All Flash No Cash (4 page)

She nodded and turned to go.

“CJ?”

Turning, she cocked one hip. Those same hips
she’d been swinging before, when they’d walked toward the bar. Hips
he wanted to have pressed against him, swaying, rubbing, tilting
back and forth. “Yes, Pete Gonally?”

“Uh.” Shit, he’d been staring. At her hips.
And his manhood was rising to greet the sight of her feminine
curves. What had he needed to ask her? “Oh, when can I use this
building? Any specific hours?”

“No. It’s all yours.” She gestured with one
hand. “Heck, you can move in here, if you want.” She winked,
turned, then was gone.

Pete took some deep breaths to clear the fog
that’d worked its way into his brain. “CJ. Bossy. But all woman.”
She would be one serious lover, if he could get himself invited
home with her.

The next morning, Pete stopped at a
lumberyard on his way to Dirty Harry’s. He kept the receipt,
carefully folding it into his wallet for the audit she was sure to
insist on.

He unloaded his pickup, eating handfuls of
the trail mix he’d grabbed in the checkout line at the store, and
drank the complimentary cup of coffee they’d provided. Once he had
the plywood sheets set up on sawhorses, he brought out his sketch
pad. He’d woken during the night with fresh ideas, and sketched
them quickly, and now took the time to formalize the drawing.

Walking around the bike, he detoured to the
corner, and ran his finger over the old motorcycle’s gas tank,
pulling back a digit thick with dust. How long had her father been
unable to ride? And why? He was still alive, Pete knew that from
the bar’s website and from the way CJ spoke of him in the present
tense.

He put a pair of coveralls on, over his plain
white T-shirt and worn jeans, and started disassembling the
bike.

Around noon, CJ walked in. “What are you
doing?” Her brows drew down.

The light blue sundress she wore surprised
him. It was different than anything he’d seen her wear so far.

Looking down at herself, she snorted, but her
cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I know. Frilly is not me. I was visiting
my dad, and he seems to like it when I wear…” She shook her head.
“Whatever.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to
change, and cook up a burger. You want one?”

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted the gas tank, held it
up for her to see. “I decided to paint it off the frame. Works
better for this type of job.”

Holding her hands up in surrender, she
widened her eyes. “You’re the expert. Meet me in the bar in about a
half hour.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She disappeared, but the vision of her all
“frilly” wouldn’t leave his mind. Her white, strappy sandals showed
toenails that had been painted to match that dress. His mouth
watered. And it wasn’t for a burger.

CJ checked the clock again. It’d been exactly
twenty-eight minutes since she’d told Pete to meet her in the bar.
She’d changed out of her dress, and into a purple T-shirt and black
shorts. But she put on a cook’s apron over them, just in case.

On the griddle, three thick burgers sizzled
next to six pieces of bacon and the fluffy buns, open-side-down,
were getting nice and crisp along the edges.

“Hello.” Pete’s voice called.

“In the kitchen.” She ripped off the apron,
not knowing why, just following the panicked instinct that told her
to look as un-grungy as possible. “You like cheese?”

He stepped into the kitchen and leaned on the
counter, sexy as hell without those baggy coveralls on. “Sure do.
Can I help?”

“No. I got this.”

The deep-fryer beeped and she lifted the
basket of perfectly done French fries, hooking it over the oil to
drain.

“Wow. You can cook.” He grinned.

She set thick slices of cheddar on the
burgers, topped them with bacon, then scooped them into buns, and
set them in three baskets. As if she did it often. She poured a
huge load of fries into each basket without losing one potato.

“Is someone joining us?” He stepped forward
and plucked a fry, blowing on it with those sensual lips.

“Hm?” She swallowed and looked away from the
belly-jittering sight. “No. I saw the way you inhaled that pizza
last night. This morning, actually. I figured you were a big
eater.” She picked up two baskets and handed them to him.

“Ketchup?” He finally ate that fry and took
the baskets.

“It’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” He looked toward the ceiling.

“Come on.” She walked outside, carrying one
basket. Closing the door behind them, she double-checked it to be
sure it was locked. She pressed a code on a tall wooden gate, and
pushed it open. Starting up the steps that led to her apartment on
the second floor, she could almost feel Pete’s eyes on her legs and
her butt, and it warmed her in places that hadn’t felt another
human touch in far too long.

His boots clomped along behind her, then
stopped on the first landing. “What is this? An apartment?” He
looked in the big kitchen window next to the heavy door.

CJ headed up the next flight of stairs. “Yes,
that’s where I live. Born and raised there.”

His footsteps started again. “That’s… Yeah,
okay.”

She smiled a little. It had been a unique
life. Growing up, none of her friends were ever allowed to spend
the night. Some weren’t even allowed to visit her home. “Pretty
much the opposite from where you grew up, right?”

“Yeah. Family’s got a little ranch up in
Lemmon.”

She knew that, but liked to hear him talk. He
had a sexy, slow voice. They reached the next landing. “This is
storage.” The windows had the same bars on them that the garage
had.

Pete looked in a window. “Break-ins here,
too?”

She snorted and climbed the last set of
steps. “Not lately. Word’s gotten around about our security system.
And Dolby.”

“Yeah, I bet. He’s a force to be reckoned
with…wow!” His head had just cleared the roofline.

A sturdy spindle railing ran the entire
perimeter of the roof. A big table stood in the middle, surrounded
by six chairs with bright floral cushions. She set down her basket
and opened the sun umbrella.

Putting down his baskets, he wandered around.
Cushioned chaise lounge chairs sat in the bright sun. She spent too
many hours laying there, reading and soaking in the warmth. Toward
the front of the building, an outdoor kitchen boasted a short
refrigerator, grill, sink, and dishwasher. When her dad had made
her the bar manager, she’d had it built as a concession to all the
hours she spent working.

Of course, now she was manager, owner,
accountant, advertising expert, bartender, relief cook, and
substitute cleaning crew when her service didn’t show up at noon.
CJ sat on a chair in the sun, picking at her fries while enjoying
the play of sunlight on Pete’s hair. Wild, curly, and blond, just
like hers, but with more gold in it, she’d been tempted to run her
fingers through it more than once.

He bent to open the fridge, and his jeans
cupped his sweet butt just right.

She cleared her throat. “Help yourself to
whatever, and bring me a coke, please.”

He came back with two cans of cola and a
bottle of ketchup, and set them on the table. He lowered himself
into the chair next to hers and looked out over the railing. “This
is really cool.”

Buttes and mountains filled the horizon.

CJ munched on a fry. “I spend my free time up
here. Wondering what’s beyond…” She stopped herself. He wasn’t
interested in her daydreams.

Pete watched her. “You sound like you need a
vacation.”

“Never been.” She let out a long breath and
picked up her burger. “We never had time. There was no one to run
the place, and Dad wouldn’t think of shutting down for even a day.”
Biting into her meal, she let out a soft moan.

He froze, his burger halfway to his mouth.
His eyes narrowed. Then he took a bite, and let out a soft groan of
his own.

CJ almost laughed. Food was just about all
they had in common. She wanted to sell the bar, once Dad was gone…
She couldn’t even think of that sad day. Sell the bar, travel the
country. Maybe the world. The place had been valued at nearly a
million, including equipment and current stock. She’d drive away
over those mountains and never look back.

“What’re you thinking?” Pete had devoured his
first burger and was dipping fries in ketchup and chomping them
down.

She searched for a topic. “Thinking of my
ideas for the bike.”

He froze. “Oh yeah?” He sat back, his food
forgotten. “What are they?”

CJ probably should have mentioned this
earlier, but she had spent some time imagining what the bike should
look like. “I see mountains, maybe an eagle soaring. Grasslands, a
buffalo or two. Rattlers and buttes. Real local feeling.”

Pete let out a half-cough, half-laugh. “Add
in a wolf, maybe a burro?”

CJ tilted her head, feeling her temper bubble
up a bit. “You poking fun at me?” She’d checked out bikes parked in
front of Harry’s. Some of them had animals on them.

“No, not at all.” He waved a hand, then went
back to eating. “I’ll see if I can incorporate those ideas.” He
winked at her.

She wasn’t sure what his problem was with
natural scenery, but as long as he had some of her ideas on the
drawing, she’d be okay with it. None of the nude women that
appeared on a lot of bikes, though. That’d be too hard to
swallow.

When he’d polished off the second burger and
half the fries, he leaned back again, patting his stomach. “Good
chow, CJ. You’re a good cook.”

“Thanks.” She relaxed back into the chair,
letting out a loud sigh. “I use the kitchen in the bar more than I
use my own kitchen.”

“You don’t cook when your dad comes to
visit?” He shifted, as if he wanted to take back that question. “I
mean, my momma cooks these big Sunday dinners for the family.”

“My dad doesn’t come to visit.” She couldn’t
remember the last day he’d been in their home. A flood of sadness
came over her so quickly, she had to blink away tears.

****

Shit. Why’d he have to ask that? Pete wanted
to smack himself upside the head until time went backward and he
could bite his tongue before asking about her father. He was
curious, though. What had happened to the guy?

Then, the light bulb in his brain went full
bright. She visited her dad, he hadn’t ridden his motorcycle in
probably months, maybe a year or more. And the raffle was to
benefit Alzheimer’s. “CJ, I’m sorry. I’m thick as cornmeal
sometimes. Your dad has Alzheimer’s, doesn’t he.”

She nodded, her lips tightening. Swallowing a
few times, she opened her eyes wide, staring off into the
distance.

Pete saw the sheen of moisture in her
beautiful eyes. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

When she just shook her head, he got that
panicked feeling, not knowing if he should leave or stay.

“Harry raised me for most of my life.” The
words came softly from her lips. “He met my mother in Louisiana
when he was stationed there, and brought her back here with him.
They got the bar going, lived upstairs, actually left the place
sometimes on the bike, took vacations. I guess everything was good
until…I came along.”

Pete just sat. Waited.

“She liked riding on the back of Dad’s bike,
seeing the sights, camping out at bike rallies, having fun. I was
like an anchor around her neck. They couldn’t take me along on the
bike.”

He thought of his mom, Daisy, a woman who’d
be in the running for World’s Best Mom if there was actually a
contest.

CJ glanced at him, then looked down at the
table. “When I was three, she got on the back of some guy’s
motorcycle, and we never heard from her again.”

“Shit.” The word popped out of his mouth
before his gentleman filter could stop it. “Your dad never looked
for her?”

“Nope. Neither did I. Fuck her.” Her lips
almost curled up into a smile.

They sat for long moments, silent, listening
to the rumble of loud motorcycle tailpipes heading past the
saloon.

“Dad was diagnosed fourteen months ago. He’s
been in a special unit for about eleven of them. Things are going
downhill fast.” Her hand gripped her armrest.

He hesitated, then went for it. Placing his
palm over her hand, he squeezed softly. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze dropped to his hand, then shot to
his eyes. She looked almost…lost.

Sliding her hand out from under his, she
stood and walked to the little kitchen, grabbing a bag from under
the sink. When she padded back to the table, she tossed everything
but the plastic baskets into the bag. “I’m not sorry. It made me
strong. Dad was good to me, but he never wanted to leave the place
after
she
left.”

That was the longing he saw in her eyes as
she stared out over the horizon. She wanted to get away from here.
“And you do want to leave?”

CJ shrugged one shoulder. “Someday.” She set
the bag on the rooftop. “You know, I’ve never been further than
Wyoming and North Dakota. And those were business trips.” She
wandered to the edge of the roof and leaned her hands on the
railing.

He got up and followed her. Standing next to
her, he crossed his arms. “I’d like to meet your dad.” He had an
idea for the bike, and he’d like to meet Harry face-to-face.

Her head turned so fast, something snicked in
her neck. “Why?”

He looked down at her. “Any man who would
raise a daughter on his own…and have her turn out as well as you
did…I’d like to know him.”

Sorrow welled in her eyes. “He’s not the same
man. He’s totally different. He doesn’t recognize me sometimes.
Most of the time, actually.”

Pete dropped his arms and turned. “I know.
And I can’t imagine how hard that must be.” He debated for a few
seconds, then put his hand on her arm.

She dropped her head and leaned a little
closer.