She looked down at her coffee again. “Yeah.” She shifted, as if ready to go.
Luke cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “I survived. I got my GED, spent some time knocking around, then decided to do something productive. I went into the Navy, where I worked on the engines for the big ships, and saved everything I made. Saw a lot of the world, saved as much money as I could, and when I got home, used that to open my shop.”
“That’s a good story. Better than mine.”
Luke felt a twinge uncomfortable not telling her the entire story, but he wasn’t going to blow his chance with her again. There was time enough to tell her everything if things went the way he wanted.
She gulped down the rest of her coffee. “Well, I have to go.” She stood. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Wait!” He tossed a couple bills on the table. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
She hesitated and then shrugged. “Sure.”
During the walk back, Luke slipped his arm around her waist, like he used to when they were teenagers. She didn’t protest, which he took as a good sign. When they got to her car, he still held on to her.
“Luke,” she murmured.
“Em, I want to see you again.” Without waiting for her to reply, without waiting for her permission, he pulled her against him and crushed his lips to hers. His heart sped as he tasted the lips he’d missed for so many years, and like a kid, his cock got hard as he kissed her. Her lips parted, and he slid his tongue into her glorious mouth, his tongue playing with hers, the taste of her making his head spin.
She pulled away, her cheeks flushed.
“What do you say, Em? Will you see me again?”
CHAPER SIX
The Devil’s Hopyard
Saturday’s road trip plans were solid. They would drive into Middletown and head down Old Saybrook Road toward East Haddam to ultimately reach Devil’s Hopyard, a state park with good hiking trails, and a series of waterfalls had the unusual acoustic properties. The old legends of the Hopyard were that the Devil would dance on the rocks of Chapman Falls, as his minions would brew various concoctions in the naturally formed cauldron-like potholes at the bottom of the falls. The early settlers imagined these potholes were formed from the Devil’s own hooves as he danced under the falls. It was a place full of local color, which naturally attracted the Hades’ Spawn Motorcycle Club.
They could go Route 9, a double-lane highway that rode straight to the East Haddam exit, but the little towns that strung along Route 154 were more picturesque. Luke planned a stop at a popular Mexican restaurant along Route 154 for lunch. After, they’d continue down to the East Haddam turnoff and travel over the swing bridge that provided passage over the broad Connecticut River. From there they’d head through the narrow roads of the centuries-old town, which by design looked like it never entered the twenty-first century, and through the back roads until they reached the state park. On the way back they would stop at a local restaurant for dinner. The whole trip was only 60 miles round trip, but the roads were hilly and twisty, the last stretch of road before the park being a little bit of a roller coaster, so there was fun riding those roads. They wouldn’t even need to stop for gas, but Luke marked out where the gas stations were on the maps, in case anyone forgot to gas up.
Luke was looking forward to it. Well, there was one other thing he anticipated more, but Emily hadn’t said ‘yes’ right off to a date with him. She told him she had to deal with a lot of stuff right now because of all the crap with her ex. Okay. He got it. He’d have to go slow, call her a few times, and work up to a date. He waited this long. He figured he could wait a little longer. That was the benefit of not being a kid anymore.
Twenty bikes lined up in front of his shop ready to go. Some of the club members stored their bikes in his back-storage space either for security or space reasons, so everyone found it convenient to meet at his shop.
Luke decided since it was a relatively short ride, and he was riding solo anyway, to take out his third bike, his 2014 Iron 883. He bought it last year on an impulse because he liked the hard-black styling through the body and wheels, and the no nonsense ride. The Sportster was fun for charges down the highway, but he liked the attitude of the Iron 883. Lower to the ground than other models, and a bit shorter, it was made for maneuverability at high speeds. He loved how the bike responded to the shift of his body as he moved down the road.
Different members of the club greeted Luke as he stepped out of the shop and locked the door. He kept the shop open for half-days on Saturdays for customers who worked during the week so they could pick up their bikes. Gibbs and Saks were milling around the crew, doing small checks on bikes. Luke didn’t mind, even encouraged this. It promoted good will with the club for his business. It was a definite plus for Hades’ Spawn to have three resident bike mechanics on hand.
“Hey, Spade,” said Helen, Gibs’ wife using Luke’s club name. For all Gibs groused about his wife, Gibs was lucky and knew it. Even though she was the same age as Gibs, she had a spectacular body and a sweet personality. Gibs moaned she worked out at the gym all the time, which explained the body, but a sweet personality, only the good Lord makes that.