A Fair to Remember

“Clearly, you didn’t get the message last night,” Charlie ground out.

“Tara’s old enough to make up her own mind.”

“Tara’s got no clue when it comes to guys like—”

The front screen door banged open. “Charles!”

Charlie’s attention jerked toward Tara’s furious voice, and he took a step back as she advanced off the porch. Wes looked too, noting in a quick sweep that she’d kept the mind-boggling leather top but added a pair of jeans and some black biker boots. Between the leather, her tattoos, now braided hair and murder flashing in her eyes, she was something to behold. When she stepped between the two of them and faced her brother, Wes actually felt sorry for the guy.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. Her calm tone shocked Wes, and Charlie, too, if his expression were any indication. “Wes and I were just about to go for a ride. You can take Sugar home with you, now.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going anywhere with him.”

“It’s none of your business, Charlie.”

She glared at her brother, and Wes noticed Charlie’s gaze flick to the side, then back to his sister. She turned to Wes. “Ready to go?”

Her brown eyes beseeched him to back her up, so he nodded. “Whenever you are.”

“Tara, didn’t you hear Dad this morning?” Charlie asked.

Tara whipped around so fast her long braid thumped against Wes’s chest.

“Oh, I heard him,” she snapped. “Every ridiculous, outdated, overbearing word that wouldn’t have even made sense ten years ago.” She pushed past him toward the garage. Wes started to follow, but Charlie sidestepped and blocked his path.

“Charlie,” Tara called, “you might want to get Sugar off the road.”

Charlie’s head swiveled around. He cursed under his breath at the sight of Sugar in the middle of the street and pointed a finger at Wes as he backed away. “I’m warning you, don’t go with her.”

“There’s a car coming.”

A string of expletives poured from Charlie’s mouth as he took off toward the street. Wes made out something about dogs and sisters before Tara’s Harley roared to life and she met him in the driveway. She shoved a helmet into his chest with one hand and revved the engine with the other.

“What exactly did your dad say?” Wes asked as he pulled the helmet on.

Tara pointed to her own protective headgear and shook her head. He sighed, buckled the chinstrap, and swung a leg over the bike behind her while putting a restraining hand over hers on the throttle. What was he getting himself into?

Pressing his chest against her back, he leaned as close as their two helmets allowed and shouted, “What did your dad say?”

She laughed and turned her head slightly. “He forbade me to see you again. Now, hang on.”

She revved the gas again, only this time the bike jerked forward and Wes made a frantic grab for her hips as they shot out of the driveway. He caught a brief glimpse of Charlie’s furious expression before they thundered past him and Sugar and headed out of town.

Well, if his plan had included making an enemy in his new hometown, looked like he was right on track.

As they wound through the countryside, Wes found himself exhilarated and nervous at the same time. Though Tara handled the Harley with ease, and the new shocks provided a smooth ride, she drove a little too fast for his comfort. On one particular sharp curve, he leaned to the inside with her but couldn’t keep his grip from tightening on her waist as the ground sped by at an alarming rate.

As soon as they rounded the turn, she slowed the bike and called back over her shoulder, “Sorry.”

Conversation was hard even at the slower speed, but Wes’s mind spun about a hundred miles an hour. Her father had outright ordered her not to see him again, and yet here they were, touring Wisconsin farm fields. Was that what this was all about? Defying her father? He felt a prick of disappointment, but pushed it away.

After another ten minutes, Tara turned the bike around and headed back toward town. Wes straightened in surprise when she braked to a sudden stop. Turning her head so he’d hear her, she pointed to the sky. “Looks like we might get a little wet.”

Dark clouds were but a few minutes from blocking out the early afternoon sunlight, and in the distance, lightning streaked toward the ground every couple seconds. Very faintly, over the noise of the Harley, Wes heard the muted rumble of thunder.

“Where in the world did that come from?”

She lifted her shoulders. “The forecast on Wednesday didn’t call for rain today.”