HORIZON MC by Clara Kendrick (37)

 

Nadine didn’t come home that night.

I sent a couple of cautiously worded texts, asking her if she was all right, but the thumb’s-up emojis she sent in return did little to reassure me. I hoped she’d stopped by Haley’s after the bar closed, or that one of the other guys had offered to shelter her for the night after it became clear she wasn’t coming home to me, but I didn’t want to contact anyone, or worry them.

I had more than enough worry inside of me for everyone involved.

When I’d offered my home for her to stay in, I hadn’t anticipated it being anything near permanent. We’d agreed that it would be temporary, for as long as Nadine needed it. She wasn’t planning on staying in Rio Seco. She was just there to get her bearings, a stopping place between two other, much more important destinations.

It was my own damn fault that we’d started sleeping together, that I wished for something a little less temporary. Nadine was like no one I had ever met before. She made me open my eyes to the world in new ways, discovering new things.

Even if it was better that this distance between us was helping to ease us apart, I didn’t want to let her go. I had started subconsciously crafting speeches trying to get her to stay in Rio Seco. I understood if she needed to travel elsewhere for her photography work, but this town was as good as any to set up a home base. She could go wherever she wanted to, and then return to Rio Seco. Return to me.

But when I saw her at the bar for the first time after that strange night talking about fate, Nadine chatting up one of the regulars, twirling her hair on a finger, it became clear that something had changed between us.

She didn’t so much as give me a passing glance. I was invisible to her.

At first, I thought Nadine was doing it for the tips. I figured she must’ve readjusted her financial goals and decided to go hard for some more cash. I understood. Haley didn’t flirt so much as that was just her regular personality, coming in with a smile and a wink, making the patrons feel good. There was no shame in that game. When people felt good, like they belonged, or like they were liked, they tipped better. That was a simple fact.

I watched Nadine work from a distance. There was the smile, and the wink. But there was also the laughing too hard and too long at the jokes, the squeezes on shoulders, long, lingering touches on backs. When tables of patrons started inviting her to sit down, she accepted the invitation, throwing back shots they bought her in what I could only surmise were attempts to loosen her inhibitions a little more, to make her theirs.

That wasn’t my jealousy rearing its ugly head. It wasn’t.

But since we were the only establishment in town and had a reputation to uphold, I felt compelled to intervene.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked Nadine, cornering her in the hallway to my office as she came back with a stack of cocktail napkins.

“Refilling the napkins at the bar,” she said, holding the stack like it should’ve been obvious. “We’re out.”

“I don’t mean about that,” I hissed, snatching the napkins from her. “I mean about everything. What is wrong with you?”

And, wow, if they were handing out awards for the stupidest thing to say at the worst moment, I would’ve raked in all of them.

“What’s wrong with me?” she demanded, face darkening with rage as she yanked the napkins back, a few of them fluttering to the floor. “What’s wrong with you? There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re the one who’s making a scene.”

I looked over my shoulder, but we were deep enough in the hallway to not be visible to anyone out in the bar. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like what?”

I gestured toward the rest of the bar. “You’re flirting with everything with a pulse. Men. Women. It doesn’t matter. Ugly ones. Hot ones. You’re flirting with them.”

“Does that make you feel insecure?”

Yes, I wanted to howl, but I bit back on that impulse. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.”

“I didn’t really take you to be the jealous type, Brody.”

“I’m not.” I really didn’t want to be. “I’m only concerned because you’ve never acted like this before. I wanted to know if you were doing this because of what happened the other night.”

“What other night?” She was being deliberately obtuse. She had to know what night I was talking about.

“You know. The one where you went to pick up a shift here at the bar and didn’t come back home.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I don’t remember having any sort of a discussion with you about being exclusive.”

I gaped at her. “You’re looking to hook up with someone?”

“I take whatever comes my way, if I want it.” Nadine smiled prettily at me. It was almost sly. “Why do you think I was with you? We just clicked for a minute. That’s all.”

“Where did you go the other night? Who were you with?” I didn’t care if I didn’t have a right to know. I had to know. I needed to.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”

“This is… Why are you being infuriating? Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“Fix it?” Nadine propped her fists up on her hips and started to add something to that, then seemed to think better of it. “How about you just don’t worry about it?”

“Could you just help me understand” But Nadine shouldered her way around me and back out to the main bar area, napkins bristling in her clenched hand. The momentif it had been a moment was lost, and I was more confused than ever. If Nadine didn’t want to be with me anymore, then she could’ve just said something. It just seemed now like she was rubbing all of this in my face, like I was a bad dog that needed to learn its lesson. It was hard to get through the rest of my shift at the bar, and I slipped out early, while Nadine and Haley were still helping Ace clean up the place.

I went home and looked at the state of things, wondering if I should try to squeeze all of Nadine’s belongings back into her backpack for her, when the front door flew open.

“You could’ve given me a ride home,” Nadine said, eyeing me balefully before stomping to the bathroom and shutting the door.

“I didn’t think you considered this home anymore,” I called after her. Was this the end of it? She’d returned. Maybe she just needed a day to show me what it could’ve been like, my life without her. A point to prove, or something. It was twisted, but effective. I hadn’t wanted to go on without her. I wanted things back to normal again. The wild, beautiful normal I’d come to associate with Nadine.

I found myself tiptoeing to the bathroom, where I could hear the shower running. “Nadine?”

“I’m taking a shower,” she called over the sound of the water.

“I…realize that. Can we talk?”

“Can it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

“I just…” It couldn’t wait, or I didn’t think I could wait. “What’s happening right now?”

The shower curtain ruffled and Nadine stuck her dripping face out. “What are you talking about?”

I wanted to talk about why she was here, and what she was doing. Were things back to normal, or was she getting ready to leave? What was I going to have to do to make things right, or were they already on their way to an organic resolution?

“Are you angry with me?”

“I’m not angry with you.” She blinked at me for a couple more moments before ducking back behind the curtain. “Now, can I take my shower in peace?”

“Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

So she wasn’t angry with me, but something was still off. I waited in the living room until she was finished changing, then tried again.

“What you said earlier, about us not being exclusive”

“Oh, Brody, I was just trying to push your buttons,” she said dismissively. “I hate envy. It’s my biggest pet peeve. I hate men who think they own women, who believe it’s their right to dictate each and every single thing I do. It looked ugly on you, being jealous of the people I was giving attention to, and I called you out on it.”

“You said a lot of things.”

“So did you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I was just confused about you flirting with people. I thought you and I were…kind of a thing.”

“Do you want to be a thing?”

“I… Yes.” Because I had feelings for her, and strong ones. Because I cared for her, wanted to protect her.

But Nadine sighed and shook her head. “You’re not going to like me.”

“I already like you. Unless you unzip your skin and someone else comes out, I don’t think anything’s going to change any time soon.”

“You said you didn’t like me flirting at the bar.”

“If you feel the need to flirt, I’m a modern guy.” I tried to muster a smile. “Don’t you feel something between us, though, Nadine? Am I the only one of us feeling that?”

“Feeling what?” she asked, then shuddered as I slipped my hand down her bare arm.

“That,” I whispered. “This.” My fingers trailed across her jaw line, next, and she tilted her head at just the perfect angle for me to give her the softest, sweetest kiss I’d shared in my life.

“Jesus, Brody,” she murmured. “Jesus Christ.”

“Tell me you don’t want it.”

“Of course I want it.”

“Tell me you don’t want me.”

Nadine sucked in an uneven breath and kissed me back, hard, and that was all the answer I required at the moment, taking off the pajamas she’d just put on, smoothing my hands down her lean body. Her skin smelled like the manly soap I’d stocked my bathroom with, but she made it sexy, somehow. Feminine and dangerous and utterly hers. The only thing confusing in this moment was why anything had to be confusing at all. When we were like this, reduced to our most basic instincts, pressing ourselves against each other, everything else fell into place.

I wouldn’t have called it making love, though. No, what we did on my bed, Nadine riding me in a brutal pace I could barely keep up with, was pure fucking. It was putting into motion and actions all the things we had trouble saying. I knew she felt the things I felt, knew that we worked together in a way that only made sense to us. That was fine. We were the only ones who had to understand it. I just needed Nadine to know that, no matter what, I didn’t stop feeling like this. I didn’t roll into work and decide to fuck with the customers because I wasn’t happy with her. I genuinely wanted her and wanted her to want me, wanted her to be happy.

When Nadine came screaming, it only made my orgasm that much better. That’s how I felt about the entire relationship. Her happiness before mine. I wanted so badly for things to work between us.

After we were done, though, both of us showeredNadine for the second time in the span of an hour or so she gave me a smile that was more like a grimace.

“Would you mind sleeping on the couch tonight?” she asked. “Or I could. I just…want to sleep alone.”

I swallowed, ready to admit defeat. “Nadine…”

“Look, you…please don’t say anything right now. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I said. “I invited you into my home. You have a right to be comfortable. I’d originally intended to be sleeping on the couch this entire time.”

“Okay. Good night.”

That was apparently enough closure and explanation to send Nadine straight to bed, but I was so puzzled dawn was breaking just outside my windows before I even felt a little bit tired. We’d had great, passionate sex, and something that felt like progress in our relationship. But she’d wanted to sleep separately with no reason other than wanting to sleep alone? It just didn’t make sense to me.

Things got so confusing that I even brought it up with the rest of the guys the next time I was off from work, Nadine was nowhere to be found, and a couple of them were relaxing at the bar.

“Are we really doing girl talk right now?” Sloan asked me after I sent out the initial feelers, even as the little weasel stroked Amy’s back. She had recently returned to Rio Seco after some time abroad, reporting on a story that was coming out in the next issue of a major news magazine. The story she’d done about Sloan’s experiences as a Navy SEAL had resonated with a ton of people, and now Amy could pretty much write about whatever she wanted. Everyone wanted to publish her work.

“We can do girl talk.” Amy paused in her writing and smiled up at me. “Girls are wonderful.”

“They are wonderful,” Sloan said patiently. “But we could be talking about other things. Like doing a ride, especially with all the fall foliage.”

“You are just as cute as a button,” she teased him. “‘Fall foliage.’” She made a notation in her notebook.

“What are you writing about?” I hazarded.

“Just notes,” she assured me, like that was supposed to make me feel any more secure about anything.

“I’m just trying to get some insight on to what’s going on,” I said, defensive. “I can consult Google, maybe hit up some message boards, or something.”

“You’re going to not want to do that,” Ace advised me. “If there’s anything I’ve learned about the Internet, it’s not to ask it the really important questions.”

“And what questions would you consider to be important?” Sloan asked him.

“You know. Symptom checkers.”

“Always cancer,” I said, nodding.

“And relationship advice,” Ace added.

“That you’re not meant to be together,” Sloan said. “So, that’s what friends are for. You can ask us the serious stuff.”

“Unless it’s about symptoms,” Amy said, not looking up from her notepad. “I’d recommend a doctor for that.”

“Yeah, we’d rather not know anything about any symptoms you’re experiencing,” Sloan agreed with a wince. “But we’re game for relationship discussions.”

“I just really need to bounce some things off you all, if you don’t mind.”

“Could I just… May I make a suggestion?” Amy gave me a sidelong look, and I nodded. “I’m assuming you’re going to be bouncing some things off us about Nadine, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

I squirmed a little bit. “Kind of.”

“Because she would really be your best source of information on this.”

“It’s hard to talk to her about it,” I said, hesitating, dragging out each word. “Otherwise I would’ve. I don’t like to air my dirty laundry.”

“Let the man talk,” Sloan chided Amy. “That’s what friends do. Listen to each other gossip.”

“It’s not gossip!” I exploded as Ace and Sloan laughed. Amy, to her credit, pressed her lips together and returned to her writing.

“We know it’s not gossip,” Ace said, flapping his hand at me. “You’re venting, trying to figure things out. We’re just teasing you. Go on. Say what you came here to say.”

“The thing is, I’m not convinced she likes me.”

Sloan whistled. “Well, if you don’t think she even likes you, then why hold out hope for anything? Isn’t that the most basic requirement of a relationship? You have to like each other or it’s definitely not going to work.”

“You’d think so, right? But she’s still staying at my house. Claiming not to be angry with me or anything like that.”

“Well, what is making you think she’s angry with you, or she doesn’t like you?”

My face colored. “She’s hardly giving me the time of day, but she seems suddenly willing to give everyone else in town the time of day.”

Sloan frowned. “You mean she’s…”

“Flirting,” I finished for him. “With everyone who walks in through that door, and that’s only what I see when we’re both working here.”

“Wow, so it wasn’t just me,” Ace said, a look of comprehension dawning over his face.

“Wasn’t just you what?” I demanded.

“She flirted with me one night, or at least I thought she did,” he explained. “I thought there was going to be a problem, but now that I know she was flirting with everyone, I feel a lot more relieved.”

“Hey, she didn’t flirt with me,” Sloan said, clearly pouting.

“That’s supposed to be a good thing,” Amy reminded him.

“Yeah, I know, but…” He stopped, then chuckled. “Okay, that is pretty ridiculous. I felt jealous for a second.”

“My beauty can be a terrible burden,” Ace said, laughing as Sloan jabbed at him.

“I’m glad you all find this so very fucking funny,” I sniped. So far, this discussion hadn’t helped at all. I was becoming some kind of joke.

“We’re only laughing at you because we’re relieved it’s not us,” Sloan said, which wasn’t comforting at all. I wondered if he even thought it would’ve been.

“Maybe it’s the sex,” Ace suggested.

“Fuck you.” I eyed him balefully. “I have never gotten a complaint in that department.”

“Just a thought. Could be your first complaint, is all I’m saying. Happens to the best of us.”

“What are you writing down?” I roared, rounding quickly enough on Amy to make her jump and drop her pen. “Are you recording this?”

“No,” she said, then looked guilty. “Okay, maybe.”

“Sloan,” I complained. “What the hell?”

“It’s not like I’m going to publish this conversation,” Amy said, swatting at Sloan’s hand as he tried to swipe her pen. “All I’m doing is a study on dialogue. Trying to get the hang of how real people talk to each other.”

“Why?” I spat.

“She’s looking to make a move into fiction,” Sloan said, sounding weary. “It’s been stressful.”

“It has not been stressful,” she argued. “All I ask from you is your support.”

“And what I would do if you cheated on me, or if you died, or if you decided to move halfway around the world…”

“I’m just looking for some honest reactions,” she explained. “I know how I would react in all of those situations. I needed to understand how other people would.”

“How would you react if I died?” Sloan asked slowly.

“I’d mourn you for a time, then move on,” she said brightly, belying the heaviness of the question. “Brody, what would you do if something happened for you and Nadine not to be together anymore?”

What would I do? Cast around, hoping that it wasn’t happening even if all the signs were there. Bury my head in the sand, wishing that I was wrong about everything and all of this would eventually turn around.

“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s kind of hard to think about.”

“Hitting a little too close to home?” Ace asked.

“You know, I think I have some paperwork to do in the office,” I said.

“Oh, come on,” he complained. “We’re just having a discussion. Don’t run off and hide in the office because your feelings are hurt. If you have this much trouble talking about your feelings with your friends, I can’t imagine it going very well with communicating with Nadine.”

“That’s pretty insightful, coming from you,” Amy commented, jotting down a few notes.

“Thanks,” Ace said, preening, then deflated a little. “That wasn’t a compliment, was it?”

“It almost was, I think,” Sloan said. “Pretty close.”

“See you later,” I said, starting to walk off, but Sloan snagged my arm.

“Stay,” he said. “We’ll figure this out. Everyone thinks better with beers in them, right?”

“I don’t feel much like drinking,” I said. “I’ll just head on home.”

“Brody doesn’t feel like drinking?” Ace exchanged a look with Sloan. “You really are upset, bud.”

“I wasn’t faking it.”

“Tell us what to do,” Sloan pleaded. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I guess I just have to figure it out.”

“Talk to Nadine about it,” Amy urged. “She’s the one with the answers you need.”

“I’ll try, but I don’t know if she’s going to be very forthcoming with me,” I said. Honestly, I was just hoping she’d found something to do outside of the house. I wanted to go home and take a shower to wash all this off and maybe sleep for the rest of the day. It was scary how attractive that proposal was.

“All we can do is try sometimes,” Amy said, nodding sagely. “We’re all here if you want to talk again.”

The last thing I wanted to do was agree to bare my soul to my friends again, but I nodded all the same, probably only for Amy’s sake. She was trying, at least, and that was more than I could say for Sloan and Ace.

It wasn’t really fair, though, for me to take out my frustrations on my friends. That was really the only thing going on, here. I was projecting my fears and irritations on to Sloan and Ace, and the only person I should’ve been angry with was myself. Or Nadine. Or the universe, for catapulting two completely incompatible people together and making them feel things for each other.

I was home before I knew it, walking through the door, and there was Nadine, sprawled out on the couch, watching daytime television. She jolted with surprise we’d scared each other, me with my sudden entrance, her with being there.

“I didn’t think you’d be home,” I said, feeling awkward. There was no worse feeling in the world than not wanting to be in your own home, and there was a part of me that resented Nadine for making me feel like that.

“I’m here,” she said. “Indulging in some trash TV.”

“I sort of thought you’d be out having an epic adventure or something.” God, that sounded lamer when I said it out loud than when it was bouncing around inside my skull.

She snorted. “Is that what you think I do? Just embark on epic adventures all the time? I don’t even have a way to get around here. I’m stranded if I want to go anywhere beyond reasonable walking distance. Rio Seco really could use a ride-share program, you know, but maybe that would make it lose some of its charm of being impenetrable.”

“You know, if you needed to go somewhere, you could just tell me. I’d take you wherever you needed to go.”

“I’m already inconveniencing you by staying in your home,” she said, after a beat, looking back at the TV. “I’m not going to make you be my personal chauffeur, too.”

There had been a time when she’d been thrilled to ride on the back of my motorcycle, arms clutched around my middle, laughing and shouting into the wind. It felt like those days were over.

“I’ll just be going, then,” I said, unable to stay there any longer with her. I didn’t even want to take a nap anymore, even though I was even more exhausted than before. There was just so much that had been lost, and I didn’t have a good explanation for it. I didn’t know if she had an explanation, either. I knew that Amy had told me to talk to Nadine directly, but it was just too difficult. Maybe I didn’t want to know what had gone wrong. Maybe living on the edge of possibility, hoping that we would find the way back to each other, the way we were before, was better than facing the reality of us never being good for each other again.

“You seriously just got here,” Nadine pointed out. “Why did you come here if you were just going to walk back out again?”

And what could I say to that? I’d wanted to just exist in my own space for a little while and forget about all the various ways my heart was in danger of breaking, but Nadine had already been here. I needed to go somewhere else.

“I just needed to…get something before I left,” I said, more than painfully aware that I sounded and looked ridiculous.

“Go on, then.” Nadine turned back to the TV, effectively dismissing me. Was I just imagining things, or did she actually sound…disappointed? I stood there and stared, wondering what I could do to solve this mystery I was wrapped up in. But she noticed me lingering like a fool, turned back to me, her eyebrows drawing together.

“What are you doing?”

I forced myself to face my fearsand the woman I had feelings for and plucked something out of thin air.

“I was actually just stopping by here to see if you wanted to go to a brewery with me,” I blurted out, probably just as surprised as Nadine at my explanation.

“A brewery?”

“Yes,” I said, in a rush of relief that I’d found something to talk about. God, I could talk about breweries for hours. “I’d planned to make this trip for a while, now, but it’s kind of a long haul. It would be fun if I had someone to keep me company on the ride up. It’s a brewery I’ve never visited before, so I’m pretty excited.” All of that was true. I had planned on making the long ride to visit this brewery in particular. I just didn’t know it was going to be today, or that I was going to invite Nadine along.

“I’ve never been to a brewery,” she said slowly, fidgeting with the remote control for the television.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to tag along,” I said. “I’ll be tasting a few beers, trying to figure out if they have anything that might sell well at the bar. If you’ve never been to a brewery, I could arrange for a tour or something. Could be an interesting opportunity to take photos.”

Nadine hesitated only a moment longer before turning off the TV. “Okay. You’ve sold me. I’d love to go.”

I was surprised, but maybe the most surprising thing was just how pleased I was. I wanted to take Nadine with me, to share today with her. And maybe some selfish part of me was looking forward to her arms around me, riding on my motorcycle.

In mere minutes, we were doing just that. It wasn’t lost on me that Nadine wasn’t acting as carefree as she used to on the back of my bike, but she was taking photos all the same, all the way up, one arm always hooked around my middle to keep her secure. Her weight behind me felt good. It was almost like my motorcycle was balanced better with her on board. It made me want to drive better, to be careful, to keep both of us safe.

We ate up the miles like they were nothing, and I let myself feel like things were normal, if only for a moment.

“Hey, can we pull over for a second?” Nadine shouted at me over the wind we were generated.

“Yeah! You okay?” I slowed carefully we were on a piece of road that wasn’t frequented by a lot of traffic, so I’d been going pretty fast just for the sheer joy of it.

“Are you kidding me?” As soon as I put my feet down on the pavement, Nadine jumped off the back. “I’m better than okay. I’m fantastic! Would you just look at these mountains?”

She took her helmet off to ogle them better, and after several long minutes, removed the lens cap on her camera and started taking pictures.

“You like them?” I asked, but it was a stupid question. Of course she liked them. They were beautiful. We were getting a little bit out of the desert and into the more forested areas of the state, so it was something completely different from Rio Seco.

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “It’s hard to believe we’re getting out of the desert. I’d almost become accustomed to it, you know? Taking it for granted. This is a good reminder.”

“Good skiing up in this region, in the winter,” I said. “If that’s your thing.”

Nadine squatted down, took some more photos. “I’m sort of picking up on the idea that skiing’s not your thing.”

“I’m pretty clumsy,” I admitted. “We all took Haley’s SUV up here a couple of years back to try and ski. Let’s just say it did not end well.”

She chortled. “I would give anything to see any video clips from that debacle.”

“Can you imagine Chuck on skis?” I laughed at the mental picture of it, the memories flooding my mind. “He’s so big, and you know what they say ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’”

“At least it was in snow. There has to be a little cushion there.”

“Surprisingly little,” I clarified. “Wait, have you never been?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Seriously? I thought you’ve done just about every adventure out there.”

“You’ve made an ass out of yourself twice today,” she said, then gave me a small smile to brush off the insult. “I mean that you’ve been assuming an awful lot about me.”

“It just seems from your photos that you’ve been everywhere. You’re so worldly.”

“I still have a lot of world to see,” she reasoned, now pointing her camera away from the mountains to document the desert seeping into the trees. “I’d like to go skiing at some point. It’s on the list.”

“There’s a list?”

“Everyone has a list. Bucket lists.”

“So morbid,” I complained. “It makes the idea of your time running out so dire. Don’t you think people will start to panic the older they get, knowing the amount of items on their list that will go unchecked?”

“Well, when you put it like that, maybe.” She looked at me. “What’s on your bucket list?”

“Maybe I don’t have one. Maybe I don’t believe in them.”

“I’m telling you, whether you like it or not, there are things you want to do before you kick the bucket. Humor me and name a couple.”

I scuffed my boot against the dusty pavement, feeling awkward. It was a lot to reveal, and it made me feel vulnerable. There would’ve been a moment, before, when I would’ve been fine with revealing my most secret dreams to Nadine. It would’ve come naturally, from the same place she coaxed information about my past. You could say what you wanted about her, about the things I hadn’t yet figured out, but she was really easy to talk to.

“I want to have my own beer,” I said. “If not a company, then at least a couple of brews sold around the state, or even the country.”

Nadine had stopped taking photos, and gave me her full attention. I tried not to squirm under that scrutiny.

“What else?”

“I… This is stupid.”

“Bucket lists are lots of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. People love the things they love, and everyone’s entitled to their dreams.”

“Okay. I want to have a locally-made beer in every state. Which means I want to visit every state. And drink a beer while I’m there.”

The corners of Nadine’s mouth twitched. “Okay.”

“If you laugh at me, I’m not going to say another word for the rest of the trip. You’re the one who told me my dreams were valid.”

A cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh issued forth, but Nadine somehow managed to keep a straight face.

“I would never laugh at you,” she said. “I think that dream is…well, it’s cute, Brody.”

“Cute?”

She nodded, solemn, her mouth twisting to contain her mirth. “Cute.”

“It’s my bucket list, and I demand that you don’t think of it as cute.”

“I can’t make any promises. Come on. What else?”

“No way. Not with you about to lose your shit laughing at me.”

“Aw, Brody.” She was grinning, now, but at least it was rueful. “I know you love beer, but I didn’t know you loved it that much. Maybe you should dream bigger. Have a locally made beer in every country of the world.”

“You know, I never even wanted to travel until I was in the Marines,” I said wonderingly. “I’ve already started on that bucket list item, then, drinking around the world.”

Nadine had been taking photos of me, but she stopped, staring at me through the viewfinder. “That’s good. What else is on that bucket list of yours?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to get married.” And Jesus, where did that come from, even if it was true? I had to chalk it up to being under pressure and caught up in the moment. Getting married was on my bucket list, but I didn’t need to bring it up around someone I had so many complicated feelings for. I didn’t even really know whether Nadine even liked me enough to tolerate my existence.

“You’re a romantic,” she said. “You ever come close?”

“Close to what?”

“Getting married.”

I shook my head. “Just hasn’t happened for me yet, I guess.”

“It happens for everyone, I think,” Nadine said, the shutter of her camera clicking again and again. I wasn’t really sure anymore what she was taking photos of. “God, I’ve been in love so many times, so sure I’ve found the one, only for the rug to be pulled out from beneath my feet.”

“What about you?” I asked, swallowing hard. Were we at the portion of our relationship where we started talking about loves had and lost? That felt like it was going to be supremely awkward. “So I can assume getting married is on your bucket list? Right up there with skiing?”

She smiled wanly. “Everyone wants to get married.”

“Not everyone. I think Jack’s going to be a consummate bachelor.”

“He’s just feeling himself out. He’ll meet the right person. There’s a right person for everyone.”

“You believe that?”

“Sure.”

“But you said you’ve had so many almost-right people. How do you know for sure?”

Nadine looked off into the distance, but I couldn’t be certain whether she was studying the horizon or the details of her past. “I don’t know that there is a sure way of knowing,” she said, after a too-long period of silence. “You hear about all those ‘love at first sight’ stories and there are so many of them that you have to wonder if there might be some kernel of truth in it. I don’t know. I’m kind of skeptical about it.”

“No stirring feelings of love and destiny when we met on that highway?” I teased her lightly. I’d never been as sure about any of the women I’d dated as I had been about Nadine, and then the bottom had fallen out of everything. Had it just been too much, too soon? We were getting along just fine, now. Of course, there wasn’t anyone around for her to flirt with.

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” she said, giving me a tight look I had a hard time interpreting. “Should we get back on the road? Don’t want to miss your brewery.”

“It’s open pretty late, but we can get going.” I handed her back her helmet, and rewound our entire conversation through my head. What had I said wrong to make her go cold there, at the end? Was it the quip about love at first sight? Had that been a mistake?

“I don’t know much about whether I believe in love at first sight,” I said, throwing a leg over the motorcycle. Nadine climbed on behind me, perched on the seat. “Do you think it’s just like a fairytale, meant to inspire people to believe in impossible things?”

I turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine, giving Nadine a chance to consider her response. I halfway didn’t expect her to answer. It was a stupid question, after all. But as I walked the motorcycle forward, gradually increasing the speed until I could pick my feet up again, she shouted in my ear.

“I think it’s a thing,” she said. “Maybe I’m just jealous of people who have it.”

Okay, so that hurt a little. She was jealous of people who had it, which meant that she hadn’t felt it when I’d nearly hit her with my bike that first night. I’d only asked the initial question as a joke, but now it stung that she hadn’t experienced what I had in that near-accident. Of course, I’d also been spitting mad and shocked, so those extremes tempered any head-over-heels love I might’ve had for her.

“I felt something with you, when we first met,” I called over my shoulder. I had no idea why I was revealing this. Nothing good would come of it. Half of me suspected that it was some hope that she wouldn’t hear me because of the wind.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I shouted. “Don’t worry about it. This wind makes it pretty hard to hear each other.”

“No, I heard you,” she yelled back. “I just didn’t understand you. What did you feel?”

“We’re venturing into stupid territory again,” I warned her.

“In affairs of the heart, nothing is stupid.”

“Well, I can’t be sure it was the heart,” I said. “You nearly killed me, after all, and halfway sent me into cardiac arrest.”

“Sounds like an affair of the heart to me.”

“What I meant was that I felt an immediate connection with you,” I said. “We can probably explain it away with shock, the adrenaline after nearly getting in the collision. I just felt like there was a spark, there. Something we shared.”

“That’s really sweet,” Nadine said. I waited for her to elaborate, or maybe even to reveal the secret yearnings she harbored for me since I illuminated her with the headlight on the bike that night, narrowly missing hitting her. But she stayed silent, her hands gripping my midsection a little harder.

By the time we arrived at the brewery, we’d mastered the art of awkward silences. I was so used to it, it felt like it even harmonized with the wind. I shouldn’t have brought up the idea of feeling something for Nadine the first time I saw her. Of course that would turn things on the awkward side. It just… God help me, it had felt right when it had fallen out of my mouth, like maybe something inside me knew that she needed to hear it. That didn’t make sense, though. None of it made sense.

“So, this is it?” Nadine looked good, the helmet tucked up underneath her arm. It was kind of a natural look for her helmet under her arm, camera around her neck. “No offense, but it doesn’t really look like much.”

“Some of the best places are the ones most people overlook,” I said. “This brewery hasn’t started any real distribution deals, yet. It’s basically brewing and selling its beers right out of there.”

“Makes it exclusive, at least,” she reasoned.

“I’ll be sure to use that argument when I’m trying to get Jack to let me buy a keg or two from them,” I said, smiling. “You ready?”

“Yeah. I’m kind of excited.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re all about craft beer and indie breweries. Something has to be exciting about it to make you so obsessed.”

“The artistry is what excites me,” I said. “And people’s passions for the beers they brew. That’s the special part.”

Nadine’s eyes shone at that, but she didn’t say anything else. I’d called ahead, and the owner of the brewery had arranged for a tour. This was more for Nadine’s benefit than mine; I’d been in so many breweries that I knew exactly what everything was. I was glad, though, that I’d asked for someone to explain things. Nadine was fascinated, pointing out things and asking questions, and I was just happy to tag along for the ride. She took picture after picture of the gleaming tanks, the mash fermenting, the various grains and hops and other ingredients they used to make their beers. Nadine seemed particularly delighted at a corner of the space that looked more like a chemistry lab than a brewery. Our tour guide explained that the test tubes and tiny glasses and pipettes were to test for different qualities in their beer alcohol content, for example.

“It’s like science, but the delicious, exciting kind,” Nadine said, turning to me.

“You should print that on a T-shirt,” I joked to the tour guide.

“Are you ready for the fun part?” he asked us.

“Fun part? This has all been fun,” Nadine gushed. “I guess I never really thought about how much really goes into beer. This is…well, it’s a lot, but it’s really interesting.”

“The fun part I was thinking about is the tasting room,” the tour guide explained. “Follow me.”

For an indie brewery with no distribution plans as of yet, the array of brews on tap and available for tasting was impressive. I worried that they were pulling out all the stops for me, and I couldn’t really guarantee an ability to buy whatever I wanted for the bar. Jack was the one who got the final decision on everything, and he was proving to be slow and stubborn to accept craft offerings in the bar, even if they were from New Mexico brewers.

“Oh my God, taste this pumpkin beer,” Nadine said, pushing her shot glass of beer over to me. “It is to die for.”

“I think I have one of those over here,” I said, laughing at the array of glasses and paper maps and directions in front of us. There were beers of all flavors and varieties your normal collection of IPAs, wheats, stouts, ambers, and the like, and then really off-the-wall offerings, like the pumpkin beer Nadine was obviously loving; malty fall flavors, dessert-themed brews, and high-alcohol beers aged in bourbon, wine, and tequila barrels.

“Yes, but this one is better because it’s mine,” she said, grinning widely at me. Nadine had taken to the high-alcohol beers swimmingly. I’d even caught her downing mine, so the tour guide had smiled and poured me some others, which Nadine had continued to sip.

“Wow, that is good,” I said, finally giving in and taking a sip of her shot glass. I could see the imprint of her lipstick on the other edge of the glass, and something stupid inside of me wanted to press my own lips against it. “This would be perfect for the holidays. I think we could absolutely sell this at the bar.”

“I’d buy it,” Nadine said.

“You know no one who works there ever pays for their booze,” I told her. “You should see Sloan’s bar tab. It’s legendary.”

“You should pick up some kegs of this,” she urged. “Seriously. This is good.”

“Are you sure it’s not the bourbon barrel beer samples talking?”

She giggled. “I’m sure. Those are good, too, but beer drinkers might be intimidated by the bourbon part, and bourbon drinkers don’t care for beer.”

“Somewhere there’s a market of buyers for that beer,” I said wistfully. “Just not at Horizon.”

“But the pumpkin beer is just fun,” she said. “And very festive.”

“I’ll text Jack,” I said, pulling my phone out, but Nadine laid her hand on top of mine and stopped me.

“Why do you need to text Jack for every little thing?”

“It’s his bar, first of all,” I said. “Jack gets to decide what we sell there.”

“Yeah, but he isn’t even a craft beer fan.”

“One of his few faults,” I agreed. “But he knows the town, and knows what works.”

“Okay, I get that he’s got a business plan or whatever,” she said. “But what if the bar could be something completely different and new?”

“I don’t know that different and new is really what the Horizon MC Bar needs, actually. It’s the only bar in Rio Seco. People come in because it’s consistent.”

“I think people would keep coming regardless of what’s on the menu,” she said. “But I think even more people might come if you did some different kinds of programming and marketing. What about a Mexican beer night? You’d feature a bunch of imports, maybe have some swag to give away, like stickers or beer holders.”

“What about the people who don’t like Mexican beers?”

“You’d take careful note of them so you could remember they are losers and not to be trusted.” Nadine pulled a face. “Seriously? Who doesn’t like Mexican beers? They’re delicious. Squeeze some lime on that, add a dash of salt, and you’re in heaven. No beach necessary.”

I laughed at her. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to assume there are some customers who aren’t to be trusted at the bar.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t have anything else to drink,” she said. “You could just offer specials on the featured beers to encourage people to try them. If the regulars wanted their gin and tonics or whatever they drink, they could still order them. They’d just be missing out on being cool, that’s all. Oh! You could have special hashtags and filters for the themed nights, and I could do like a photo booth with different props, like maracas and sombreros, things like that.”

“Have you been thinking about this for a while, or what?” I asked her, a little floored. “That’s actually a good business plan.”

“What do you mean, ‘actually’?” Nadine frowned a little at me. “I have good ideas.”

“I’m not saying you don’t,” I said quickly, looking to head off any arguments. We were dealing with awfully high alcohol content, even if they were no bigger than a shot glass each. There were just so many shot glasses to choose from. I was going to have to dial it back if we were going to make it back to Rio Seco tonight. “I’m just saying that it’s a surprisea wonderful one that you’ve been thinking about these kinds of things for the bar.”

“I’m sure you’ve thought about them, too,” she said.

“Sure I have. My only problem is Jack.”

“He should take more of your ideas seriously. You have really good ideas, and you’re a good source of knowledge on beer. That’s important. You know more about beer than the owner of the bar does.”

“But since he still owns the bar, I have to run all purchases by him.”

“See, that just tells me that he doesn’t trust you, and that’s offensive. You’re good friends. You know what you’re doing. He should let you take the reins on that. He’s the one who doesn’t want to do any real work at the bar.”

“He doesn’t trust me on beer because one time I told him I’d get him a glass full of his favorite cheap beer and hit him with an IPA instead,” I said. “I thought he was lying about only liking crap beer instead of craft beer, but he really hated it for a long time after that.”

Nadine was gasping for breath while she laughed hard. “Oh, Brody. That’s terrible. You can’t just surprise someone like that. And with an IPA of all things? You could’ve given him a blonde ale, or something.”

“It was a really hoppy IPA, too,” I confessed, sending her into a fresh gale of laughter. “He was pissed. Would only drink from cans or bottles for months afterward.”

“Well, who can blame him?” she asked. “I know you love hops, but not everyone does. Oh! For Easter, you could do an IPA-themed night. Get hoppy, or something like that.”

“You are so cheesy right now,” I teased her. “I’m loving it.”

“I could help you come up with the best puns for your theme nights,” she said. “Now, go ahead. Buy a keg of that pumpkin beer.”

“I can’t just buy something like a keg without Jack authorizing it. I wish I could, but I have more respect for him than that. He trusts me to make good decisions.”

“This is a good decision.”

“I know. But he would want to know about it first.”

“Okay. How about you surprise him with a case of that pumpkin beer, just to prove to him that you’re more than capable of taking the initiative to make the right decisions for the bar, and then go from there? I bet the case would fit on the back of the motorcycle.”

I laughed at her. “With you on the back, too? I don’t think so.”

“I do! We’d strap it down tight, and then I’d just sit really, really close to you.”

Could I be blamed for the way the crotch of my pants got a little tight at that prospect, Nadine’s front pressed against my back as we vibrated down the road?

“I’ll think about it.”

“No, Brody, just do it. I promise it’s a good idea. People are going to love this pumpkin beer. You’ll sell out of the case immediately and be forced to order a keg of the stuff.” Nadine smiled at me. “Take a leap of faith, here.”

I had no choice but to smile back. Her happiness was infectious. “Okay, you know what? Fine. I’ll buy the case. But I don’t want to hear any complaints on the way back to Rio Seco about how close you’ll have to sit to me to fit the beer on the back of the motorcycle.”

Mischief played over Nadine’s face. “Have you ever considered adding a sidecar to your bike?”

I burst into laughter. “A sidecar? Really?”

“I think it’d be pretty amazing,” she said. “I could ride in it, or you could use it to carry groceries from the store.”

“No one wants to ride in a sidecar, Nadine.”

“I do! I’d look great in a sidecar. I’d always have a fancy dress on, plus my helmet. And I’d get some aviation goggles.”

It did paint a pretty amazing picture in my mind, Nadine all fabulous in the sidecar, rocking the goggles. If anyone could pull it off, it was her.

The ride back home was amazing. We chatted and shouted at each other and laughed the entire way, the bottles in the case clinking together ominously whenever there was a bump in the pavement. I tried to go as smoothly as I could, but it was hard to do when Nadine was as close to me as she was, still somehow snapping photos for the entire ride. We stopped once to watch the sun set, painting the desert in orange and gold, before making it back to my house as the first stars were winking to life, there all day but in need of darkness to truly shine.

“I should probably take this case on to the bar and beg Jack for forgiveness,” I said. “I used the company credit card.”

“That can wait until tomorrow, can’t it?” Nadine asked, waiting as I unlocked the front door. She’d had considerably more to drink than I had, and her eyes drooped in a cute way.

“Sure, it could probably wait until tomorrow, but I can go ahead and take care of it tonight,” I said. “Can’t say I’m much of a procrastinator.”

“You could take care of me tonight.” A single arched eyebrow gauged just how I was going to take that obvious proposition.

I cleared my throat a little awkwardly, feeling hot beneath my collar in spite of the cool, autumn night. “Is that what you really want?”

“Of course it is. That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“I just wanted to make sure.” I was the one who wasn’t feeling sure of myself, following Nadine inside, the box of beer still tied to the back of my motorcycle. It would be fine, but I wasn’t sure I would be. The sex lately had been pretty explosive I wasn’t lying when I brought it up to the guys at the bar. But this felt different. There was nothing to prove, nothing to be angry about, just a nice day we’d shared at a brewery, and on my motorcycle. It was a full-fledged date, and it had been a long time since I’d been on one of those.

“Why are you dawdling?”

I refocused to see Nadine sitting on the edge of the bed in the darkened room. She’d taken the liberty of stripping down to her bra and panties, and she fidgeted with the edge of the rug with her toes, waiting for me.

“Just thinking about what a pretty picture you’d make,” I said. “Should I take a photo of you?”

She snorted. “Who’s the photographer, here?”

“You are, but you’re beautiful enough to be the model, too.”

“Oh my God, that is officially the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard,” she said, rolling back onto the bed and guffawing. I leapt after her and tickled her along the ribs, teasing her as she squawked with laughter. She fought back, and gave as good as she got. It was only when we were both out of breath, grinning at each other, that I realized how much I wanted her, how hard I was beneath my jeans.

“You really are beautiful,” I said, then kissed her cautiously, not sure what to expect.

“Thank you,” she said softly, then kissed me back.

Something in my heart lifted, and I deepened our contact, weaving my fingers through hers, touching her tongue with mine. Of all things, she tasted a little of the pumpkin beer we’d sampled, and I smiled against her lips, thankful for breweries and motorcycles and adventures and the chance to get all of this right. That’s what this all felt like. A glorious second chance. A new beginning. I sure as hell wasn’t going to squander it.

“Take off your clothes,” Nadine suggested shyly, plucking at my belt. She managed to get it unbuckled before I stepped in, shucking off my jeans and boxers in one motion, then flipped my shirt up and over my head. “That’s better.”

“You think so?” I gasped as she took my erection in her hand, working her fingers from base to tip as if she were judging it for the first time.

“I definitely think so.”

I made her lose her train of thought by rubbing her through her panties. She let go of me and spread her legs wider, sighing with something that sounded a lot like relief.

“Needed this?” I asked her gently, tracing the shape of her lips through the cotton.

“Feels good,” she confirmed, reaching around behind her back to unfasten her bra. Nadine planted her feet against the mattress and lifted her hips so I could draw her panties down her legs and over her feet to join the pile of our clothing on the floor, and when she beckoned me to her, I obeyed, eager to please.

I reached between us to test the waters, so to speak, and was surprised when my fingers came away practically dripping. “You’re so wet.”

“Chalk it up to a long motorcycle ride pressed up against you,” she said with her very best leer, and I laughed even as I got even harder at the notion that the entire ride home, Nadine was getting all worked up on my bike, not even inches away from me.

I sank into her as easily as if I’d never left, and it was a corny thought, but she felt like home to me. She canted her hips, scooting around until she made herself comfortable, then wrapped her legs around my waist and squeezed, giving me the go ahead.

I kissed her everywhere my lips could find during those first few minutes, relieved and enchanted and achingly aroused by just how well today had gone. We’d clicked in a way that was more cerebral than carnal today, and it made tonight’s tryst more tender, somehow. More understanding. I’d confessed my dreams to her, for God’s sake. There wasn’t much more in the way of baring myself that I could do.

Well, I supposed I could tell her that I loved her, but I decided I’d rather focus on this moment, on sussing out all the little sighs and moans I could get out of Nadine, rocking into her, losing myself to the rhythm and the sensations of something we both knew how to do.

“You know it’s me, right?”

I paused in my thrusts, panting, and cradled Nadine’s face with one of my hands. “What?”

She gave me a small smile, blinking rapidly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just…nothing.” Her eyes were too bright, even in the darkness of the bedroom. Was she about to cry? “Make love to me.”

“Nadine …”

“Please. For me. Please.”

I thrust forward again, unable to deny her, and she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, taking my breath away with her legs around my waist. What was going on here? She obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but I didn’t think continuing our little session was the right move. Nadine was upset enough to have tears in her eyes, and I needed to know what had put them there. Was it me? Something I’d said or done? She’d said it was her, though, and I couldn’t puzzle that one out.

I flattened against her, drawing my body along hers, our sweat-slicked skin slipping against each other. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” I kissed her ear, then the tender skin of her neck just below it.

Nadine shuddered. “I…”

“Because I’m here to tell you that you can. You can trust me. I want you to. Anything you want to tell me, you can.”

Maybe it was some revelation about her behavior while working at the bar, flirting with everyone. Something that would explain all of that, and the awkwardness that ensued between us for which I could never really figure out an excuse.

“I can’t,” she breathed, raking her nails down my back, the sudden spike of pain bringing me right to the edge of climax.

“You can,” I argued. I really didn’t want to be arguing at a time like this, but it felt like an important point to make. “I’m here for you, Nadine.”

“I want you to come.”

“We should” Jesus, it was hard to ignore that particular request “talk about this.”

Nadine arched her back and squeezed every muscle, drawing my orgasm out of me almost against my will. It didn’t make sense, how I could come at a time like this, but she’d known exactly what she was doing. I was helpless to it, burying my face in the crook of her neck to hide my groans of pleasure.

I wasn’t sure if Nadine had climaxed, too, but when I reached between us to touch her, she rolled out from underneath me.

“Can I Did you” It was hard to come up with words, least of all sentences after that. I knew a lot of it had to do with the fact that I’d been so unsure of our relationship until our magical time at the brewery. I’d never had so much fun before with someone, and I knew it was because Nadine understood the things I was most passionate about. I only wished I could understand her better, too.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little drunk. Nothing I can’t sleep off.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You did.”

“Can we talk about the thing you said right now?” I wanted to smooth the skin of her arm, to reassure her, cuddle her to me, but I didn’t know if my touch would be welcomed. I didn’t know which Nadine I was in bed with right now the one who had encouraged me to pursue my dreams, or the one who liked to flirt with other people in front of me.

“What thing?” Her voice was thick with exhaustion, but I had to know.

“You know. You said it wasn’t me. It was you. What is that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. I’m drunk. I’m going to sleep now…”

Sure enough, just as the end of her sentence trailed off, soft snores started. I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, sweat still cooling on her skin, and wished I could get her in the shower. It would help her be more comfortable, I thought. It hadn’t been overly dusty today on the road, but on the back of a motorcycle, you always picked up a little dirt. I eased off the bed and slipped into the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth and towel. I wiped her off in the places that mattered, and dried her thoroughly. She still shivered a bit following her improvised sponge bath, so I covered her with the comforter and spooned her until she stopped.

I wanted this. Maybe I was an idiot for not fully understanding what I was getting myself into, but I wanted this. I cared for Nadine so much that I was willing to sacrifice everything, only there would be no sacrifices involved. She was all I wanted. She made me happy even when she bewildered me.

I woke up later that night, not sure what had kicked me out of slumber. It wasn’t until I rolled over and realized Nadine wasn’t in bed that I really became aware. Where had she gone? The sheets were cool, meaning she hadn’t been there in a while.

I padded around the house until I found her asleep on the couch. The last person other than me to sleep on that couch was Sloan, when he was too drunk after a Fourth of July party at my place over the summer. It seemed strange that Nadine was on it. What had been wrong with the bed? Had she woken up, sober, disgusted with herself for falling in with me again?

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Those were the words she’d said to me while we were in the middle of making love. What did that mean in the context of our relationship, though? How in the world could I accept that statement without knowing what was behind it? What was Nadine? A tendency to flirt with people? To make me feel small? To ignore me until she was bored enough to take me up on an offer of a quick day trip? And what was not me? An ability to hold her interest? Any kind of future we might have happily shared? How was I supposed to make sense of that?

I looked down at her, asleep on the couch, and wondered where I’d gone wrong. Everything had been going so well, but it seemed like, most of all, she hadwoken up and hadn’t been able to stand sleeping next to me. I wished there was some easy explanation she’d gotten hot, or she’d wanted to watch TV for a bit to help her fall asleep.

But maybe the simplest one was that we just weren’t meant to be together.

I only wished that today hadn’t been so perfect. It just made everything else that much more confusing.