Chapter 1
Debbie
Like clockwork, he was back again Monday morning. He shut down the rumbling engine and leaned his motorcycle over on its stand. The miles of tattoos started to show as he unzipped his leather jacket.
I watched Tattoo Guy pull off his helmet and stretch his shoulders. It was the move he made every time he parked his bike here, and I still hadn’t tired of watching it.
“Your Romeo is here again,” Annie snickered next to me.
I turned away from the window and gave her my best side-eye. “Shut up.”
Sure, I’d checked him out—literally and figuratively—every time he’d come into Mama’s Minimart lately, but it wasn’t like he was my guy or anything. Since he paid with cash, I didn’t even know Tattoo Guy’s name and hadn’t been brave enough to say anything much while ringing up his purchases. Maybe tomorrow would be the day to ask his name, or why he liked jerky so much, or what the eagle tattoo meant, or…
The door chime sounded, bringing me back to the moment. I looked over in time to catch Tattoo Guy as he pushed open the glass door. He glanced up at the convex security mirror in the corner that let us keep an eye on the far aisles. He did this every time he came in, before looking toward the register, toward me. A cautious man.
That gave me a full two seconds to take him in unobserved.
The leather jacket was over his shoulder this afternoon, giving me a good view of the rippling muscles beneath his T-shirt. The man was built, and with his strong jawline, piercing pale blue eyes, and sandy blond hair, he deserved to be on the cover of one of the books I had in my backpack.
His gaze locked with mine for barely a second.
I averted my eyes. Had that been a smile forming on his lips? When I dared to look back, he was wandering the wall of refrigerated drinks along the far side.
Annie elbowed me. “Ask him this time.”
She’d been after me to ask Tattoo Guy for a ride on his bike. What she really meant was that I should start with the motorcycle and graduate to riding him. The thought was tempting. He looked rugged, powerful, dangerous—everything Willy hadn’t been. But then again, taking risks like that wasn’t my style.
Still, I’d watched Tattoo Guy since the first time he came in.
Annie was a good-enough friend to encourage me to take a run at him instead of going after him herself. And then there was her sometimes-boyfriend, Jordie, to be considered.
I grabbed a rag and started wiping off the glass counter in front of me. “Today’s not the right day.”
She leaned close. “If you don’t, I might have to.”
“What would Jordie say about that?” This was an “on” week with him, as far as I could tell.
She huffed. “You’re right. Today is a shitty day, so sunny and all. You should wait for a thunderstorm or maybe snow. Or maybe for Hell to freeze over.”
I pushed her away. “Go make yourself useful.”
Annie ambled down to the candy aisle.
A minute later, Tattoo Guy approached with his usual bag of beef jerky.
“Will that be all?” I asked in my cheeriest voice, hoping for more than his usual nod. The man wasn’t a talker.
He held up a finger. “Shhh…”
“What?”
He scowled and put a finger to his lips. Closing his eyes briefly, he sucked in a breath. He leaned over the counter, crooking his finger for me to move closer.
I did.
“The guy in back, in the brown shirt,” he whispered. “He’s hiding two beers behind his back. They think you won’t notice.”
I cocked my head, not sure I’d heard him right. He hadn’t been anywhere near the corner where the two construction guys stood.
“Trust me,” he whispered before standing straight again.
I brushed off the comment as weird, and asked again, “Will that be all?”
The two construction workers moved past the hot dogs and toward my register.
Tattoo Guy slid the beef jerky my way. “Hold this for me. I forgot something,” he said as he backed away.
The two guys came forward, and the one in the brown shirt put the beer bottle he held on the counter.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Naw, not today,” Brown Shirt replied with a smirk on his face.
The shorter one looked away. His eyes traveled to Annie in the corner, who leaned over, straightening the candy display.
I took the beer and scanned it. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”
Brown Shirt’s eyes widened.
I’d seen that look dozens of times before—when I caught high school kids trying to shoplift. I scanned the bottle two more times.
He slid his card into the reader without objection after I announced the total.
The two of them scurried out. Brown Shirt punched the other one in the shoulder, and they exchanged heated words I couldn’t hear through the glass. This Mama’s Minimart was closer to home than the original one in Fairfax, or the one in Reston where I’d started, but dealing with the shoplifting was a pain.
“How’d you know?” I asked Tattoo Guy when he returned.
He slid a KitKat bar my way on the counter. “Just heard ’em talking. Stealing’s not right.” Apparently, he was one of the honest ones, one of the good guys.
I lifted an eyebrow. I hadn’t seen Tattoo Guy anywhere near those two. “From over here?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He tapped his ear. “Good hearing.”
I rang up his total, and he paid by sliding a card through the reader this time.
Annie looked on from her corner of the store. She canted her head toward him, silently mouthing, “Ask him.”
“Thanks, Debbie.” His gaze lingered a bit on my chest before rising from my nametag to meet my eyes. Picking up his jerky, he gave me a full-on, megawatt smile with dimples to die for. They were cute, when everything else about him yelled rugged and dangerous. He slid the KitKat toward me. “For trusting me. Something sweet for a sweet girl.”
The heat of a three-alarm blush filled my cheeks. “No, I should be thanking you…” I let it hang there, hoping he’d finish it with his name.
“Luke,” he replied as he backed away.
The door chime sounded, and Officer Nolan, one of our regular police customers, entered. He stopped and looked over at the convex security mirror first thing, just as Luke always did.
Luke turned to look at the officer, and his dimples disappeared. “See ya,” he told me.
A second later, I was watching his ass saunter out the door in those tight jeans.
Outside, he shrugged on his leather jacket, added the helmet, and started the bike.
Annie returned and poked my side. “You should have asked him. You have to go out on a limb and take a risk sometimes. The worst that could happen is he says no. Big deal.”
“You’re right,” I told her, not really meaning it. “Next time.” I glanced back outside.
Luke saw me and did the one thing I’d wanted before he backed the bike toward the street. He waved.
I waved back.
Luke. It was a rugged name, a strong name.
I pulled into the drive at home after my shift. As usual for a Monday, I was the first one here. Reaching the porch, I came face to face with the ugly notice tacked beside the door. Shit. A tear threatened. I liked it here.