Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) (9 page)

And that struck her as the gnawing angst unsettling her. No promises from Tristan could be enough to stop her from worrying about him leaving, not that he’d made such a promise. She needed more certainty or their new situation wasn’t going to work. Tristan had to want to be with her of his own volition, too. She wasn’t going to convince him of anything by arguing. But she could certainly make him want to stay in other ways, like making it clear that life with her was as close to heaven on Earth as he’d ever get.

She smiled with new resolve as she returned to the kitchen, finding him looking pensive. The half-smile he flashed gave her the impression he was worried about her mood and she realized that being moody wasn’t a good way to keep him around. She wasn’t the all-sunshine type, but she could try.

Putting her arms around his neck, she whispered, “I’m sorry.” Then she kissed him long and deep. His sensuous lips crushed hers as his strong arms pulled her close. She felt the warmth of his belly on hers, the muscles of his chest flexing against her breasts, and a welcome bulge pressing against her waist. This was more like it.

With a smile, she pulled away and led him by the hand toward the rear door. “Let’s go to CMS and check it out.”

As they got into Connor’s convertible, Tristan glanced around the driveway and asked her, “You don’t have a car?”

She put the seatbelt on as he started the engine. “Yeah. I don’t go far and I buy groceries a few things at a time so I can fit stuff in the saddlebags. I’ve sort of been enjoying having a lean life. No baggage.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Sounds like you weren’t planning on staying.”

She pursed her lips. “I hadn’t really made up my mind. I just came to deal with my mother’s things after she died and then decided to stay awhile. Some of my old friends are here, so it’s been nice reconnecting, even though people have changed.”

“Like you.”

“Yeah.”

“Has anything else about you changed?”

“Well, a girl’s gotta have some mysteries, Tristan,” she said coyly. “You’ll just have to find out the fun way.”

“Oh, I intend to.” He squeezed her thigh.

Clarksburg was ten minutes from Comus, eleven in rush hour, and much more populous, with over ten thousand residents. Even so, it still lacked the fast food joints and places like Home Depot, Wal-Mart, and other staples of American life. One had to go a few miles south to Germantown for such things. Clarksburg was where the people of Comus bought the basics, and Victoria had discovered on her return that the unincorporated area had been built up in her absence, with a new ‘premium outlets’ shopping center on the way.

CMS stood at the nearest part of town, a few stop lights in, a rotating, neon sign showing a Harley-Davidson with a cloud of smoke behind it. A few cruisers and sport bikes like Tristan’s were lined up outside the brick-and-mortar building, but most of the inventory remained in a big glass showroom to keep the bikes out of the elements. To one side stood the service bay, its open doors revealing a number of guys in jeans and t-shirts working on bikes that stood on stands or lifts. To the other side stood CMS Bar and Grill, a somewhat rustic-looking wooden building with picnic tables and umbrella stands out front; a bar was already serving food and drink to some of the burly bikers sitting there.

Out back, a stage stood under a canopy, where wet t-shirt contests and concerts happened on weekends. The parking lot was back there, too, and Tristan pulled to a stop in it, looking around. Victoria knew the place had beefed up a lot since he’d last been here. The restaurant was new and a fresh coat of paint covered everything. CMS wasn’t doing badly financially; that was certain. But the idea that a stolen bike ring was somehow a part of it was hard to believe. CMS provided great service and atmosphere, so why wouldn’t they be doing great?

The two of them got out and approached the showroom, but when Tristan stopped to check out a bike, Victoria gave him a pat on the ass and went inside without him, glad he’d lingered outside. In theory he knew better than to voice suspicions to CMS, but she knew he could be unpredictable at times. That had its fun advantages, but she was hoping to ward off any uncomfortable remarks.

Going through the double glass doors, she stepped onto the doormat covering the polished blue floor, looking over the rows of bikes, all gleaming chrome, steel, and fabricated shells. The smell of new tires filled the air, with a top note of motor oil wafting in from the open doors of the service bay. She was about to head that way when a familiar man approached.

“Tori!” Larry said, grinning. “What brings you in?”

She reluctantly stopped to face the guy who’d sold her the bike and who never missed a chance to flirt with her. He also insisted on calling her “Tori”. He was ten years older than her, with his thinning hair long except for where it had gone missing from his chrome dome; his head shone brighter than the metal parts of the bikes. Crooked teeth and several tattoos combined with his girth to make him seem a little scummy.

“Hi, Larry,” she said. “My bike’s in the shop. Do you know who’s looking at it for me?”

“No,” he said, “but I can find out for you. What kind of work did it need? You know that if you’d come to me first, I could’ve gotten you a deal.”

“Well, of course I would’ve come to you first! But I wrecked it so I didn’t have time to think about that.”

His grin vanished. “Oh, wow, you wrecked? What happened? You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. A deer tried to take me out.”

His eyes widened and she realized from his reaction that she was lucky to be alive. Tristan’s response had been similar. Maybe this riding thing wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“If you got the deer’s description, I’ll go take him out with my rifle. Then maybe after that I can take you out.” He snickered.

Victoria didn’t think he was smart enough for nuances like that. “Sorry, Larry, but my boyfriend probably wouldn’t like that.”

“Ah. Sure you don’t wanna trade up for me? I’ll give you a good deal on that, too.”

This time she actually laughed and gestured for Tristan to come over after he entered the showroom. “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings. Tristan, this is Larry, my salesman.”

They shook hands and Larry said, “Wow, Tristan, what are you doing here? You’re a total legend around here for all those racing wins!”

Tristan smiled graciously. “Thanks, but I think you’re overstating it.”

“Not really. Hey, you know, you could do a local commercial for the dealership or something. You know, if you wanted. We could give you a good deal on parts and bikes or whatever in exchange. I’m sure Rick would love something like that.”

“Who’s Rick?”

“That would be me,” said a gravelly voice behind them. Tristan and Victoria turned to see a slender man in his fifties. Unlike everyone else, even the salesmen, he wore a grey suit and red power tie, his greying black hair slicked back. If he had any tattoos like everyone else working here, they weren’t visible. For an earring, he wore only a diamond stud in one ear. Extending his hand, he said, “Tristan Kendall! I heard you were in town. What in the world brings you here?”

Tristan shook his hand, perplexed. “How did you hear that?”

Rick’s smile faded a bit and he faltered. “Uh, someone mentioned it. Can I sell you a—”

“Who? No one knew but my family I was here.”

“Well, it’s a small town, you know. Word gets around. I’m the owner here, too, so I hear everything.”

Tristan still didn’t see how Rick would’ve heard, but one suspicion did come to mind, so he gently probed for information. “That’s good to know. Reminds me of something I wanted to mention. My bike was stolen last night. Maybe you guys can keep an eye out for it.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

When Rick didn’t say anything else, Tristan asked, “Aren’t you gonna ask for a description of it?”

Victoria shot him a look and frowned.

Rick hesitated. “I was gonna wait for the police report to come in. They usually send those pretty quick to all of the dealers in the area. But you can certainly give me a rundown. I don’t suppose you know the VIN?”

“No. Long number.”

“That it is. We’ll get the info before you leave.”

Changing the subject, Victoria asked, “So, Rick, how are you doing?”

“Great. I’m glad to see you’re okay. I heard about your accident.”

“Thanks. We came to see the bike, or what’s left of it.”

“Oh, it’s not too bad. Let’s take a look.” Rick started off toward the service bay and then hesitated. “Hey, uh, Larry, can you go move the bikes we got in this morning, around to the back?”

Larry looked confused. “There was only the one.”

“Then that’s the one I mean.” Rick turned to Victoria. “Once he gets that out of the way, we can go take a look at your bike. Do you want a loaner in the meantime? Either of you? Let’s have a look at what we’ve got.”

He led the way to some of the used bikes, Tristan glancing back at the service bay several times to the point of both Victoria and Rick noticing it. They spent the next five minutes looking over a few different cruisers and sport bikes that would do in a pinch, with Tristan fairly certain that he’d come back for one later. He’d left his helmet at Quinn’s, so he couldn’t take a bike for a spin—riding without one was illegal in Maryland.

“If you really want to see how one of them rides, Tristan,” began Rick, “you can sign up for the mountain tour we’re doing in a few days. We’re headed down Shenandoah Valley on Skyline Drive in the mountains, from Front Royal to Rockfish Gap. It’s a good overnight trip. We can do it in a day but we like to take our time.”

Victoria turned to Tristan. “We should do that. It’s a great ride.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Once, and I’m already signed up for this one. It’ll be a lot better with you along.”

“We can talk about it later if you want. You’ll need another bike. I’m sure yours won’t be ready by then.”

At that point, Larry returned and gave Rick two thumbs up, so Rick said, “Let’s go have a look and see.”

Chapter 10 – Surrender

Tristan, Victoria, and Rick headed into the service area, the smell of motor oil and exhaust assailing them. Cardboard boxes large enough to hold bikes were stacked in the far corner, a yellow forklift sat nearby, and several lifts had bikes up off the floor. Sweaty mechanics in greasy jeans and T-shirts were at work. Victoria’s bike stood off to one side on its kickstand. Aside from cosmetic damage, the front wheel and fork had been bent, the chain had a stress fracture, and the clutch lever had snapped. All had to be replaced.

Stopping beside the bike, Rick said, “It’s not too bad but it’ll take a week or so to get the parts in and fix it. We’ve got some of that now but not everything. It helps that we’re a dealer for your bike. We also need to get the insurance guy out here before doing any work.”

Victoria said, “Yeah, I talked to them yesterday so they should contact you.”

“Okay. They might’ve already and I just haven’t heard.”

Tristan wasn’t really listening to their conversation. He’d been in a bike service area just about every day for the past five years for his racing career. The familiarity made him smile, and seeing his girl beside him and comfortable there made him wish it had always been like this with her. Maybe things would've been different and they wouldn’t have lost five years. For all he knew, they could’ve had a kid or two by now.

He brushed the thought aside as he noticed the area around her bike was so clear of obstacles that even if another bike had stood here moments ago, it wouldn’t have been in their way. He glanced around as if just checking out the work area, but his eyes darted to every bike, noting their color, make, and model, and that none of them were his. Where had Rick’s new acquisition gone? A nagging feeling told him that the bike they’d moved was his, but he really had nothing to go on for that and the theory seemed a little crazy even to him. Even so, maybe it was time to ask about this idea of people selling spare parts from stolen bikes, albeit discreetly. He was curious even without his bike possibly being among them.

“Is there any way to get the parts quicker?” he asked Rick, who turned to him with eyebrows raised.

“I might know a guy.”

“Who?”

“It might cost a bit extra though. I can ask around if you’re in a hurry?”

Tristan nodded. He noticed how Rick ignored the question, which could mean either that the information really was none of Tristan’s business and Rick wasn’t obliged to provide it, or that the answer was “a guy who steals bikes.” Something about Rick’s demeanor suggested the latter, but Tristan conceded he’d never have thought that were it not for the talk with Ryan. Then again, the “I might know a guy” line had
underhanded
written all over it.

To keep Rick from wondering why he was asking, he remarked, “It would be good if Victoria could take her own bike on the mountain tour.”

“Okay. Let me see what I can dig up.”

Looking dubious, Victoria asked, “How much extra are we talking?”

“Depends on the part,” Rick said. “If the part isn’t local then it can cost more to get it here fast. Really depends. Your bike is a new model, though, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Okay, let us know what you find out.” Tristan put a hand on the small of Victoria’s back and began leading her to the exit almost abruptly, causing her to shoot him a look. They were unlikely to get any more out of Rick; with Victoria cutting in like that, the dealer had already turned the talk away from where Tristan wanted it to go.

“Will do,” Rick called after them. “You guys have a look around, and let me know if you want to take one of the bikes for a spin.”

“Okay, thanks.” Tristan led a frowning Victoria through the showroom, but when she started to ask what he was up to, he shook his head and led her outside. By the time they got to the car, she was scowling.

“What was all that about?” Victoria finally asked.