As the night wore on, Miranda recognized the signs of a date gone sour. Naomi and her loverboy butted heads over every little thing from song choice to drinks. Miranda's own forced date wasn't so hot either. His eyes kept wandering to skinny, younger ladies, with salon perfect highlights, and long manicured nails. A swell of rejection simmered in Miranda. She suddenly felt dumpy, thanks to her date's wordless distaste in her.
She sighed and fiddled with her empty beer bottle. She fought the urge to swing her gaze, hopefully, around the bar. The last time she caught sight of Tyler, he was the central figure in a dance floor humpfest. A few girls probably took him up on everything he had to offer. Miranda swallowed down her prickly emotions at the mere thought, but she knew she had no right to the feeling. Tyler was his own man.
“Look, I'm just saying this didn't work out,” Naomi's date said, hands flung up in a sign of defeat. His tone held a challenging edge, however. “Why should I blow money on a lady I won't be taking home?”
Naomi's eyebrows rose to her hairline, irritation glittering in her eyes. Her lips twisted into a scowl as she said, with an incredulous shrill, “Uh, because you invited us to this bar, you cheapskate!”
“Sweetcheeks, you got a pretty face and I'm sure you get free booze all the time.” Her date – Josh? Jonah? whatever – snorted as he shook his head. “But I ain't footing your bill tonight.”
“You're an asshole,” snarled Naomi, her face turning a ruddy red as she stood.
Miranda marveled how, even while spitting mad, Naomi seemed to exude grace and beauty. Her friend's irritation was catching, though. Miranda could feel her own temper rising, just beneath the surface. She tried to busy herself by watching the drunken masses writhing on the dance floor. If she and Naomi made a scene, there would be way too many people to relay the gossip all around town. Miranda had her job to think about. Who would want a foul-mouthed she-witch as their bank's manager?
“Hey, no reason to sink money into a profitless investment.” Naomi's date punctuated his sentence with a mirthless chuckle.
Miranda could feel her friend's ire rise. Her own anger itched beneath her skin. Usually, this wasn't such a big deal. However, when he went out of his way to order drinks for them, Miranda felt their irritation justified.
Naomi's shriek pierced through the delightful bubble of heat and chatter in the bar, “What?!”
Unable to contain her rage much longer, Miranda stepped into the conversation. As quietly as she could, Miranda pushed her chair away from the table and stood beside her friend. Catching the blonde by the shoulder, she leaned closer and murmured, “Naomi, let's just buy our drinks and leave.”
Naomi wheeled her enraged gaze on Miranda, who returned the fiery look with a stern glare. Just as Naomi opened her mouth to sputter out an exasperated reply, someone else stepped in. “Is everything all right over here?”
“Yes, it's fine,” snapped Naomi, her face reddening further as she spun on her heel. She stopped as she came face-to-face with a scruffy, leather-clad dirty blonde. Naomi gasped theatrically, her petite hand hovering next to her smile. “Oh, it's you!”
The man nodded, a polite grin on his lips, “And you, angel.”
“Are you following me?” Naomi narrowed her eyes, though her lips wouldn't curl down. She was smitten with this man, if Miranda were any judge.
Her gaze bounced between her friend and the stranger. She had the feeling she had seen his face somewhere else. Her mind itched with curiosity. Where had she seen him before?
“Oh, yes. I'd never ever be caught dead in a place like this,” he answered, his tone thick with sarcasm. A wry smile twisted at his lips and Miranda could see why Naomi was suddenly all smiles. The man wasn't hard on the eyes, that was for sure. When he smiled, his attractiveness was even more evident. His gaze flickered to Naomi and Miranda's dates, his eyebrows quirking curiously as he brought his gaze back to the blonde. “You sure there's no problem here?”
“Now that you mention it,” Naomi's eyes sparkled with impish glee. Miranda stifled a laugh, watching their lackluster dates from the corner of her eye. Both of them tensed as they fell under the biker's scrutinizing leer. “These two gentlemen,” even Naomi's tongue writhed insincerely around the term, “offered to pay for our drinks before they realized we were incompatible. Now, because it's not a sound investment, they're backing out.”
“Oh, really?” Jack cocked an eyebrow, his grin melting into a rather displeased frown.
The sour date forced a stiff laugh as he dug into his pocket for his wallet. “She's joking! Haha, Naomi, such a kidder.”
“Don't worry about it.” Yet another voice echoed from the bar, stepping up beside Naomi's handsome scruffy biker. Miranda's face warmed with a blush and her heart fluttered in her chest. Tyler fished out a few bills from his wallet. After waving down a harried waitress, who bounced from table to table in the bar, he handed her the cash with a wink and a grin. The woman giggled before scurrying off, tucking the money into her apron.
“You don't have to do that,” muttered Miranda, heat licking up her cheeks. She couldn't meet Tyler's gaze when he turned around.
A ruffle of amusement tickled through Tyler's thoughts. Memories danced through his head where he committed a good deed and she had a hard time accepting it. That was his Mir. Tyler clamped down on that thought and mentally shook his head. No, she wasn't his.
“Miranda, where are your manners?” Naomi sighed loudly, like a mother disappointed in her child for spitting in public. The blonde faced Tyler and his friend, a smile stretching over her lips, “Thank you. You're way too kind, guys.”
Introductions were traded, but Miranda still couldn't get herself to turn her gaze toward Tyler. Something in her shivered, knowing he was so close. Naomi continued to flirt with Tyler's apparent buddy – Jack, if her half-attention heard correctly – while awkward silence planted itself in Miranda's throat. The blonde suddenly twittered something about 'her' song being on. Before Miranda could register the words and manage a protest, Naomi dragged Jack off into the dance floor.
Soon enough, both disappeared among the writhing throngs. Miranda swallowed heavily, staring forlornly in the direction they had disappeared. She needed her best friend to play buffer. Her awkwardness was catching.
At least the shoddy dates were long gone. They had scurried out from the table as soon as Tyler paid the tab.
Tyler stood beside Miranda, helpless and hapless. A battle warred inside him. The desire to talk to her, to reconnect, fought against his sense of responsibility. The right thing to do would be to wade back into his little throng of adoring barmaids. Yet, Tyler hesitated. He peeked at Miranda from the corner of his gaze and words fumbled across his tongue, “So, how do you like working at the bank?”
Miranda mumbled, “It's good work. Long hours, so it keeps me busy.”
“Oh.” Silence strung out from between them. It seemed a bubble of tension coiled around them while the rest of the patrons sounded muffled beyond.
Miranda shifted from foot to foot, peanuts snapping under her heel. Manners demanded she say something. Yet, part of her wanted to remain silent. The less the two of them talked, the better. Miranda couldn't help herself, though. “Um, what do you do, now?”
“I work at a junkyard and a garage.” Tyler shrugged, trying not to think about what actually happened at both places of work. This time, he couldn't meet her eye. His gaze flicked around the bar. Jack and Naomi had fully disappeared into the crowd. Or, perhaps, they sneaked out the back for a quick rendezvous.
“Wow, two jobs?” Miranda raised her eyebrows as she listed her head toward Tyler. Years ago, Tyler struggled to even land one job in Legacy. Everyone knew his reputation and very few put up with him. The few people he did work under always seemed to have excellent reviews. Well, until Tyler stopped going to work.
Tyler resisted the urge to hang his head. The auto shop and the junkyard worked in tandem and he doubted Miranda would like to hear the shadowy side of their business. Instead, Tyler muttered, “They're owned by the same guy, so they're more like one job.”
Silence fell again. Someone stumbled by them, braying like a donkey. Somewhere in the busy bar, a glass shattered and someone screamed. Miranda gave in and looked at Tyler. His profile in the dusty light of the bar reawakened short snippets of memory. Her gaze flicked to the leather vest he wore, a question toddling into her head, “So, who are the Backsteel Bandits?”
“We're a motorcycle club,” Tyler answered, mechanically. He glanced down at Miranda, forcing himself to meet her eye. He had nothing to hide. After all, clubs weren't illegal. Something in him shirked away from telling her a half-truth.
Miranda's curiosity sparked and, just slightly, an intrigued smile curled at her lips, “Motorcycle club? What do you do?”
Tyler averted his gaze. He didn't want to think about Pete or Pete's businesses. This was a little getaway to distance himself. Instead of answering, Tyler flashed Miranda one of his heart-melting grins. Her cheeks instantly pinked. A swell of delight and smugness rippled through him. “Enough about me, Mir. What about you? How've you been?”
“Good,” she answered, suddenly feeling extremely boring compared to him. Then again, Tyler always seemed to live a life of adventure. She always envied him for that fact. “You know about the bank. I have my own apartment and, uh, a great car.”
Nosiness got the better of Tyler. “Got a boyfriend?”
“No,” Miranda's face flared with a blush. “Not that I haven't dated since you, you know. Men are just assholes.”
“Yes, we are,” Tyler laughed. A pang of guilt cleaved through him, but he brushed it aside. Hadn't Miranda just gotten out of a relationship with someone? The tension in the air was becoming palatable and heavy. If he didn't do something soon, their little reunion would end with a fizzle. He didn't want that. His hand shot out, curling around Miranda's wrist before he made a beeline for the back.
“Tyler! What are you doing?” Miranda gasped as Tyler tugged her along. She pulled against his hold, but only halfheartedly. She wanted to follow him out of the bar, away from prying eyes and loose lips. At the same time, Miranda knew how all of this was going to end. Her heart knotted in delight, but under it all was a thread of sadness.
He maneuvered his way through the crowd, not turning nor answering Miranda. Her farce was one Tyler knew by heart. She put up a weak fight – since that much was expected of her – when, deep down, she wanted to follow him, wanted whatever he offered. His fingers gently squeezed her wrist with affection.
Heat crawled over Miranda's body as they stepped into the night. She blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the change in illumination. Her heart thrummed with excitement as soon as she registered they were behind the bar. The bar butted against another building, leaving a narrow alleyway shrouded in shadows at night. Not even moonlight fully bathed the alley. Her mind nudged with memories. Miranda's face flared with an excited blush and her stomach clenched, but she didn't have time to reminisce.
Tyler continued to lead her down the alleyway. At the back of his head, memories shook off a decade of dust. It was here, somewhere. He had used it plenty of times to get away from cops or other pursuers.
Miranda was beginning to wonder the point to this excursion. After all, a lot of time had passed since Tyler last wandered the streets of Legacy. Some things changed. Then again, it was possible he had already brought another woman out here. Miranda waved that sour possibility away, displeasure tainting her excitement. “Tyler?”
His eyes lit on the fire escape hanging off the other building that flanked the alley. A grin curled at his lips. Tyler released Miranda's hand as he sprinted toward the brick wall. He brought his foot up, managing the correct trajectory to rebound up and snag the hanging ladder to the fire escape.
Metal clattered as the ladder rolled down. He landed a few feet from her, a grin curling over his lips. He bowed slightly, motioning to the ladder. “This way, if you please.”
“Is it safe?” Miranda cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Tyler. She raised her hand to the ladder, and gingerly touched it, as if worried it would shatter under her palm.
“Only one way to find out.” Tyler's eyes glittered with a challenge. He leaned closer to Miranda, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smirk. “Unless you're too afraid, Mir.”
She shot him a glare, indignity flaring in her thoughts. Before Tyler could harass her any further, she hoisted herself onto the ladder. It shuddered under her weight, but didn't creak. Slowly, Miranda made her way up, trying to ignore the feeling of Tyler's gaze on her. Despite the blush that burned along her cheeks, she didn't mind his leering.
As he watched her ascend up the fire escape, desire coiled across his thoughts. His gaze slid over the curve of her back, her ass, and her legs. Pleasant heat simmered in his gut as his imagination brought her under him, her lips close, her breasts heaving, his name laced into her moans. Tyler shook the thoughts off as Miranda's boots climbed up before his eyes. He scrabbled after her, hope suspended in his thoughts
Once the two arrived at the roof, they took a moment to drink in the sight. The roof, bathed in pale moonlight, contrasted against the dark sky and the stretch of sparse vegetation that lay just behind the building. Miranda stared down the landscape, over the shrubs and trees. She thought she could hear far-off creatures rustle and sidle along the brush. Stars, barely noticeable thanks to air pollution, speckled the blue-black velvet of the sky.
She took a deep breath, glad to be away from the bar and the people. Tension oozed from her limbs and, for the first time in a long time, she felt completely at ease. A smile curled over her lips.
“You still have that look.” Tyler's voice cut through her captivation.
Her gaze snapped to Tyler's face. Her smile didn't falter, though her eyebrows dipped in uncertainty. “What?”
“It's this look you always got when we snuck off in the middle of the night,” Tyler's grin grew, though his ears reddened. He averted his gaze, unused to relaying fond memories. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “When we were pretty much in the clear, you would always stop and look around and smile, then take a big breath. Like you were enjoying freedom for the first time.”
Miranda's head listed to the side, surprise filtering through her thoughts. She definitely remembered feeling free with Tyler. It didn't matter where or how, whether they were just walking around Legacy or they had crept out for a night on the town. The fact he remembered her reactions, though, struck Miranda.
Heat licked across her cheeks and the urge to touch Tyler ran up her arms. Miranda couldn't bring herself to look away, though she did swallow the urge to touch him. For now. With a giddy smile, she laughed, “I can't believe you remember something like that.”
“Why's that?”
“Well, you've been gone for ten years.” Miranda shrugged and looked away from his face. “I'm sure there's been plenty of women you've made memories with.”
Tyler laughed, a little too loudly, and scrubbed at his face. Sure, there were women. He faintly recalled plenty of ladies and romps in the sheets. However, he'd never be able to pick many of them out from a crowd. Most of the memory making had been done under the haze of drink. He shook his head, chuckling, “None of them amount to what we had, Mir.”
A sudden wave of faint conversation slammed into Miranda. Her father's voice, her mother's shill cries, her friends' snide comments, Tyler's parting words. Pain sliced through her heart and she swallowed heavily. Realizing she and Tyler were standing too close, she sidled away, crossing her arms. “We broke up for a reason.”
“So?” Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere near the bar, a door slammed open and a feminine voice giggled raucously. Tyler resisted the urge to close the gap between himself and Miranda. “That doesn't mean the feelings are gone.”
Miranda turned away from him. Her fingers still itched with the urge to touch him, to run her digits through his hair and feel his body under her fingertips. She burrowed her hands tighter against her body, and ducked her head down. Her self-restraint clamped down on her fantasies. “I should go.”
Something was wrong. Uncertainty wobbled in Tyler's head as he cut off Miranda's retreat. For the first time since he returned, he touched her. His hands fell to her shoulders, stopping the woman in her tracks.
She stifled a gasp in her throat, delicious warmth and electricity coursing from his touch. Her lower stomach tightened and she dug her fingers against her sides, fighting mounting desires.
Tyler stooped, peering into Miranda's face as he gently asked, “Hey, what did I say?”
“Tyler, my last relationship just ended, literally, yesterday.” Miranda closed her eyes, refusing to look into his concerned brown eyes. Those eyes had a way of melting her resolve, dissecting her thoughts, coaxing the deepest ones out. She swallowed, trying to stave off her confused tears and her deep desires. A pain she thought had healed long ago throbbed across her head. “I know we broke up for the better, but that doesn't make it any easier.”
Words poised on the tip of Tyler's tongue – explanations for his flight from Legacy, the pressure to let her go, how much it hurt him, as well. But, that was all in the past. If he wanted to relay those thoughts, he should have done it a long time ago. Instead, his voice dropped an octave and his fingers squeezed her shoulders. “I'm sorry.”
She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. She knew she'd crumple into tears or – worse – throw herself at him. They didn't need to reopen past wounds any farther. She settled for a cracking murmur, “Me, too.”
Something heavy descended between them. Neither wanted to move, neither wanted to break the connection. Yet, both knew it would be for the best.
Suddenly, a buzzing sliced the air between them. They both jolted and reached for their cellphones, both relieved and frustrated at the interruption.
“It's me,” Miranda muttered, looking at the text from Naomi. Her stomach flipped while her heart thudded. A confusing mixture of hope, excitement, and dread nipped at her thoughts. “She and Jack are heading back to his place.”
She refrained from wincing. Naomi had driven her to the bar and she had the keys. The blonde probably tried to find her at the bar and, when she couldn't locate Miranda, resorted to texting. Miranda would have to find her own way home. Her mind immediately volunteered Tyler, but she ignored it.
“I figured that would happen,” Tyler laughed, hollowly. Jack had his eye on Naomi at the bank, it was no surprise he managed to get her to go home with him. If Tyler were any judge of interest, she was fairly interested in his buddy, too.
However, that did present the problem of living arrangements for him. Jack and Tyler decided to share a two-bed motel room. If they had to leave in a hurry, it'd be easier to gather everything from one room. But, it did present a problem when it came to nighttime activities.
Tyler straightened from his stance, shoving his hands into his pockets. His palm itched with tingling sensations. At the back of his mind, wishful fantasies tagged along his thoughts.
Miranda watched him for a breath. Her body felt raw and cold without his body heat or his hands. She bit at her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. Naomi was off, having no-strings-attached fun with Tyler's buddy. Enviousness ached in Miranda's thoughts. Why couldn't she do that – have flippant sex with people she barely know and feel good about it?
Her gaze edged to Tyler, again. Miranda pressed her lips together, caution and curiosity colored her thoughts. She couldn't bring herself to leave the roof. What was it Naomi always said when Miranda broke up with someone? Make sure you get it all out of your system, get some closure, and then move on. Tyler had been ripped away from her, denying her the chance of closure. Maybe he felt the same way. “Tyler?”
“Yeah?”
Miranda's gaze darted away from his face. His warm gaze made her blood boil. Swallowing, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and hesitantly looked at him. She couldn't bring herself to say what was on her mind. Forcing an awkward smile to her lips, Miranda said, “I need a ride home.”
A bright smile split across Tyler's lips.