Читать онлайн книгу «A Bride for Jericho Bravo» автора Christine Rimmer

A Bride for Jericho Bravo
Christine Rimmer
Falling for the rebel… After being jilted by her boyfriend, Marnie was determined never to stay in one place too long. But from the moment she arrived in Texas and clashed with sexy Jericho Bravo, she was finding all sorts of reasons to stay put. Too bad the rugged loner couldn’t say the same. Or could he?Jericho was making Marnie believe in second chances. Was the proud, wary rebel willing to risk his heart? Because he already owned hers…




A BRIDE FOR

JERICHO BRAVO
CHRISTINE RIMMER




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

About the Author
CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a salesclerk to a waitress. NOW that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.
Dear Reader,
After a seriously rocky start, Jericho Bravo has turned his life around. He’s healed the rift with his family and found honest work that suits him perfectly.
Marnie Jones was once a wild child. Not anymore. She flees to Texas in her battered old car with five hundred dollars to her name. Her goal: to heal her broken heart and to find the true self she somehow lost along the way.
Neither Marnie nor Jericho is looking for love. Especially not with each other. He’s a loner and the one thing she doesn’t need is a new man in her life.
But love has a funny way of popping up in the most unlikely places. And sometimes the last person a woman could ever see herself falling for turns out to be just the man for her.
Happy reading, everyone.
Yours always,
Christine Rimmer
For MSR, always.

Chapter One
It was a very bad day in a very bad week in what would no doubt turn into a really rotten month. Otherwise, Marnie Jones would never have stolen that chopper. Plus, there was Jericho Bravo. First, he scared her to death. And then he made her mad.
Really mad. And he did it at the end of her very bad day. His making her mad was the final straw, or so she told herself when she hot-wired that beautiful motorcycle.
If she hadn’t been feeling so crazy, so desperate and miserable, she might have been able to be more objective about the whole thing. She might have reminded herself that it wasn’t his fault that he had scared her silly. And when he made her mad, well, he was only telling the truth as he saw it.
But she was feeling crazy and desperate and miserable. That day, she was in no mood to be objective about anything.
The very bad day in question? It was April 1. So appropriate. On the day for fools, Marnie knew herself to be the biggest fool of all.
The day before, Wednesday, March 31, her life had imploded when Mark Drury broke up with her. Mark was not only her live-in lover of five years, but he was also her best friend in the world since childhood, her blood brother since the age of nine.
The house they shared in Santa Barbara belonged to him. So when he dumped her, she had nowhere to go and no best friend to talk to. She threw all her things in the back of her old black Camry and got out of there.
She started to go home—home being the tiny town of North Magdalene northeast of Sacramento, in the Sierras. But after about ten minutes behind the wheel, she realized that she simply couldn’t do it, couldn’t go back there. Couldn’t face the worry in her dad’s eyes, the tender sympathy her stepmother would offer, the endless advice of her crazy Grandpa Oggie. Couldn’t stand to be the one the whole town was talking about.
Yeah, she knew they would only be talking about her because they cared for her. But still. She couldn’t take the humiliation.
So instead of heading north, she went east. She had no idea why, no clue where she was going. Just somewhere that wasn’t Santa Barbara or North Magdalene.
Seven hours later, as she rolled into Phoenix, her destination became clear. She was going to San Antonio, going to her big sister, Tessa.
She kept driving. After thirteen hours on the road, she reached El Paso. It was getting dark. She got a burger and fries from a drive-through, found a cheap motel and checked in for the night.
She tried to sleep. Not happening. And her cell kept ringing. It was Mark. She didn’t answer, just let his calls go to voicemail and then deleted them without listening to them. She didn’t need to hear him say he only wanted to be sure that she was all right. She wasn’t all right. She didn’t think she would ever be all right again. And he, of all people, ought to know that.
At dawn, she dragged herself out of the motel bed and started driving.
She made it to San Antonio at ten past noon. Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling up in front of her sister’s new place, a gorgeous Spanish-style house in a very pricey neighborhood called Olmos Park.
Marnie’s big sister, notorious in North Magdalene for her bad luck with men, had finally found the guy for her. His name was Ash Bravo. Ash was killer-hot and he had lots of money. But what really mattered was that he was long-gone, over-the-moon in love with Tessa—as she was, with him. They’d been married for two years now and had recently moved from his house, in another high-priced area of San Antonio, to this one, which they’d chosen as a couple.
Marnie sat in the car for a while, thinking of how she probably should have called her sister first, given Tessa a little warning, at least. Somehow, she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to dial her sister’s number. There was too much to explain. Marnie hardly knew where to start.
Eventually, she shoved open her door, shouldered her purse and got out of the car. Her legs felt kind of rubbery and her head swam. She’d had nothing to eat since that greasy burger the night before. She shut the door and braced both hands on the dusty black roof of the Camry. Head drooping, she took a few slow, deep breaths as she waited for the light-headedness to pass.
When she looked up again, a skinny, fortyish, deeply tanned woman in cross-trainers, bike shorts and an exercise bra jogged past across the street. The woman frowned in Marnie’s direction. Marnie couldn’t really blame her. She knew she looked like hell and her car was old and dusty, the backseat packed with just about everything she owned. The skinny woman probably thought she was some homeless person.
Which, come to think of it, she was.
The realization brought a laugh to Marnie’s lips, a brittle, angry sound. The woman in the cross-trainers ran faster, quickly disappearing around the corner.
Marnie pulled herself up straight, turned and started up the long, winding front walk, which curved beneath the dappled shade of a pair of handsome pecan trees, their branches arching prettily to mesh like joined hands overhead. Attractive flower beds flanked the wide, red-tiled front step and the outer door was of iron lace. Marnie rang the bell.
A few moments later, the inner door swung inward. Tessa stood there, in jeans and a pretty gauze shirt. Her hazel eyes darkened. She sucked in a small, shocked gasp.
“Marnie …?”
“Hey.”
Tessa pushed open the outer door. “Marnie. What in the …?”
“I couldn’t make myself go home. And I didn’t know where else to go.”
Tessa did just the right thing then. She held out her arms.
By three that afternoon, Marnie still felt like crap. But marginally better crap.
Tessa had let her cry, listened to her long sad story, fed her lunch and given her a space to park her Camry in the five-car detached garage behind the house. She’d also helped Marnie carry her stuff along the walk that circled the pool to the guesthouse out in back. It was a cute little two-bedroom stone cottage, a much-smaller version of the main house, complete with a bright, galley-style kitchen and a nice view of the pool.
“Take a long, hot shower,” Tessa instructed after helping her put her things away. “And maybe a nap.”
“I could sleep straight through till tomorrow.”
“Dinner first. You need to eat.”
“You sound like Gina, you know that?” Regina Black Jones was their stepmother. She had married their father when Tessa was twelve and Marnie, nine.
Tessa laughed. “Gina was the best thing that ever happened to us.”
“I know. Regular meals. Rules. And a boatload of unconditional love.”
“We needed her then.” Just like I need you now. “Tessa?”
“Um?”
“Thank you.”
“Thanks are never necessary. I’m here, always. For you.” Tessa stroked her hair. “You’ll be okay.”
Marnie answered with more confidence than she felt. “I know.”
“A long, hot shower. And then rest. Dinner around seven or so. Just family, nothing fancy. You and me and Ash and Jericho.”
“Jericho. One of the brothers?” It was a big family. Ash had six brothers. And two sisters. And also a half sister named Elena.
Tessa was nodding. “Jericho is sixth-born. After Caleb, before Travis.”
“Ah.” Marnie had met Ash’s family at the wedding. But that was two years ago. There were a lot of Bravos and they all kind of blurred together in her mind.
Tessa cupped her face, kissed her on the cheek and left her alone.
Peeling off her road-wrinkled clothes as she went, Marnie headed for the bathroom. After her shower, she stretched out on the sofa, where she could look out the French doors at the gleaming pool and the main house beyond. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but sheer exhaustion had every nerve humming. And in spite of the big lunch Tessa had insisted she eat, she felt hollow inside.
Her cell rang. She grabbed her purse off the coffee table, fished out her phone and saw it was Mark. Again. He wasn’t going to stop calling until he knew she was safe.
With a sigh, she pushed the talk button and put it to her ear. “Do you mind? Leave me alone.”
“I just want to know that you’re all—”
“All right?” She made a hard, snorting sound. “Well, I’m not. But I’m safe. I’m at Tessa’s.”
“Tessa’s.” He sounded stunned. As if she’d caught a flight to the moon or something. “You went all the way to Texas.”
“Stop calling me. I mean it. I’m alive. I’m okay. And I’m none of your damn business. Ever again.”
“Marnie—”
“Leave me alone.”
“Marnie, I—”
“Say it. I mean it. Just say you will leave me alone.”
“I—”
“Say it, Mark!” She shouted the demand into the phone.
A silence. And then, at last, “All right. I’ll stop calling.”
“Good. Goodbye.” She disconnected before he could say any more. Then she powered the phone off and tossed it on the coffee table next to her purse.
She flopped back to the couch cushions and shut her eyes. She didn’t expect to sleep. But she did. Like a rock dropping into a bottomless well, darkness sucked her down.
A loud rumbling sound woke her.
For a moment, she thought maybe there was an earthquake.
But then, groggily, she remembered where she was: not California. Tessa’s. In San Antonio.
It all came flooding back, in total awfulness. Mark had dumped her. She’d fled to Texas …
The rumbling sound died away. Probably some motorcycle out on the street.
She grabbed her phone, powered it on and checked the time. Six-thirty. A half hour till dinner. So she got up, brushed her hair, put on some lip gloss, grabbed her purse and headed back over to the main house.
The charming rock path went both ways around the pool. For a little variety, she crossed around away from the garage that time, pausing to watch fat koi gliding beneath the surface in a pond near the far fence and to take comfort from the soothing sound of the small waterfall that gurgled over rough black rocks.
She went in through French doors to the kitchen, where the walls were a warm gold, the counters of brightly painted Spanish tile and the appliances chef-quality. Tessa’s old, nearly deaf bulldog, Mona Lou, was asleep in a dog bed in the corner. The dog got up, stretched and waddled over for a pat on the head. When she whined, Marnie opened the door again and let her out into the backyard.
Something was cooking. It smelled really good. Her stomach grumbled, so she grabbed a banana from the big fruit bowl on the counter.
Munching the banana, looking for Tessa and Ash, she left the kitchen and wandered through the empty family room, where Tessa’s white cat Gigi was sleeping on the couch. Gigi lifted her head and squinted at Marnie as she went by.
Everything was so quiet. Had they left suddenly, for some reason? She paused at the curving iron-railed staircase in the foyer and glanced up toward the top floor, but didn’t mount the stairs. Maybe Ash and Tessa were up there, sharing a private moment before dinner.
The doors to the study stood open. She finished off the last of her banana, set her purse on the entry table and poked her head in there. It was a masculine refuge, with a beautiful old desk and credenza of the same dark, rich wood and tall, carved mahogany bookcases rising to the cove ceiling. Still wondering where everyone had gone, she turned for the living room across the foyer, her footfalls echoing softly on the hardwood floor.
She didn’t see the man until she’d reached the open archway that led into the large, bright room. He stood over by the fireplace with his back to her, his long, dark brown hair tied in a ponytail with a strip of leather, wearing a grayT-shirt, faded, torn jeans and heavy boots.
Even from behind, he looked menacing. He was at least six-three, with a neck like a linebacker and massive tattooed arms straining the sleeves of his T-shirt. She could even see the pointed black edges of a tattoo rising out of his collar at the nape of his neck.
Maybe it was the silence of the beautiful house, the unexpected absence of Tessa and Ash. Maybe it was the recent collapse of her life as she had come to know it. Maybe it was his size, the sense of power and strength and danger that seemed to radiate off him. Maybe it was simply her surprise at seeing him there, looking so out of place in her sister’s pretty, upscale living room.
Whatever the reason, a sudden terror filled her. An icy shiver cut a frozen path of mindless fear down her spine, along her thighs, outward over the surface of her arms.
He turned toward her. She saw his face, which was surprisingly handsome for someone so large and scary. He opened his mouth to speak.
She still had the banana peel clutched in her hand. She threw it at him and started screaming.
Feet on the upper floor, running.
She whirled to see her sister and Ash coming at her down the iron-railed staircase.
“Marnie,” Tessa cried. “Marnie, what is it? What’s wrong?”
In seconds they were both at her side. By then, she had stopped screaming. Tessa grabbed her and pulled her close.
She huddled against her sister, already beginning to realize that the man by the fireplace wasn’t an intruder after all. If he had been, he would have done something other than stand there and glare at her.
Then Ash spoke to him. “Jericho, what’s going on?”
Jericho.
The brother. The brother who was coming to dinner. She should have known that, shouldn’t she?
“What’s going on?” The big man echoed Ash’s question in a voice every bit as deep and rough as she would have expected. “How the hell would I know what’s going on? She saw me and she started screaming.”
Marnie let out a small whimper of abject embarrassment. “Oh, God …”
He held up the banana peel. “She threw this at me. Luckily, I ducked.” He kind of squinted at her. She saw humor in his green eyes—and anger, too. He was trying not to let the anger show. But she recognized it. He didn’t like that she’d mistaken him for some kind of thug.
She pulled away from Tessa and made herself stand up straight. “I, um, I’m really sorry. The house was so quiet. And … you surprised me, that’s all.”
“Yeah?” He came closer. The look in his eyes said she better not shrink away.
She didn’t, even though instinct had the skin at the back of her neck pulling tight. He was proud, she knew that, could read it in his eyes, in the way he carried himself. The kind of guy you shouldn’t cross. Or embarrass. She forced a wobbly smile and confessed, “It wasn’t you. It was me. I’ve had a … rough couple of days …”
He reached out. She was very careful not to flinch when he took her hand in his big, rough paw. He slapped the banana peel into it.
“Uh. Thanks,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
And then Tessa started talking, urging them fully into the living room. She took Marnie’s hand, but only to whisk the banana peel away. Ash gave her a hug and said he was happy to see her, then he went to the wet bar on the inside wall of the big room to pour margaritas from the icy pitcher waiting there. He gave them each a glass of the frozen concoction. Except for Tessa. She had sparkling water.
They all took seats. Marnie got a wing chair to herself. She leaned back in it and sipped her drink and tried to think of something interesting to say.
Nothing came to her, so she was quiet. The other three talked, about how good the house looked. About the family company, BravoCorp, of which Ash was CEO. About Jericho’s business, San Antonio Choppers, which he ran in partnership with somebody named Gus. He built custom motorcycles, she learned.
When she thought he wasn’t looking, she studied him and tried to remember meeting him at Tessa and Ash’s wedding. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him before. Maybe he hadn’t been there. Because really, he wasn’t the kind of guy a person forgets.
Once, as she sneaked a glance at him, he caught her at it. He looked straight at her then, green eyes dark and deep as a mountain lake where no one ever goes. Cold. Wild. Untouched.
Marnie blinked first. She turned away and found her sister looking at her. Tessa smiled. A tender smile—and a worried one. Then Ash said something. And Jericho said something. The conversation continued without her.
After the margaritas, Tessa led them to the dining room, where the table was set for four. She brought in the food from the kitchen and Ash opened wine. Only the men drank it. Tessa was sticking with sparkling water. And the last thing Marnie needed was to get blasted on top of everything else.
Most of the conversation centered on some big charity event that was set for the first of May. Jericho was offering one of his custom bikes to be auctioned off for the cause. Ash seemed very pleased over this—even excited. Jericho only shrugged a giant shoulder and said he was glad to help.
Marnie hardly said a word. Encased in her own private cloud of misery, she tuned out the others and picked at the excellent dinner.
Dessert came. Some sort of slippery, cinnamon-flavored flan thing, really good, like the rest of the meal had been. She ate a few bites of it, to be polite.
Finally, after what seemed like a long and excessively grim lifetime, the meal was over. The men went to Ash’s study and Marnie helped Tessa clean up—or tried to.
“Leave it for now,” Tessa said, when they had carried the plates to the kitchen. “The housekeeper will take care of it all in the morning, anyway. You go ahead to bed, get some rest.”
Marnie slowly shook her head. “I feel really bad about Ash’s brother….”
Tessa reached out and touched the side of her face with a tender hand. “Don’t. You’re tired and on edge. You need a good night’s sleep.”
“I think he hates me now.”
“Of course he doesn’t.”
“And I embarrassed Ash. And you.”
“Marnie.”
“What?”
“Go to bed. It’ll all look better in the morning.”
She blew out a hard sigh. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right.” She got a last hug from her sister and left as she had entered, through the French doors, going around by the pond again, not as comforted by the chuckling fountain as she had been earlier.
In the larger of the guesthouse bedrooms, she put on her sleep shirt and trudged into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She really looked awful, bags under her bloodshot eyes, her skin kind of splotchy. Way too pale. Even her hair seemed depressed. It hung limp as a dirty brown curtain to her shoulders.
She made herself not look at the mirror again as she squirted toothpaste on her toothbrush and cleaned her teeth. Then it was back to the bedroom and the nice, fresh white sheets on the comfy bed. She climbed in and pulled the covers over her and shut her eyes.
And remembered that she’d left her purse in the house.
Why had she taken it over there, anyway? She had no idea. She hadn’t needed it then—and she didn’t really need it now.
But then, it did have her phone in it. What if someone called her? Other than Mark. What if she needed to make a call?
True, there was a landline on the nightstand—and no, she couldn’t think of a single person she wanted to call. And yet …
Fine. She would get the damn purse.
She shoved back the covers, pulled her jeans back on under the sleep shirt and stuck her feet in a pair of flip-flops. That time she went around in front of the garage to get to the back door, so she saw Jericho’s chopper parked in the turnaround area between the house and the garage. It was beautiful, big and black with metal-flake cobalt-blue trim and shiny chrome. Even in the shadows of twilight the gorgeous thing gleamed, its stretched front forks looking so dangerous—and fast.
The sight of it made her throat clutch, brought a sharp pang of longing for home, where her dad ran the local garage, had since she was a kid. Sometimes bikers would bring their choppers in when something went wrong during a mountain ride.
Once, before she and Mark started dating, when he was only her blood brother and very best friend, one of those bikers had taken her for a ride. It was thrilling and scary, rounding sharp mountain turns, the wind tearing at her, blowing her hair out from under her borrowed helmet, as the bike picked up speed.
She remembered the biker’s laughter, blown back to her on the wind, the smell of road dust and pine forest all around, the engine roaring in her ears, vibrating through her body, making her feel a little afraid, stunningly alive. And utterly free.
What happened to you? Mark’s voice. Filling her head, saying all the cruel things he’d said yesterday morning. Marnie, I hardly know you anymore. You used to take chances. You used to be willing to rise to any challenge, the bravest girl I ever knew. Where did that girl go? I think you need to find out. Marnie, I think that you and me, we’re not meant to be. Not in this way. I think you need to ask yourself. Where is your spark?
Shut up, Mark.
She shook herself and turned away from the beautiful bike, toward the main house again.
Tessa wasn’t in the kitchen. The dishes they’d brought in from the dining room waited on the counter, just as they’d left them. Marnie went through the family room where the white cat still slept and down the hall to the foyer to get her purse from the entry table.
The doors to the study were open. She could hear voices in there, male voices: Ash and his brother. She would have to cross the open doorway to get her purse. The thought of doing that, of having the two men see her and wonder what she was doing wandering around the main house without Tessa, made her nervous—which only proved Mark was right about her. She was scared of her own damn shadow.
Where had her brave self gone?
As she hovered there at the foot of the stairs, admitting how pitiful and silly she was being, she heard Jericho’s rough voice, painfully clear, from inside the study.
“No, man. I mean really. You probably ought to get her to a shrink or something.”
Ash said, “She’ll be fine. She’s had a rough couple of days, that’s all.”
“She didn’t say a word through dinner. Just sat there, staring. Didn’t you notice?”
“Rico. Come on.”
“She got a drug problem, maybe?”
“Her boyfriend dumped her and she drove all the way here from Santa Barbara. She’s beat and her life’s in chaos. And you scared her.”
“I didn’t do crap. I was just standing there. That woman is not okay, I’m telling you. She needs—”
Marnie didn’t stick around to hear what she needed—let alone, to get her purse. Her cheeks burning and her heart pounding hard and fast with shame and fury, she whirled to go back the way she had come, pausing only to yank off her flip-flops so neitherAsh nor his bigmouth butthead of a brother would hear her retreat.
Barefoot, clutching her flip-flops in her fist, she took off down the hall, racing through the family room and the kitchen and, at last, out the French doors to the backyard. Once outside in the gathering dark, she stopped and sucked in a few deep breaths of the cool night air.
The deep breaths didn’t help much. Her heart still knocked against her ribs like it wanted to break right through the wall of her chest. Her cheeks still flamed with humiliation. She started running again, not quite so fast now, jogging back the way she had come.
The chopper was still waiting there, chrome shining, metal flake blue giving off a kind of sparkle even in the growing darkness. She slowed as she approached it and then veered toward it instead of running on by. A helmet waited on the seat.
In her head, Jericho’s voice now warred with Mark’s.
She got a drug problem, maybe?
What happened to you?
You probably ought to get her to a shrink or something.
You used to take chances.
That woman is not okay, I am telling you.
… willing to rise to any challenge. The bravest girl I ever knew.
… didn’t say a word through dinner.
I think you have to ask yourself …
Just sat there, staring …
Where is your spark?
Marnie put on her flip-flops.
Her spark? Mark wanted to know what had happened to her spark?
Well, maybe she’d just show him. Maybe she would show them all, on Jericho’s fancy bike. Maybe she would take that chopper for a nice, long ride.
Yeah, okay. She knew it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
It was not only dangerous, it was also grand theft.
Where is your spark?
She’d learned a thing or two back in North Magdalene, in her dad’s garage. Like how to start an engine without a key.
The job required something to pry with. So she hustled into the garage, flip-flops slapping concrete as she went, and got a screwdriver from the tool kit she kept in her trunk. Once she had that, she ran back outside. She stuck the screwdriver in a pocket, grabbed the helmet and put it on. It was too big, but she tightened the strap as much as she could.
Squeezing the right brake lever to avoid any surprise wheelies, she straddled the bike and eased it upright between her legs. From atop the beautiful machine, it was a long way down those front forks to the front wheel.
In fact, the bike seemed bigger, now she was straddling it. Really big. And really dangerous. Even if she could get it started, the thing weighed more than she did and it would be a stretch for her feet to reach the pegs. It was way too much bike for her to handle….
She shut her eyes tight and called up Mark’s words in her mind.
Where is your spark?
When she opened her eyes again, she was ready. She was going to do it. She would not wimp out.
Using her heel, she guided the side stand up. She put the bike in neutral, released her grip on the brake and walked it around so it faced the driveway on the side of the house.
Then she turned the fuel valve to the on position and used her screwdriver to pry off the metal ignition cap, revealing the battery and ignition wires.
After that, it was so simple. She stuck the screwdriver in one back pocket and the ignition cap in the other and she twisted those wires together.
The big engine roared to life. She turned on the lights, pressed the clutch, shifted into gear and eased the clutch out as she gave it gas.

Chapter Two
“Did you hear that?” Jericho frowned at his brother.
The sudden roar began to travel. It rumbled along the side of the house, back to front.
“Sounds like your bike,” Ash said, looking puzzled.
Jericho glanced over his brother’s shoulder, out the window that faced the front of the house, just in time to see Tessa’s crazy sister rolling off down the street under the golden light of the streetlamps. She was riding his bike.
He said, “Your sister-in-law just stole my bike.”
Ash looked at him like he was the one with a screw loose.
Jericho decided not to argue. “I need to borrow a car.”
“Rico …”
“A car, Ash. Now.”
Ash let out a weary sigh and fished a set of keys from his pocket. “The Mercedes. First door on the end, by the fence.”
It took a few minutes to get to the Mercedes, get it started, get the garage door up and get rolling. That was a few minutes too long, as far as Jericho was concerned.
By the time he reached the street, Tessa’s disturbed sister was long gone. He rolled down all the windows so he could hear the bike if he got anywhere near it and he turned the car in the direction she’d been headed when she passed in front of Ash’s study.
At the corner, a T intersection, he took a wild guess and went right, figuring a rider unfamiliar with a big bike would take the easy turn, given a choice. After that, he went straight until the fork in the road, where he veered to the right again and tried not to think about the damage that could be done to an expensive piece of machinery with a crazy woman riding it.
And what about the crazy woman herself? What could happen to her was even scarier. At least she’d been wearing his helmet when she drove past the front window. If she ended up eating pavement, she might break every bone in her skinny little body—but just maybe she wouldn’t kill herself.
He kept going, ears tuned for the bike’s distinctive sound. As he turned the circle around a doughnut intersection where five streets came together, he heard the familiar rumble.
From there, he just followed the sound.
He caught up with her as she turned—right again—onto the street that circled the park. She wasn’t going very fast, which was really good news. Plus, the street was essentially deserted. Two pickups went past going the opposite direction, headlights cutting the thickening darkness. But no vehicles blocked the space between the Mercedes and the bike.
Once he found her, it was simple. He got a bit too close, showing her some wheel, and she guided the bike nearer to the curb, wobbling a little as she went, to let him pass.
But he didn’t pass. He just got up parallel with her and drove along at a matching crawl. Any slower and she’d kill that big engine. In fact, how she’d managed not to kill it before then was a mystery to him.
She glanced over, her face all pinched and pissed off inside his too-big helmet. And she saw it was him. The surprise on her face might have been funny, if he hadn’t been more than a little freaked that she would hit the gas and lose control.
But the fates were kind. The sight of him had her easing off the throttle rather than gunning it. The bike sputtered and died. She rolled toward the shoulder. When the bike stopped, she put her feet down. He pulled the Mercedes in behind her.
Leaving the car’s engine running and the headlights on to see by, he was out the door and heading for her as she lowered the stand and climbed off. She undid the helmet strap. Her light brown hair caught static and crackled when she lifted the helmet free of her head.
He reached her. Moving slowly and carefully, she set the helmet on the seat. And then she turned and met his eyes. He had all kinds of things he was going to yell at her, all kinds of names he was going to call her.
But those big blue eyes looked so sad and so lost, he forgot about how he thought she was crazy. He even let go of the proud rage she had stirred in him when she took him for a burglar in his own brother’s house.
It seemed only natural. Just to hold out his arms. She stared at him for a moment, a small space of time that somehow became endless. In the headlight’s hard glare, her expression showed surprise. And then, in an instant, acceptance.
With a heavy sigh, she sagged against him. He gathered her in.
A couple more cars went by as they stood there, embracing in the wash of bright light. She hooked her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. A soft, wordless sound escaped her. He felt the warmth of her breath, easing its way through the cloth of his shirt, touching his flesh.
And then she pulled back. He had the strangest urge to keep holding on. But he tamped that urge down. He let her go and she stepped away.
She hung her head. “I didn’t even have the guts to go fast.”
“And that’s a good thing.” He spoke sternly. “It would have been a seriously bad idea to do that.”
“Yeah. I guess.” She pulled something from her back pocket and held it out. It was the bike’s ignition cap.
He took it from her, suddenly remembering that her father was a mechanic. He’d met Patrick Jones at Ash’s wedding. “Your dad runs a garage, right?”
“Uh-huh. He taught me a thing or two about engines. Enough to make me dangerous, I guess.” She was still looking down, subdued now.
He just didn’t get it. “I gotta ask. What’s this about? Why would you steal my bike? What’s the point?”
She shook her head. “It’s a long story.”
“Try me.”
“My boyfriend dumped me.”
“I heard. I’m sorry. But … why take it out on me?”
She sent him a narrowed glance, and then looked at the pavement some more. “Because … I’m insane and possibly a drug addict?”
“What?”
She looked up again, a flash of anger in her eyes and then, as before, back down. “I heard what you said to Ash.”
He winced. But still, she shouldn’t have been listening in. “You were eavesdropping.”
“No, I wasn’t. It just … happened. I left my purse on the front hall table. Don’t ask me why, I don’t why. But when I realized I’d left it there, I went back to get it. I heard you guys in the study, talking. I knew I had to go past the open door to get to the table. I knew you would see me, and I would feel foolish to have wandered off without my purse—the family idiot on the loose without a keeper. It would be just one more proof that I’m a can short of a six-pack, you know? So I hesitated. That was when I heard what you said.”
Regret tugged at him. “Look, I really am sorry. I can see now I had it all wrong about you.”
“Yeah, well. It seriously ticked me off at the time. But now that I’ve cooled off a little, I guess I have to admit that I completely get why you would think I’m out of my mind.”
“So this, taking my bike, was payback?”
Still staring at the pavement, she shrugged. “In a totally wussy, pitifully ineffective sort of way, yeah.”
He touched her strong little chin with his finger, guiding it up so that she was looking at him again. “We can call it even from here. Start fresh. How ‘bout that?”
She made a disbelieving sound. “You sure you don’t want to have me arrested?”
He held her gaze. “It’s tempting, but I’ll pass.”
“Maybe a little time in jail would do me good,” she said half-jokingly, mocking herself.
And suddenly, he wanted to shake her. She didn’t have a clue about what happened behind bars.
His exasperation must have shown on his face. Her eyes widened. “Yikes. What did I say this time?”
Gruffly, he advised, “You don’t want to go to jail. Take my word on that.”
“Uh. Okay.”
He gentled his tone. “So, you think you can drive Ash’s Mercedes back to the house without running into anything?”
She hung her head again. “I could. If I could only find my way there.”
He understood. “You’re lost.”
“Oh, yeah. In more ways than one.”
He felt a surge of something that could only be called protectiveness. It surprised him. He wasn’t the protective type. “Here.” He took her small, soft hand, turned it over and put Ash’s keys in it. “You’re gonna be fine.”
“Oh, I hope so.”
“Just follow me.”
Marnie felt a little better about everything as she followed Jericho through the dark, quiet streets of Tessa’s neighborhood. Her very, very bad day was looking up a little.
Yeah, she’d let her whacked-out emotional state get the better of her and screwed up royally, stealing Jericho’s bike like that. But somehow, it had worked out all right. She even had a strange feeling she might end up calling Jericho a friend.
Who would have guessed that might happen?
Life was no rose garden. But it could surprise you in a good way now and then.
Even in the dark, she recognized Tessa’s street when they reached it. And she wasn’t far behind when Jericho turned his bike into the driveway beside Tessa’s house.
Tessa and Ash were waiting on the front step. Ash had his arm around her and she huddled close to him. The headlights of the Mercedes swept over them and Marnie saw that her sister’s face was pale and drawn with worry.
Way to go, Jones.
Guilt tightened her stomach and made her feel crappy all over again. She really needed to get her act together. Making Tessa suffer for her erratic behavior was not the way to treat her loyal, generous, loving big sister. Tessa would do anything for her and she knew it. She needed to start showing a little consideration and respect.
Things got worse in the house. Ash and Tessa were there in the kitchen when Marnie and Jericho came in through the glass doors.
“Marnie!” Tessa’s relief was painfully evident. “I’m so glad you’re all right….” She started to come to her.
Ash held her back with a hand on her shoulder. His blue eyes were dark with fury. Marnie realized she’d never seen him angry before. But he was now—angry at her. “What is the matter with you? You had your sister scared to death.”
“Ash, don’t …” Tessa gave him a pleading look. “It’s okay. She’s okay.”
Ash was not pacified. He pinned Marnie with an unforgiving glare. “You’re family. That means you’re welcome in this house. But you damn well better not pull any more stunts like this one tonight, or there is going to be big trouble between you and me.”
Marnie felt his harsh words like blows. They were true words. And that made them hurt all the more. She opened her mouth to say she was so sorry and she would never do anything like that again.
But Tessa spoke first, her gentle voice soothing. “Ash. Come on.” She turned to Marnie, her eyes moist with tears. “He worries about me. Please don’t take offense.”
Marnie let out a cry. “I don’t. Of course, I don’t. He’s absolutely right.”
Ash nodded. “You better believe I am.”
Jericho stepped in then. “Come on, Ash. Dial it back. She knows she did wrong.”
Ash shifted his furious gaze to his brother. “What? Now you’re defending her? What’s up with that?”
Marnie cleared her throat. “We, um, we came to an understanding, Jericho and me. He still thinks I’m weird—but not crazy or on drugs.”
Jericho explained, “She overheard us talking in the study.”
“Talking about what?” Tessa demanded.
Ash answered reluctantly, “Jericho was saying that maybe she needed professional help.”
Jericho snorted. “I wasn’t nearly that diplomatic about it.”
“Oh, no …” Tessa stared at her pityingly.
Marnie shrugged and looked down at the floor. Since Jericho had caught up with her on his bike, she’d done a lot of looking down. “I did overhear what Jericho said. And I was a little crazy. But I’m pulling it together, as of now.” She raised her head, straightened her spine, and made herself meet her brother-in-law’s still-angry gaze. “I’m past the nervous breakdown phase. I swear I am.”
Ash gave her a long once-over. Finally, he nodded. “Well, all right, then. Sorry for jumping down your throat.” He pulled Tessa closer and pressed a kiss to her temple.
She nudged him in the side. “You went a little overboard, you know?”
“Yeah,”Ash admitted. “Maybe. But I don’t like to see you freaked out, especially now, with the baby coming.”
Marnie wondered if she’d heard right. “Uh. The baby?”
Jericho let out a low chuckle.
Tessa sighed.
Ash’s brows drew together. “You didn’t tell her.”
Tessa sent him a weary glance. “I was waiting till she at least had a good night’s sleep. But so much for that.”
Marnie groaned. “That’s right. You didn’t have even one margarita, just to be sociable. And no wine. Only sparkling water. Am I oblivious or what?”
Tessa eased out of Ash’s protective embrace. “You have a lot on your mind.”
Jericho said, “Hey, Ash. Walk me out.”
Marnie sent him a grateful look. “Thanks, Jericho. For everything.”
“Later.” One corner of his mouth twitched in what could almost be called a smile as he turned again for the French doors.
When the men were gone and the sisters were alone, Marnie grabbed Tessa in a long, tight hug. “I can hardly believe it. A baby. My sister’s having a baby….” She took Tessa by the shoulders and held her away enough to look up into her sweet face. “When are you due?”
“Late October.”
“You’re going to be an amazing mother, you know that?”
Tessa’s cheeks flushed. It was good to see some color back in them. “I’m going to give it my best shot.”
“I’m so sorry I scared you. Never, ever again.”
Tessa’s eyes gleamed. “Well, at least if you could try and wait until after the baby’s born …”
“It’s a promise.” She caught both of Tessa’s hands. “You were always on my side—well, except when we were little. Then you tried to run my life.”
Tessa looked suddenly prim. It was a look she used to wear a lot when she was a kid, back when Marnie would constantly razz her, calling her Saint Teresa. “You were a wild child,” Tessa said. “You used to swear like a sailor on shore leave, remember? And you were always running away, freaking everybody out….”
Marnie felt her shoulders slump. “Looks like I’m up to my old tricks, huh? Only minus the wild part. Somewhere I lost track of that—of my wild side. Lately, I’m about as wild as a stale slice of white bread.”
Tessa pulled her close again, whispered, “You’re still wild at heart. You know you are.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
“You are.”
Marnie couldn’t help asking, hopefully, “You think?”
“I know.” Outside, Jericho’s chopper roared to life. The sisters were quiet as the rumbling moved along the driveway and then faded away down the street. Then Tessa spoke again. “I’m so glad you and Jericho seem to have worked out your differences.”
“I hated him at first.”
“No kidding.”
“But you know, I can see now that he’s an okay guy after all. A really good guy, actually.”
“He’s got a lot of heart. And in the past few years, he’s turned his life around.”
Marnie wondered what exactly that meant.
But before she could ask Tessa about it, Ash came in. Marnie apologized again for everything.
Ash said he wanted to let bygones be bygones. “I’m glad you came to us. And I meant it when I said you’re welcome to stay as long as you want to.”
Marnie told them good night and went back to the guesthouse, where she drew a bath and sank gratefully into it, sighing in pleasure as she let the hot water ease all her tensions away.
Things could be worse, she was thinking. And then she laughed at her own sudden optimism. Her life, after all, was still a great big mess. But somehow, she felt better about it.
It wasn’t even forty-eight hours since the breakup, but she was already beginning to see that her relationship with Mark really hadn’t been that good for her. In the years they were together, she had slowly relinquished her life to him, until she lived in his shadow.
His friends became her friends. His world, hers. He had a big trust fund set up for him by his dad. And he also made a lot more money than she ever would. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to just stop working, to let him support her. After all, her jobs never brought in much anyway.
Without Mark to pay the bills, she had almost nothing to call her own.
But there was a bright side. All of a sudden, she was nobody’s shadow. She’d stepped into the light. She could see her life clearly now. Too bad what she saw wasn’t all that great.
Mark had offered her money “to hold her over,” when he told her they were through. She had proudly refused him, which had seemed really noble at the time—but was actually kind of stupid, when you got right down to it. Bottom line, she was on her own with five hundred dollars in her checking account. She had two years of junior college and a hodgepodge of subsistence-level work experience to recommend her to a prospective employer.
But she could get crazy all over again if she started dwelling on her chances of finding a decent job with her minimal skills in a not-so-great economy. She closed her eyes and let her body float in the cooling bathwater and tried to turn her wayward mind to soothing things.
For some reason, her thoughts drifted to Jericho. She could see him now, behind the dark screen of her shuttered eyelids, in the hard glare of the Mercedes’ headlights, when he caught up with her on his bike.
He’d held out his arms to her.
It was the last thing she’d expected him to do.
But he had done it.
And somehow, that moment—when his big, tattooed arms closed around her—that was the turning point. That was when she knew: in time, she was going to be all right.
The world had simple kindness in it after all. How strange that a big, scary biker guy like Jericho Bravo had ended up being the one to make her see that.

Chapter Three
“Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay a few weeks?” Marnie asked the next day.
It was after nine and Ash had gone to work. Marnie and Tessa were sitting at the table in the kitchen, the morning sun pouring in through the glass panes of the French doors, Tessa with a cup of herbal tea and Marnie with her third mug of coffee. Mona Lou, the bulldog, was curled up in her doggy bed nearby.
Tessa said, “The guesthouse is yours for as long as you want it. And Ash and I discussed it some more, last night after you left and we—”
“Don’t tell me. He said he wished I would go away and never come back, but since he’d told me I could stay, he felt honor-bound to stick by his word.”
“Oh, stop. He said no such thing. Now, will you let me finish?”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Well, we were talking about your situation and we got to discussing the money thing.”
Marnie shrugged. “You want me to pay rent? That’s reasonable.”
Tessa set her cup in the saucer with a sharp clink. “Of course not.”
“Tessa, it’s fair. I don’t mind at all.”
“You are not paying us rent.”
“Tessa …”
“I don’t want to hear any more about that.”
“Okay, okay.” Marnie put up both hands. “Since you insist, I’ll be more than happy to stay in your guesthouse for free. And if you weren’t talking about my paying rent, then …?”
“Look. Do you need money? If you do, just say so. We would be only too happy to—”
“No. Thanks. But no, thanks.”
“Don’t be so proud.”
“I’m not.” She rethought that. “Well, okay. I am. Pride’s about all I have left at this point.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Tessa insisted. “Don’t make it one. If you’re planning on staying for a while, you’re bound to need a little cash to tide you over. ”
“I have a little cash.” Very little cash, as a matter of fact. “Also, I’m planning to earn my way while I’m here.”
Her sister gave her a disapproving look and then asked, with her mouth pinched up, “A job?”
“That’s right. I’m sort of a Jane-of-all-trades, after all. I’m sure I can find something. Did you know that I was even a short-order cook once?”
Tessa was still frowning. “You want to flip burgers?”
“I want a paycheck for the time I’m here.”
“But … there’s no need to rush into anything. Maybe you should, you know, take it easy for a week or so at least. Relax. Take some time off.”
“Tessa.” Marnie gave her a patient look. “You so don’t get it. I’ve had time off. The past five years since I’ve been with Mark, I’ve hardly worked at all.”
“But if you—”
“Tessa.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t go all Saint Teresa on me. Please.”
Tessa put on her most innocent expression. “I would never try to tell you what to do.” As if she hadn’t just done exactly that.
But Marnie didn’t take offense. She knew that Tessa was only being bossy out of love. “Well.” Marnie sent her sister a fond smile. “Then we understand each other.”
Tessa got her pinch-mouthed look again. But at least she didn’t say anything more.
Ash had left the morning paper on the table. Marnie picked it up and flipped it to the want ads. What she saw there sent a little shiver down her spine.
It also made her smile. “Speaking of jobs. What do you think of that?” Marnie set down the paper and pointed.
The ad read:
Temporary Office Manager Sought
Busy motorcycle shop: repair and custom
Familiarity with Word, Excel and general office experience required. Past experience in car or motorcycle repair a plus.
Contact Gus, San Antonio Choppers (212) 555–2873
Tessa’s nod was beyond reluctant. “Yeah. So?”
“Why only temporary?”
“The woman who runs the office is going on maternity leave—and you’re not thinking of going to work for Jericho, are you?”
“Why not?” Marnie laughed. “You don’t think he’ll hold it against me that I stole his bike, do you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you know you were thinking it.”
“You’re serious. You want to work in a motorcycle shop?” Tessa couldn’t believe it. But then, she’d never hung around the North Magdalene Garage in the old days, helping their dad, like Marnie used to do. To Tessa, a car was for transportation, period. And a motorcycle … well, she might admire the art and technical skill that went into Jericho’s choppers, but she clearly didn’t find them all that intriguing.
Marnie did. “Yeah. I think it might be interesting. And it just so happens that I have experience in car repair.”
“Working for Dad, you mean.”
“I also know Word and Excel. More or less. And I worked in an office. Once. Accounts payable and receivable. It was really boring.”
Tessa sipped her tea and wore her best I-am-staying-out-of-it look.
Marnie reached across and patted her arm. “Come on. Be fair. Think about it. Jericho is my brother-in-law. And we’re on good terms—as of now, anyway. And the job sounds kind of interesting. Plus, it’s temporary and I’m looking for something temporary. It could be just what I need.”
Tessa set down her cup and beamed her most beatific smile. “Did I utter a word of objection?”
“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face.”
“But did I say anything?”
“All right, fine. No. You didn’t. You’re a model of total non-bossiness.”
“Thank you.”
“Gus is Jericho’s partner in the shop, right?”
“That’s right,” Tessa said. “Gus owned the shop originally. And he and Jericho go way back. He let Jericho keep his first bike there, at the shop, while he was in prison.”
Marnie almost choked on her coffee. “Wait. What? Somebody went to prison?”
“I thought I told you that. Jericho used to steal cars. He would sell them to some guys who parted them out to repair shops. He got caught and did five years for grand theft auto.”
“Whoa. Wow. When?”
Tessa shook her head. “I could have sworn I told you all about this.”
“Tessa. When?”
“He was young. Twenty, I think. That was ten years ago. He did those five years and he’s been out for about five more. But right after his release, he got arrested down in Mexico for drug dealing. Gabe got him out of that one.”
Marnie remembered Gabe from the wedding—tall, well-dressed, slick. Really good-looking. “Gabe’s the family lawyer, right?”
“That’s right. And as it turned out, the thing in Mexico was a bad rap, a complete setup.”
“Jericho wasn’t really dealing?”
“No. It was just some trumped-up charge because he talked back to a policeman down there. Gabe got it thrown out.”
“So that was what you meant last night, when you said that Jericho has turned his life around …” Marnie thought of the spark of fury in his eyes when she’d joked about his sending her to jail for stealing his bike. His reaction made a lot more sense now.
Tessa explained, “Ash says Jericho was always the rebel of the family, the one with no interest in doing anything his father wanted him to do, ever.”
Davis. That was their father’s name. Marnie vaguely remembered the older man: thick, white hair, a commanding presence, a firm handshake and icy green eyes.
Tessa frowned and ran her finger around the rim of her teacup. “Davis is trying harder now to be a … kinder man than he once was. But he’s a tough character. And he was building a dynasty, you know? He wanted his boys to get good educations and come to work for the family company. He had no patience for a troubled son, and no respect for Jericho’s considerable mechanical skills. Ash said his dad once yelled at Jericho that he didn’t need a damn grease monkey for a son. If he wanted his car fixed, he’d take it to a shop.”
“What a bastard.”
Tessa sighed. “Well, yeah. Davis can be a real jerk, it’s true. But as I said, he’s been working on lightening up—and speaking of people’s fathers …”
Marnie moaned. “Oh, no. In case you didn’t notice, I’ve been putting that off.”
Tessa had on her wise-big-sister look again. “You have to let them know what’s going on.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What if Dad or Gina calls you in Santa Barbara?”
“They’ll try my cell if no one answers. And if Mark picks up in Santa Barbara, he’ll tell them I’m here, safe, with you.”
“Marnie.” Tessa said her name and then just looked at her. In her bed in the corner, Mona Lou let out a long, sad sigh.
Marnie grumbled, “You are going to make such a good mother. You’re so damn sure of what other people need to be doing.”
“Call home.”
Marnie said darkly, “And you know what will happen when I do.”
Tessa broke eye contact first. “Don’t worry about Grandpa.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“You’re not calling him, you’re calling Dad and Gina.”
“I don’t have to call him. As soon as Gina and Dad know, Grandpa will find out. He always finds out. And you know how he is. He’ll probably drive that old wreck of a Cadillac all the way here to Texas, just to give me some advice.”
“Come on, Marnie. He’s over ninety. His days of driving long distances are done.”
“Think again. He’s Oggie Jones.”
“He only does it out of love.”
“Well, right now, I don’t need Grandpa Oggie’s special brand of love.”
“Marnie. Phone home.”
Making that call wasn’t as bad as Marnie had expected it to be. Gina clucked over her and her dad asked her if she needed money.
Why did everyone suddenly want to give her money? It was a little insulting and a lot reassuring. They loved her, she knew that. They wanted to do what they could to make sure she was okay.
She told them to hug her half brothers, Brady and Craig, for her, and hung up feeling good that they knew what was going on. Hey, she could get lucky and they wouldn’t even tell her grandfather about her situation.
Well, a girl can hope….
Next, she called her birth mother in Arkansas. That was a short conversation. Marybeth Lynch Jones Leventhaal had remarried recently and her new husband was a widower with five young children. Marybeth also ran a busy real estate business. That didn’t leave her a lot of time for chatting on the phone. Marnie’s mom said she loved her and to call if she needed anything.
After that, she debated whether to call San Antonio Choppers and ask for the partner, Gus. Or to ask for Jericho first?
And then she decided it would work more in her favor just to show up and apply for the job. After all, she reasoned, it would be harder to turn down a needy relative in person than it would be on the phone.
Northwest of the 410 loop, on a stretch of dusty road studded with flat-roofed strip malls and used car lots, Jericho’s shop was housed in a barnlike structure of gray-painted brick.
The shop’s name, San Antonio Choppers, was written big and bold above the front entrance in a sort of Gothic/heavy metal–looking script on a logo shaped like a bat—or maybe a winged shield. A high chain-link fence topped with coils of barbed wire rimmed the wide circle of parking lot that surrounded the building.
Marnie drove through the open gate and parked her Camry across a stretch of blacktop from the door, next to a Harley that looked like it had been around since World War II, with handlebars wrapped in black tape and a hand-stitched rawhide seat. Feeling a little out of place, she got out of the car, straightened her snug denim skirt and walked tall across the asphalt to the thick steel front door with the wide pane of glass on the top.
Even from outside, she could hear the muffled beat of loud music, and the scream of some metal-slicing saw. And pounding. Someone was pounding with a heavy hammer—probably on steel. There were big bikes in a row close to the door and a number of mean-looking customized antique cars as well. One of the cars bore a giant plaque across the trunk that read Pedestrian Killer.
Marnie refused to be daunted. She marched up to that heavy door and yanked it wide.
The music got louder, so did the pounding and the scream of sawed metal. And she was only in the office, which had a high counter, a desk and file cabinets behind it. Beyond the desk and file cabinets, there was a waist-high sliding window that ran the width of the far wall, mirroring the windows that flanked the front door. Through the glass of the far window, she could see the cavernous shop itself and the men working in there. She counted at least six lifts and a welding area back in a distant corner, and steel-railed stairs going up to another level. It seemed a pretty big operation.
On the customer side of the counter, there was sort of a makeshift gift shop setup, stacks of T-shirts and sweatshirts with the San Antonio Choppers logo, a carousel draped with keychains. She spotted hats and skullcaps bearing the shop logo, and even what looked like rolls of San Antonio Choppers wrapping paper. The display could use a little tidying. Not to mention a serious encounter with a dust rag.
Burly men in old jeans, heavy boots and T-shirts sat in chairs along the wall beneath the windows on either side of the door. Marnie felt their eyes all over her. She sent a slow smile to the left and right, just to let them all know that as far as she was concerned, looking was free.
On the far side of the counter, an enormously pregnant blonde with pouffy side ponytails and some serious facial piercings dragged herself out of the chair behind the desk. “Help you?”
Marnie stepped up to the counter. “I’ve come about the job—the temporary one?”
The woman braced a hand on her hip and shouted good and loud toward a shut door to her left. “Gus! Job applicant!”
The door opened. A tall, lean black man with a shaved head, chin-strap beard and a moustache pulled open the door. He stuck his finger in his ear and scowled. “You got a voice like a band saw, Desiree. I’m right here.”
Desiree shrugged, flipped her blond head in Marnie’s direction, and lowered herself back into the desk chair with a long sigh. She picked up a stapler and began stapling papers together.
The man came toward Marnie, his wiry brown arm extended. “I’m Gus. Gus McNair.” He had a beautiful tattoo of a single rattlesnake that coiled its way down and around the smooth dark skin of his arm. The snake’s head, fangs showing, red forked tongue flicking, extended beyond his wrist, over the back of his hand.
She reached across the counter and their palms met. “Marnie Jones.”
Gus smiled then, a slow, appreciative smile, displaying even rows of beautiful teeth. Suddenly he looked like a movie star. He could have been anywhere from forty to sixty, his skin was so smooth, with only a few crow’s feet around his eyes. And with a smile like that, a girl would find it very easy to forget that he was probably old enough to be her dad. “Come on in my office,” he said.
She went around the end of the counter and followed him into the small room beyond the door, which held a cluttered desk and a couple of chairs. The single window faced the front and the cinderblock walls were one continuous collage: photos of big bikes, a couple of neon-decked clocks, examples of really fine airbrush art and line drawings of several different chopper designs.
Two pit bulls, one brown and one black, lay on either side of the desk. In unison, the dogs lifted their heads from their paws when Gus led her in. The brown one yawned. Neither got up.
Gus shut the door and folded his long frame into the chair behind the cluttered desk. He indicated the paint-spattered metal chair across from him and she sat in it, sliding her purse off her arm to the floor.
“Here.” He produced an application from the pile of stuff on the desk, and then took a pen from the desk drawer and gave her that as well. “Clear off a space on your side and fill it out. Then we’ll talk.” With that, he put his feet up on the corner of the desk, leaned back, linked his long-fingered hands on his stomach and shut his eyes.
Marnie stared at him for a moment, bemused. Was he asleep?
“Go on, fill it out,” he said, without opening his eyes.
So she did, giving Tessa’s address as her residence and her own cell for a phone number. In the section for previous employment, she put down the payables/receivables job and her father’s garage, lying about the dates a little, extending the time she’d worked at both.
“Done?” He opened his eyes and sat up.
She handed the form across the desk to him.
He leaned back again, hoisted his boots to the desk and stroked his neatly trimmed silver-gray beard as he read. “What area code’s your cell?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“How long you been in town?”
“Since yesterday.”
He slanted her a look. His eyes were a brown so deep they appeared black. They were kind eyes, but she saw doubts in them and had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to hire her. “This is an Olmos Park address. You got a house in Olmos Park, Marnie Jones?” Meaning what did she need with a temporary job at a motorcycle shop if she lived in a wealthy neighborhood?
“It’s my sister’s house. I’m staying with her.”
“The job is for six weeks, while Desiree’s having that baby you might have noticed she’s about to drop any minute.”
“Six weeks would be great. I’m kind of … open-ended, at the moment.”
He chuckled, a deep, smooth-as-velvet sound. “Open-ended, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Say you decide to head on back to Cali before the six weeks are up. Where does that leave me?”
“But I won’t. That wouldn’t be right. If you hire me, I’m here for as long as I say I’ll be here.”
He tipped his shiny, smooth head and studied her. “You telling me I can count on you?”
“Absolutely.”
“You seem like a nice girl, Marnie.” He definitely had that tone—the one that said he was trying to gently ease her on out the door. “But your office experience is sketchy.”
She was leaning forward by then, willing him to hire her. Strangely, the more certain she became that he would turn her down, the more she wanted the job. “I know all the computer stuff. I learn fast. And I’m no slacker.”
“Let me ask you this. You even know what a chopper is?”
She remembered the bikers she’d met at her dad’s garage and the things they had explained to her about their world. “I do, as a matter fact. It’s a custom-built motorcycle, with radical styling, and a raked front end—longer forks at a greater angle than a standard bike.”
He gave her a slow nod. “Close enough. But I still don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
“Truthfully now, you want to work here, why?”
It was a good question. And she wasn’t sure she had an answer. Probably because it was a damn sight more to her liking than the hamburger place she was heading for next.
Not that she could tell Gus that. “Well, my dad owns a garage in my hometown. It’s on the form there. I always liked it, helping him out, running the office for him. And, also, um …” She blew out a hard breath and brought out the big guns. “Your partner is my brother-in-law.”
Gus’s black Converse high-tops hit the floor. “Jericho?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“His family is rolling in green.”
“So I understand.”
“If you’re married to one of his brothers, you don’t need a temporary job here. We both know that.” He was looking at her like he didn’t believe a word she’d told him.
She suppressed a sigh. “But I’m not married to one of his brothers. His brother, Ash, is married to my sister.”
He smiled again. Slowly. She couldn’t tell whether her being family to his partner made a difference—or he continued to think she was lying through her teeth. “Well, angel. You should have said so upfront.”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
“You talked to Rico about this?”
“The ad said to ask for you,” she offered lamely.
Gus was already on his feet. “He’s in the shop. Wait right here.”
He went out and she waited, eyeing the two pit bulls, both of which seemed to have forgotten she was there.
Gus returned with Jericho in no time. When he led her brother-in-law in, the room seemed cramped, dwarfed by Jericho’s size and his considerable presence—and by Gus, too, who wasn’t as big as Jericho, but had energy and charisma to spare.
Jericho didn’t sit down. Neither did Gus. That couldn’t be good.
“How you doin’, Marnie?” Jericho asked.
“Hey.”
“Gus tells me you’re looking for temporary work.”
“That’s right.”
With a nod, Gus clicked his tongue at the dogs. They followed him out. She was left alone with her huge brother-in-law who did not look especially thrilled to see her.
Jericho hitched a hard thigh up on the edge of Gus’s desk and rested his big tattooed elbow on his knee. “Okay. It’s just us. What’s this about?”
She told the simple truth. “I’m staying in San Antonio for a while. And I need a job while I’m here. I looked in the want ads … and there was Gus’s ad. It seemed kind of …” I don’t know, karmic maybe?”
“Karmic.” He didn’t look amused. He ran a huge hand down his face. “Look, Marnie …”
Everything about him—his voice, his glum expression, the tired way he dragged his hand down his face—it all said that this was not going to happen.
Grabbing her purse, she stood. “Okay. Getting the picture here. Karmic was a really bad word choice—because you have no intention of hiring me, no matter what I say.”
He had the good grace to look pained at least. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Hey. I get it. Can’t have someone working for you who steals the merchandise.”
“It’s not that. We’re past that.”
“Well, I thought we were.”
“It’s … you’re kind of up in the air now, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Around here, we gotta have someone we can depend on to handle the front. You could decide tomorrow that you want to work things out with your boyfriend and you have to go.”
“There won’t be any working things out with Mark.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll be saying it next week. And every week after that. He ended it with me. There’s no going back.”
“Maybe he’ll snap out of it, realize he made a big mistake.”
“Too late. I’m done.”
“But Marnie, come on. You could always have a change of heart.”
“How much clearer can I be about this? It’s over between me and Mark. Finished. Dead with a stake to the heart. And as far as my just taking off, no. I would never do that. If I give my word that I’ll be here till your regular person comes back, I’ll be here.”

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