Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) (8 page)

Tristan said, “I’m so sorry to have hurt you by breaking up with you, sweetheart. I was certain you would’ve be hurt more by staying with me, and that you would’ve come with me anyway and it would’ve ruined us. At least this way, there was always a chance we’d reconnect.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d wait for you, did you?”

He flushed. She saw it and frowned.

“Only if you wanted me back,” he replied.

“And if I didn’t?”

“Well, that would’ve broken my heart and you could’ve had some revenge.”

“Revenge isn’t really my thing, and I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

“I know. I’d never intentionally hurt you either. I knew breaking up would hurt, but I thought it was the lesser of two evils. You must believe me.” He came around the table and knelt beside her, kissing her cheek. She kissed him back and he took that for acceptance.

After a moment, he asked dubiously, “So do you think you could watch me race now?”

She let out a big breath and hesitated to answer. “I don’t know. The idea doesn’t bother me as much, certainly.” She bit her lip. “See, it’s the same thing as before. I don’t want to say that I can’t do it and then have you talk about giving it up for me or something, because that would make me feel guilty. I’d feel like I’m being unsupportive.”

“That’s why you hid your reactions before.”

“Yes.”

He gave her a hug. “You know, in a way, that’s very sweet.”

“But?”

“But you were hiding the truth. When I found out, I was upset that you hadn’t told me, and that you weren’t letting me support you. And that I was having that impact on you. So later when I wanted to go off racing, I knew it would be even worse, your reactions, your lying about it.”

She flushed at the accusation of lying, even though it was true. “I hadn’t meant to lie, sweetie. I guess either way, someone was upset.”

“Right. I figured the relationship had to end even though that would hurt both of us. It would be a onetime pain that was worse, but after that we could both move on.”

“I could never move on from you, Tristan. I never really did.”

His heart leapt and he kissed her. “Yeah, me either. So that brings up back to the question—can you handle me racing now?”

“I don’t know. It’s something I have to think about.”

“Okay. That’s fair.”

Changing subjects to something she’d wanted to know, she asked, “Why did you come back, Tristan? Don’t say it was for me. You didn’t know I was in Comus.”

“Well, I was suspended for a month, so I had to do something and came home. But I was hoping for at least some sign of you, or to ask your mother where you were so I could find you. I didn’t know she’d passed.”

“Would you really have gone looking for me?” From anyone else, it would’ve sounded too good to be true.

“To the ends of the earth.”

Tristan sealed his sincerity with a kiss. Part of him wanted to talk about the baby, but he felt like they’d just covered some pretty heavy stuff as it was. It didn’t appear that they’d be spending a lot of time apart and he’d have other chances to talk about that. For now, he disengaged.

“I need to go get some clothes out of my saddle bags.” Tristan rose and turned to go, then stopped, unsure if he should ask something. “Should I get it all or just something for today?”

She looked up at him, then shyly away. “You can stay tonight, but let’s take this one day at a time.”

“Okay. I can live in the moment, as long as the moment includes you.”

She turned a little red. “You’re a lot more charming than you used to be.”

“That’s because I know what I want now.”

Deciding to quit while he was ahead, he left and went to the back door, but he never made it through because something caught his eyes and stopped him short. Connor’s car stood where he’d left it, right next to his bike, which wasn’t there.

“Hey, Victoria, my bike is gone.”

“Stop joking,” she said from the kitchen.

“I’m serious. I parked right next to it. It’s missing.”

Victoria came up behind him, giving him a hug and looking out the window. Her smile faded. “Whoa. That’s crazy.”

“Someone stole my bike.”

Chapter 8 – The Sheriff

Tristan stared at the spot where his sport bike was supposed to be standing but wasn’t. He didn’t have an attachment to that particular one; as a professional racer, he went through them with some regularity and never got too used to any single motorcycle. This was a street bike, not one tuned for the track, but the reality of the only ride he had available to him being stolen was settling in. He was pissed.

Still hugging him from behind, her fingers playing with his nipples, Victoria said, “We should call the police.”

“Yeah. You left the bike in gear, right?”

“No, in neutral, I think. Easier to start later because I can just stand next to it while it’s warming up.”

Tristan sighed. Like Victoria, he always stood next to his bike while it was in neutral, and then would start it. While it was running, he’d finish putting on his helmet and gloves before getting on, putting it in gear, and leaving. If the bike was in gear when he started it, he had to hold the clutch in with one hand until he rode away, to keep it from stalling or jumping off the kickstand, preventing him from dealing with the helmet, gloves, or anything else while the bike warmed up.

He said, “Never leave a bike parked in neutral.”

“Why not?”

“Because people can just wheel it away to steal it, without starting it. Even if it is in gear, two big guys can lift a bike into a pickup truck and take off with it, but they’d have to drive back here with the truck, so we might’ve heard them.”

Her face fell. “Shit. I never thought of that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“When would I have had the chance? Why don’t you already know that, anyway?”

“Nobody told me.”

“Well, they should’ve. All the more reason you should’ve learned riding from me.” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory but still did.

“You could’ve told me that all those years ago even without me riding.”

“You wouldn’t even get on a bike. The idea of telling you how to park one didn’t exactly come up.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, so it’s my fault someone stole your bike.”

“Which you stole first,” he observed wryly.

She said teasingly, “Yeah, you’re not doing a great job of keeping it safe, you know.”

Smiling, he let that one pass and pulled out his phone. “Let me call Quinn. I want to give him a heads up.”

“Hey, Tristan,” said Quinn when he picked up, his voice amused. “I noticed you didn’t come home last night.”

“Do we have to start there?”

Quinn laughed. “That’s the best part! I assume you two patched things up?”

Grinning at Victoria, who could hear every word because the phone’s speaker volume was turned all the way up, Tristan said, “Sort of. We can talk later, but I’m calling now because my bike was stolen from behind her house.”

“Seriously?” Quinn asked. “What’s with you and this bike being stolen?”

“The first time didn’t count. This one does.”

“Call Ryan. He told me something about bikes being stolen around here a while back.”

“Cousin Ryan? I might need more than a deputy.” Only after saying it did Tristan realize he didn’t know how a deputy differed from a sheriff. The last he’d heard, Ryan was part of the Comus police department, which wasn’t big. It wouldn’t have taken long to move up to sheriff, not that Tristan had given Ryan’s career much thought, having assumed he’d long since moved on to something else.

Breaking into Tristan’s thoughts, Quinn said, “He
is
the sheriff.”

“Really? Since when?”

“Year ago or so. You need his number?”

“Yeah.”

Quinn rattled it off, and they made plans to meet at Connor’s later so Tristan could return Connor’s BMW and borrow one of Quinn’s cars instead. Then Tristan called his cousin, learning that the old sheriff had retired and recommended Ryan to take over. This wasn’t the life Ryan planned, but he’d gotten used to looking after all the people he’d grown up around. Being known, liked, and respected had given him a feeling of belonging and happiness that he hadn’t expected. There were worse things than being content, even if the pay wasn’t what he could earn in other fields.

Ryan wasn’t that surprised by the motorcycle theft and came over within an hour, finding a freshly showered couple inviting him inside via the front door. Tristan wore his own shirt and jeans once again, but without clean underwear to put on, he’d just gone commando instead, to Victoria’s approval. She’d donned a rose-colored spring dress and high heels that made Tristan feel like he was losing his mind.

“Hey, cousin, looking good in the uniform,” said Tristan, giving Ryan a hug.

Sheriff Ryan stood a lean six feet four, broad-shouldered with muscles everywhere under the brown uniform. Wavy brown hair brushed his ears. He had a tattoo of a dagger on one forearm, polished black shoes, and an array of items on his black belt, including pepper spray, a gun, and handcuffs. Steel-blue eyes shone with inner light as he hugged Tristan and gazed at Victoria in appreciation.

In a commanding voice, Ryan said, “Been a long time, buddy. How have you been?”

Tristan invited him in. They spent five minutes catching up at the kitchen table before getting down to business, starting with the bike’s description and the last time they’d seen it. Ryan radioed the details to his office and then offered some information of his own.

“There’ve been a lot of stolen bikes in the last few years,” observed Ryan. “I have a suspicion that there’s a stolen parts ring because the motorcycles haven’t been turning up.”

Tristan asked, “Do stolen bikes typically remain missing? Not on the radar?”

“Sort of. I mean, people are just riding stolen ones around, usually with stolen tags, but there’s been less chatter about unregistered bikes being found than we’d suspect.”

“Chatter? We?”

Ryan smiled. “State police. Got lots of friends there, and the rise in stolen bikes has been mostly here in Montgomery County, some up in Frederick. So they filled me in, partly because this isn’t the first one I’ve reported.”

Victoria asked, “Really? How many?”

Ryan answered, “Six in the last year just in my jurisdiction.”

Tristan’s eyes widened. Comus was a small town. “Are you serious? How many outside of it?”

“Last year there were over two thousand stolen in Maryland, usually in cities, of course, but there’s been a big increase in our local area here for some reason.”

Victoria frowned. “I wish I’d known that. I’ve been leaving my bike parked in neutral in front of my job at the strip mall.”

Ryan said, “Well that’s a fairly public street for Comus, so stealing it would’ve been a little risky, not that it couldn’t be done.”

“So have any of these bikes been recovered?” Tristan asked. “Should I get my hopes up?”

“Last year about five hundred were, so the odds aren’t in your favor, but you never know. Was there anything distinctive about it?”

“Some decals on the sides. I have a picture I can show you. It wasn’t my racing bike so it doesn’t have all of that sponsor stuff on it.”

Ryan said, “If it did, they might not have stolen it, at least if they were hoping to sell it whole. Too recognizable. Anyway, look, we need to do some paperwork and then I’ll get out of your hair. You might want to stop by Clarksburg Motorsports, too.”

“Why?” Tristan asked. He knew CMS well but hadn’t been there in years. The place probably had Victoria’s bike there now but he’d forgotten to ask her about that.

Ryan answered, “I’ve had a hunch they’re involved in all the stolen bikes around here but can’t prove anything yet. There’s a chance your bike is sitting there right now.”

Chapter 9 – Suspicion

Victoria arched an eyebrow at Ryan but kept her mouth shut as he and Tristan did some paperwork at the kitchen table. The guys at Clarksburg Motorsports had been nothing but fair to her, and she didn’t like the implication that they were somehow involved in a stolen bike ring. She thought her intuition about people was usually right. This was rural Maryland, not some big city. That kind of stuff didn’t go on around here. Only after the sheriff left did she voice her displeasure.

“I doubt CMS has anything to do with stolen bikes,” she said, crossing her arms.

Tristan shrugged. “How can you be so sure?”

“They sold me my bike and were very cool about it. They even gave me a good deal.”

“Maybe because you’re hot?” Tristan suggested, smiling.

Victoria gave him a withering look and was about to say something when she remembered the salesman flirting with her the whole time.
Had
that been the reason? The idea annoyed her. She’d done research on how to get a good deal and felt she’d handled the whole thing well when the dealer had agreed to her price. Now she wanted to smack Tristan for suggesting sexism had something to do with it instead.

“Look,” she began, ignoring his remark, “I took safety courses from them, and I get all my parts and service done there. I’ve also gone on some touring trips they arranged. These are cool guys. I just can’t believe they’re involved in this.”

“Okay, whatever you say. I don’t have an opinion.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you patronizing me?”

“No. Ryan said they were involved, not me.” He gave her a look. “You seem oddly defensive of them. Do you know someone working there or something?”

“No. I just trust them.”

Tristan smiled. “Never trust a car or bike dealership. First rule of vehicle ownership.”

Now both of her eyebrows had gone up. “I thought you
weren’t
patronizing me.”

He sighed. “Can we forget about this? Let’s head over there and see what they think of your bike.”

She nodded and went to get her purse, realizing she felt like arguing with him and wondering why. Everything had been going fine between them. Better than fine. The last day was the best one she’d had in a long time. And maybe that was why. Were unresolved issues from their past cropping up? The air hadn’t really cleared. It was too soon for that anyway. You can’t go around having baggage about someone for five years and then just fuck it all away in a day—even when the sex was awesome. She still doubted he’d told her the real reason he’d snuck into her house. Maybe he was waiting for the right time to bring up something, too. They probably had some talking to do, and she had a big secret she likely needed to tell him. But now wasn’t the time. She wasn’t sure when a good opportunity would come up but figured the two of them had time. Hopefully. She had to find out if and when he was heading back to his racing career, touring the world.