed to the salesman.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about your father,” I nodded.

The salesman nodded in return and shook my hand, “I’ve seen you around a few times. I’m not here much, only in shitty weather and in the winter. You’re hard to miss with all the tats.”

“Yeah, the tats and the ‘tude,” I laughed.

“You found Kelli?” he asked.

I nodded, “I’m waiting on Teddy to get back from lunch.”

I turned from the salesman to Jak, “You mind waiting for another fifteen minutes?”

Jak shook his head, “No. as a matter of fact, I was thinking about riding this bike.”

“Say again?” I chuckled.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Before he had a chance to respond, I excitedly blurted out another question, “Why?”

The thought of being able to ride with Jak was beyond exciting to me. I had purchased the motorcycle from my mother when I was fifteen. It had been in her garage as long as I could remember. She had told me she got a really good deal on it when I was a kid, and had kept it in hopes of someday having a boy. She never had another child, and when I turned fifteen I bought it for five hundred bucks. I studied on the internet, read repair manuals, and repaired it myself. Two summers later, I had the awful green paint job repainted to black. I’d never ridden with anyone else, but always wanted to. The thought of being able to share something I held as sacred as riding excited me to no end. Hell, I’d even teach him to ride.

“Well, I thought we could ride together,” he shrugged.

“Fuck yeah we can,” I squealed.

I glanced back and forth between the salesman and Jak. It was so exciting to think of Jak on a bike. I wanted him to hop on it, ride it, and buy it. I leaned between Jak and the salesman and wrapped my arms around Jak. As he hugged me, I raised my mouth to his ear.

“I thought you hated bikes. Do you know how to ride?” I whispered.

He nodded his head, “I used to ride. I always loved it,” he whispered in return.

You cocksucker, I can’t believe you kept this from me.

“Seriously?” I said softly.

He nodded his head and kissed me lightly.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to grab the keys,” Steve said.

“Alright,” Jak responded as he released me.

“You fucker. You ride?” I gasped.

“I used to. I had a friend who was killed on one, so I stopped. I just came to the realization it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his. He’d been drinking and he was speeding,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry about your friend, but you’re right. Alcohol and bikes,” I paused and shook my head, “that’s a bad mix.”

“Sure is,” he responded.

“So, seriously, you’re going to ride it?”

He nodded his head eagerly.

Holy fuck. Jak on a bike.

I looked at the black Street Glide. It was gorgeous. Thinking of riding together began to excite me greatly. Riding on the back of Jak’s bagger would be a blast. The thought of holding on to him with the wind in our faces and Jak wearing a wife beater and his boots…

Rollin’ sex.

“Karter, you little fucker,” I heard Teddy scream across the showroom floor.

I turned to toward the parts department. Teddy stood on the other side of the counter waving his arms like an idiot. I turned to face Jak and grinned.

Shit, I’m soaked.

“Shit, Jak,” I sighed.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Not with him, no. That’s Teddy, he’s cool. The problem,” I paused, looked down at my crotch, and nodded my head once.

Jak looked down at the floor and slowly up and into my eyes. His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows in wonder.

“My pussy,” I sighed.

“Oh, did you start your period?” he whispered.

“No I didn’t start my period, dork. Thinking about you on a bike made me wet. Stick your hand in here,” I said as I pulled the waist of my jeans away from my stomach.

Jak looked around the dealership and down at the waist of my jeans.

Oh fuck yes, I was totally kidding, but do it.

Do it.

Stick your hand in my pants. 

“I can’t. Not in here,” he whispered.

You big pussy.

I shook my head and released the waist of my jeans. I raised my index finger between us and used my smart assed voice, “You might be big, and you might buy a bike, but you’ve got a ways to go to be a biker.”

That ought to do it.

In some instantaneous SEAL judo move, he snatched me from my feet and tossed me to the side and onto the seat of the bike he was looking at. My ass landed perfectly onto the oversized leather seat. As he held me by the front of my shirt with one hand, he stuck his other hand into the front of my pants. I leaned back into the seat, closed my eyes, and arched my back. As he slid his finger into my pussy, I shivered and almost knocked the bike over.

He pressed his finger deep into me and curled it upward.

Oh God, my g-spot.

He pressed it even deeper and curled the tip of his finger into my g-spot again. I opened my eyes, stared up at him, and bit my lip.

One more of those, and I’ll cum.

“One more,” I whispered.

He shook his head and smiled. Slowly, he pulled his hand from my pants and raised his soaked finger to his mouth. As his lips parted, he closed his eyes.

Do it, fuck yes. That’s fucking hot.

He slid his pussy soaked finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

“You’re a dick,” I said as I stood from the seat.

He smiled and nodded, “I can be.”

“I almost came,” I sighed.

He grinned, “I know. You’re weak, Karter.”

“Weak for you. I hate you,” I whispered jokingly and I rearranged my jeans.

“Karter!” Teddy screamed.

“I better go get my cable,” I sighed.

“Looks like it,” Jak chuckled.

“Be right back,” I smiled as I turned toward the parts department.

Teddy stood beside the counter with his forearms leaning on the outer edge of the top. His arms were as big if not bigger than my legs, and his forearms were equally as large. As I walked up to the counter, he raised his right hand, opened it, and flattened his palm. I did the same with mine and slapped his open hand. Immediately, he made a fist. I did the same and pounded mine against his.

Every time he greeted me, it was with the same handshake.

“Little Karter. How’s that Evo?” he growled.

“Be better if I had a positive cable for it. Battery to starter,” I responded.

“1991?” he asked.

“Good memory,” I nodded.

“Well, it’s pretty fuckin’ easy. You’re the only tattooed supermodel who rides an Evo Softail. Be right back,” he said as he turned toward the warehouse.

After sixty seconds, Teddy walked form the back room with a cable in his hand. From what I could see, it was the correct cable.

Fuck yes.

“This fucker was back there without a baggie. Looks right to me,” he winked.

“How much?” I asked as I reached for my wallet.

“Can’t rightly charge for it. It ain’t got a fuckin’ part number,” he shrugged, “I don’t even know how to put it in the computer.”

I shook my head and smiled. Teddy leaned onto the counter and looked to his left and then to his right. As he stopped looking around and focused on me, he grinned.

“Wanna hear a story?” he asked.

I nodded eagerly, leaned onto the counter, and shoved the battery cable into my pocket.

“You know Kelli, right?” he tilted his head toward Kelli’s office.

I nodded and smiled.

“She’s fuckin’ preggo,” he smiled.

“Huh? I just saw her a minute ago. She didn’t look it,” I shrugged.

“Well, she’s preggo as a motherfucker. Doc knocked her up on a bet,” he leaned back and slapped the countertop with his open hand.

“On a bet?”

He nodded his head and leaned into the counter again, “Yep. Went to a boxing match in Texas. Doc says, if this sum bitch knocks out the Alabama boy, I’ll give ya a baby. So, the kid knocks out the Alabama boy. And Kelli tosses the birth control in the shit-can. About three weeks, and she’s fuckin’ preggo.”

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers loudly, “Just like that.”

I smiled, “Well, good for her. I’ll congratulate her on the way out.”

Having a baby with Jak would be the best gift I could ever receive. To think of Jak and me raising a child together made me think of the differences between what my mother did and what I would do. My child, if I was ever so lucky to have one, would receive nothing but love and affection. I know Jak well enough to know he’d provide the exact same thing. For a small moment as I stood there, I became jealous of Kelli for being pregnant and me not even being married yet.

“Wait, that ain’t the half of it,” he said as he leaned away from the counter and rubbed his hands together.

I raised my eyebrows in false wonder, “Oh it isn’t?”

“Nope. Guess?” he said as he began to rub his beard.

I shrugged, “Uhhm. I don’t know. Twins?”

“Sum bitch. You guessed it. Damn, you’re good, Karter,” he chuckled.

“Seriously? Twins?” I asked.

“Yep. Boy and a girl. They got one a them whatchamacallit tests. And there’s one a each in there,” he grinned.

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and wrinkled my nose, “That might be a little tough, going from none to two immediately.”

Teddy shrugged and smiled. All of a sudden I wasn’t so jealous. To think of having two kids at once seemed like more of a hassle than a blessing. Maybe if they were my kids, I’d feel differently. I smiled at the overall thought of children and of Kelli probably being excited about having twins.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“Well,” he rubbed his beard again with both hands.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot,” I said as I lifted my left hand to the counter.

“Bam!” I shouted as my hand hit the counter.

Teddy jumped backward as if I had actually scared him. As he looked down at my hand, his eyes widened and he grinned.

“Sum bitch girl. From him? The big boy?” he nodded his head toward the showroom. 

I smiled, “Yep. I’ll introduce you. He’s thinking about buying the Street Glide.”

“He better buy it,” Teddy said as he leaned away from the counter.

“Oh yeah? Why so?”

As he slowly walked toward the back room, he looked over his left shoulder and chuckled, “If you finger bang a girl on one of our bikes, you gotta buy it.”

And with that, Teddy disappeared into the back room. I turned toward the showroom and noticed Jak was gone. The spot where the bike had been parked was empty. I looked toward the front door. Steve and Jak were pushing the bike through the open doors. Excitedly, I ran toward the door. As I caught up to them, they were pushing the bike onto the sidewalk.

“So, you going to ride it?” I asked.

“Yes, I am. Let me get my feet wet for a few minutes, it’s been a while. I’ll be back in about ten,” he grinned.

The bike looked gorgeous in the sunlight. The thought of mine being broke down made me more disappointed now, as Jak and I couldn’t ride together until I fixed it. As Steve stepped to the side, Jak pulled a half-helmet on and fired up the bike. As the engine warmed, he turned toward me and tilted his head to the side.

“Kiss me,” he said.

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss. Seeing him on the bike excited me to no end. As I stepped on the sidewalk and watched, Jak pulled out onto the road in front of the dealership and gassed the throttle like he was in a street race. I smiled as he sped away and up the onramp to the highway.

“Ridin’ that motherfucker like he stole it,” Steve laughed.

“Well, at least he isn’t riding it like a pussy,” I chuckled.

Steve turned to me and smiled, “What’s your name again?”

“Karter.”

“I like those tats, Karter. Like your old man too, he’s a good dude.”

“He’s the best,” I said.

“Let’s go inside. Like any of the new bikes?” he asked as he pulled the door open.

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I like that new Softail Slim, but I’m a starving artist. I can’t afford a new bike. I just sold forty grand worth of art, but I have to manage my money. Hell, I might not sell anything else for six months.”

“Don’t cost anything to look, does it?” he asked.

“Nope,” I responded as I walked through the door.

A new flat black Softail Slim sat in the middle of the showroom. As we approached it, Steve looked toward the bike and nodded, “Get on. It sits real low. Probably wouldn’t even have to lower it.”

I hopped on the bike and grabbed the bars. My feet sat flat on the floor and my knees were actually bent. Shocked, as I had to lower my Softail three inches to get it where I could safely ride it, I grinned at the stance of the bike. It fit me perfectly.

“How much?” I asked.

“$17,500 the way it sits. We’d give a little break off that,” he said.

I kicked up the kickstand and felt the bike’s weight against my legs. It was similar to mine, but almost twenty-five years newer and with a more comfortable seat. The thought of having a new bike was something that always appealed to me. I had no hang-ups with my bike, and felt no real reason to keep it other than I had almost no money invested in it. That, and the fact I couldn’t afford to replace it. As I heard the unmistakable rumble of the Street Glide outside the front door, I tilted my head toward the entrance. Jak removed his helmet as he walked through the door.

“What’d you think of her, Jak?” Steve asked.

“Loved it,” Jak smiled.

He looked truly happy. It was almost as if he finally found the escape he had needed all along. I realized there was a tremendous amount of burden carried by military war veterans, but Jak never talked about the war. As I wondered how he dealt with the emotion from all of the missions he’d been on, I considered the freedom he may have felt while riding the bike. Riding, for me, was an experience and an escape I could get nowhere else on this earth. As he slowly meandered through the showroom, he seemed to have a little more attitude to his walk.

In his boots, jeans, and tee shirt, he looked like a biker.

“Well?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited.

“Well what? Well, you look gorgeous on that new bike, honey,” he smiled as he bent down to my height and kissed me.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Love it,” I grinned.

“Would you ever trade in the other one?” he asked.

“Oh fuck yeah, if I could afford it. Truthfully, I hate that fucking Evo,” I complained.

“How much for both of ‘em?” Jak asked.

Oh my God. Don’t fuck with me, Jak.

“Well, $27,500 for the ‘Glide, and $17,500 for the Slim. That’s $45,000. I’d say we could probably go $40,000 for them both,” Steve responded.

“She’s got a 1991 Softail in above average shape for the age. It needs a battery cable,” Jak paused and looked toward me.

I smiled and pulled the battery cable from my rear pocket and held it in the air. If we ended up with two new bikes, there would be nowhere we couldn’t go. Hell, if Jak wanted, we could ride to the coast. The thought of getting rid of my shitty old Harley became exciting as Steve waited for Jak to finish speaking.

“How about $35,000 and the old Softail?” Jak asked.

Holy shit. Jak’s serious.

“Make it $36,500?” Steve asked.

“No,” Jak responded.

Fuck, I’ll toss in the fifteen hundred.

“I’ll go $36,000,” Jak said.

“You got a deal. Now what about her old bike?” Steve asked.

“I’ll deliver it this afternoon,” Jak responded.

“Sounds good, let’s write it up,” Steve said.

“Jak? You’re serious?” I asked.

It all happened so fast. I’d never had anyone buy me anything, let alone something as expensive as a new bike. It was difficult for me to comprehend. Completely overwhelmed with emotion and excitement for Jak and me to be able to ride together, I waited for him to respond.

“Push it to the door, honey. Let’s go get your bike and bring it back here, then we can spend the rest of the day riding,” he grinned.

As I thought of loading the bike into the truck, I remembered the day Jak and I met, and how he lifted the back of the bike into the truck with ease.

And. I. Got. Wet.

As he began to walk toward Steve’s office, I whistled. Jak turned around. I kicked the kickstand down and stood from the bike. I looked down at the waist of my jeans.

“Stick your hand in here,” I laughed as I pulled the waist of my jeans away from my stomach.

“Let me get this signed and over with,” he said as he tilted his head toward the office.

“Pussy,” I whispered.

Fuck, I said that out loud.

Before I had a chance to make a run for it, Jak had me pinned to the floor, and his hand in my pants.

Yeah, I think Jak will do just fine as a biker.