Revving the bike to let me know I must hold on for dear life, Theron Rebane carries me away from my mother with abrupt haste.
ChapterFour
Theron
She is the first woman I ever searched for.Aila brought out the hunter in me right from the start.This is so much more than our second chance.This is me coming back for a second helping.
I’ve never done this before.
Strangely enough, Aila doesn’t have any questions.It is my understanding that women like to fill a vacuum with conversation.But the ride back to the inn takes place in relative silence.The only sign of life that Aila gives is a small gasp when I hug one of the sharp corners without dropping my speed.
A quick inhalation of breath as gravity pulls us closer to the ground—and then she cuts the sound off.I am reminded of the night I first laid eyes on her.How brave she was to serve others as if it were a battle.A smile for regular clients.A hesitant appraisal for strangers.And a stern frown for those who had overstepped their mark before.
So sassy and brave.
Landslide passes by in a blur.I know every blade of grass on this tidal island.On a map, it might look like a lonely sandbank lurking in an off-shoot creek from the lake—and that’s the way we like it—but up close and personal, Landslide is more than the sum of its parts.
This is where I can operate in plain sight.
The chalet inn is lit up brighter than a Christmas tree.Aila turns to look at it as I slow down and we ride past.The Riders’ bikes are relegated to the back of the clubhouse, out of view of the inn’s guests.
Kicking the stand down and edging back, I fight the restless feeling I get when she releases the hug-hold she had around me.
Shaking back her hair, Aila hops off the bike.She’s smiling, but shy.
Shrugging out of my jacket so it will come as no surprise if my skin is cold, I find myself at a loss for words.
I’m new to all this.In all the long years of my existence, the only women I have willingly seen more than once are the ones on Landslide.And out of them, only Celia Heiner is still alive in the true definition of the word.
Fumbling, I drop my jacket and bump my head on the bike’s handle after bending down to pick it up.I think they call it being a klutz.
“My mom is going to go ballistic when she gets here, you realize.”Aila breaks the ice.
“My bike has an age limit, just like one of those movies with nudity, violence, and sss…”
I leave the word hanging.
Is Aila going to chew me out?In my experience, most young women feel a certain fondness for their mothers.
“Sex?”Aila smiles.I like her smile.A brief compression of dimples in her cheeks and suddenly her eyes are smiling, too.“No one under the age of eighteen?”
“Yep.”Moving closer, I put my arm over her shoulders.We begin walking to the side door of the inn together.Bright lights and the buzz of conversation beckon us inside.Music is playing in the background.One of Luna’s favorite tunes.I can’t resist adding something extra to my explanation.“And no one over the age of eighty.”
Ducking out from under my arm, Aila bends forward, doubled over with laughter.The sound of her giggles is so infectious, I start laughing, too.It feels good.I haven’t laughed out loud for four years.
Wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, she warns me.“Please don’t tell that joke to my mother.It would be a one-way ticket into her black book.”
I’m intrigued.Sounds like Aila is trying to share her special blend of dignity with her mother.Stepping aside, I let her enter ahead of me.
It must be close to nine-thirty at night, so the inn’s pub is pumping.Every local is here except for the Heiners.At their age, they have to go to bed early.Running the general store during the summer keeps them busy, and they ain’t going to see sixty-five again.
I wait for Aila’s reaction when she clocks that she’s one of only three women in the pub bar area.The rest are men.
“Reminds me of Harry’s Saloon.”Her remark is casual as she perches on one of the bar stools.“Is that why you were there that night?For the nostalgic vibes?”
Again, we laugh in unison together.It feels good.The discomfort I felt after knocking my head against the bike handle has gone.
Luna is at the end of the bar counter, giving Aila and me room to chat before coming to take a drinks order.I see her eyes dart over to us, appraising our body language.Her expression is enigmatic.
