Faith: Biker Romance (The Virtues Book 2) (2 page)

I was free from the family for a moment, so I did my best to act like the type of girl he’d take out on a Friday night. “You got a name?”

“I sure do. What about you?” He was so cocky that I could hardly stand it! His smile was electric. He didn’t wear it, he
used
it, and he probably knew it, too. The white teeth, the dimples at his cheeks—it was all working against me and for him.

“Faith.” I didn’t say it with the usual pride. Any time a friend of the family heard the name, they fawned over me instantly, as if my name made me our Father Himself.

Tom Sawyer/James Dean nodded. “I know your type. Mommy and Daddy drag you with them to church every chance they get. You read the Bible every night before bed, and I bet there’s a golden cross beneath that pretty little dress, isn’t there?”

Out of instinct, I reached up beneath my chin and pressed against my dress. I could feel the thin chain that did, indeed, hold a cross. He was partially right, but he only knew half the story. He was a little too cocky for his own good.

My voice was sour and quick. “They
do
drag me every chance they get. The cross is so my parents leave me be. I read John D. MacDonald before bed, but I’m sure you wouldn’t know—”

“Travis McGee, or his other stuff?” The sure look was still on his face. I hated to be bested, but I had to admit that he had an answer for everything. He was refreshing, even if he was a bit of a smart ass.

“Travis McGee.” After I spoke, he stared at me, waiting for the next move on the board. He had a counter for all of them, even the ones I hadn’t thought of yet.

“Walk with me,” I said. “I don’t have long.” I decided that might be something he hadn’t planned for. He wasn’t expecting me to give in so soon. I guessed I was right, because he nodded and kept his mouth shut for a change.

I turned and began to head back down the street on the opposite side for a change of scenery. He walked beside me, looking at me and smiling before turning back to his own thoughts.

As we passed an art gallery, he stopped in front of the large window and spoke again, keeping his gaze on the inside of the store.

“What school do you go to? I don’t recognize you, and I’ve bounced around between quite a few of them.” He said it as if it was casual conversation. I knew what he was implying, and it only made him seem more mysterious and dangerous. I was sure that was exactly what he was going for, too.

I hated the answer. I always had, but my mother wouldn’t budge. “I’m homeschooled, actually.”

As I spoke, I watched his reflection. His eyes were more alive than any I’d ever seen before. The boys in Bible study had the eyes of followers. This one was no follower.

“Homeschool. Sheltered. How much time to you actually get to yourself?”

I smiled. “Well, since I don’t have a car or a job, very little. Time away from my parents is time spent with the other homeschoolers at Bible study.” I sounded dull as hell.

“Wow, Faith. When is it that you cut loose?”

The paintings inside weren’t anything spectacular; the standard Native American crap that tourists ate up, but for whatever reason, the fast-talker next to me was transfixed.

I stood next to him, staring at the earth tone abstract, and the realization struck me. “I don’t know...” I was eighteen and I’d never left the state, let alone made my own friends outside of the church. I lived a boring life, and I didn’t see any end in sight. The plan was to attend Nazarene Bible College in the fall, and more boring life after that.

The kid turned to me, his face serious for the first time since I’d met him. “But you want to, don’t you?”

“Want to what?”

“Cut loose.” His eyes were like glaciers, a glowing blue that froze you in place. “You’re just dying to cut loose.”

He could read me so well, and we’d only just met. I whispered my reply with more reverence than I gave any prayer. “Yes.” I stared into his eyes, finding some kind of truth there that I’d never felt before.

I hated that he knew what I wanted. I hated that he’d pulled the word from me. Most of all, I hated that it had taken me so long to find someone to do just those things.

The stranger stared at me, drinking in the shocked look on my face. He saw right through me, down to my very core and deepest desires. He smiled and nodded.

He spoke like the guest pastors I’d seen, slick and confident, knowing our interaction would be fleeting. “I thought so. You and me are going to have some fun, Faith.”

I snapped out of my daze. “Who do you think you are? You act like you know me, but you don't have any idea who I am. Heck, I don't even know your name.”

He took a step back, raising his hands, “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Nobody likes to hear the truth; I get that. I’m just saying that you could use a little bit of fun.” He stepped back toward me, closer than he had ever been before. “Something to get your heart rate going like it is right now.”

He was right again. My heart was pounding in my chest, pumping adrenaline throughout my body. Every sensation was heightened, and somehow he knew it. It was like he could read my mind. Of course, talk was easy—living under the conservative reign of my parents wasn't.

“Yeah, I’ll just go ask my mother if I can run off and have some fun with a slick-talking stranger. That will go over—”

He cut me off. “Like a fart in church?”

“Oh my goodness!” I hit him in the arm while he laughed. It was like he enjoyed pushing my buttons. I turned to head back to the bookstore and my mother, and he caught up to me in a second.

He was still cracking up. “I’m sorry, I had to. Couldn’t help it.”

I ignored the remark, but I couldn't ignore him. There was something magnetic about him. “Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Eventually, yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “So mysterious.” I hoped it sounded sarcastic instead of betraying the genuine interest I had for him. “You know my name, my history, where I
don’t
go to school. You gotta give me something, buddy.”

“I could give you a kiss.” That cocky son of a gun.

I turned to him as we walked. “I could give you a slap.” He looked hurt for a split second. I liked that. I didn’t want him to think he knew me inside and out. I was full of surprises. My face cracked into a smile as disarming as his own.

His worry faded, and I could almost see him reevaluating what he thought he knew about me. I looked across the street to see that we were almost across from the bookstore. It killed me, but it was time to say goodbye.

I turned, ready to cross the empty street, and he followed me. “If my mom catches me talking to a boy, I’ll suffer for weeks. You gotta get moving.” I lowered my voice as if my mother wasn’t inside the building.

“What’s your phone number?” His smile was as toothy as ever. He wasn’t the one that was going to get in trouble.

“Go.” I tried to shoo him away as I passed.

He wouldn’t let up. We were getting closer to the storefront. “What’s your address?” I admired his persistence, but he was going to get me in trouble.

“Go!” I whispered harshly. I gave him a shove, realizing again that his strong body wasn’t going to budge against my slender frame.

“What church do you go to?” As he asked, I sped up, trying to get to the front door of the bookstore before he could follow me inside. If he did, my mother would have a total meltdown.

I knew that the only way he’d relent was if I gave him something. I figured he’d never come to my church, so it sounded like the safest bet. Besides, I looked inside to see my mother paying. Time was of the essence.

I turned to him and stopped. He was following closely, and he actually had to grab my shoulders to stop us colliding. I wanted to feel his fingertips on my skin, but the modest dress prevented him from actually touching my flesh. I’d dream about it for weeks.

“We go to Austin Bluffs. Now go!” I spun around, cursing my heart for beating so hard for the handsome stranger.

I heard him walking down the street, and before the door closed all the way, I heard him call back to me, “The name’s Eddie!”

When the door closed, the bells alerted everyone inside the bookstore of my presence. The cashier and my mother turned to me. She smiled at me, her large pile of books on the countertop.

“What did you say, dear?” She seemed oblivious that I had even been gone, which wasn't out of the ordinary.

I snapped myself out of the blank stare, finally finding an out. “Hmm? Oh, I said, ‘You ready?’ ”

She looked down at the pile of books. “Just about. Would you be a sweetheart and give your mother a hand?”

My heart eased a bit knowing that I’d gotten away with my daring escape.
Daring escape.
To think that walking down the street and talking with a boy my age was “daring” made my soul sink. Mother had tried to set me up with boys from respected families in the church, and I could already envision myself being pushed toward marriage.

That thought was the most awful thing that had ever come into my head. I wanted to escape, not just the church or my home, but Colorado Springs entirely. I wanted to see the world and experience things instead of reading about them or hearing everything I was missing out on from my sister and brother-in-law.

I smiled and tried to cover up my feelings. After three years of feeling distant and alienated, I had gotten pretty good at keeping up the façade.

Picking up the books, I headed back toward the door, ready to climb into the old ’80 Jeep Wagoneer. After dropping the books into the back seat, I pulled myself up into the passenger’s side. My mother was already buckling herself in, and as she turned the key to start the engine, she looked over at me.

“So, you want to tell me about the boy I saw you with?”

The ride back to our house somehow turned into the longest four miles of my life. My mother grilled me on every second I’d spent from the time I left the bookstore until the time I returned. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Eddie.

“Mother, I was just talking to him. I don’t know anything about him.” I did my best to stay calm about the whole ordeal.

“You just met some boy on the street? Faith, there’s too many people in this city to be talking to strangers.” I’d heard the lecture so many times before. The words were different, but it was that isolationist tone that was always the same.

My parents regulated everything about my life, and at eighteen, I was done with it.

“We just talked.” Then, I remembered something that she would bite like a hungry catfish. “He asked what church I go to.” The tone was hopeful, and I knew the bait was too tempting.

In an instant, her mood changed. That sparkle of the Lord’s holy light was in her eye. Her perception went from sinner and atheist to a lost sheep looking for his flock and protective shepherd. She turned to me with a smile.

“Is he new in Colorado Springs, or just unhappy at his current church?” Her voice changed in pitch, as well. It was higher, hopping along from C word to C word.

I shook my head. “I’m not sure, Mother, but I told him where we went.” Up to that point, I hadn’t told a single lie. I twisted the truth into something unrecognizable, but I hadn’t lied. That was about to change.

“He was very interested in The Navigators.” I was laying it on thick, but I wanted to swing the conversation anywhere but on Eddie.

The Navigators were a group that trained Christians on better spreading the Word of God to others. My parents had been members for as long as I could remember. Not only did we attend regular church services, but we also sat through classes and lectures on better spreading the Word. I found it ironic that even though my parents were trained better than most missionaries, they’d still never left the state of Colorado to do any Word spreading.

“Did you invite him to Wednesday service?” She almost sang each new question, excited by the possibility of a new member of the church.

No, no I did not, Mother.
“Of course I did, Mother. He sounded very excited. I hope I gave him a good impression of our church.”

“I hope so, too, sweetheart. Did he say where he used to worship?”

I wanted the ride home to be over, but it felt like every stoplight was against me.

“I didn’t recognize the name. He said they were more into the social aspect rather than the actual worshipping.” It was a subject that always got my mother riled up.

The rest of the car ride, she went on and on about how churches are just an excuse to see each other once a week. Pot lucks and community meetings have no place in the house of the Lord, etcetera, etcetera. I tuned out.

Eddie occupied my mind, instead. I’d seen other boys besides the ones in church. I saw them at the grocery store, rare trips to the movies, and at the doctor’s office. Never had any of them talked to me, let alone talked to me the way that Eddie did.

The way he
told
me what I was thinking. Not like an order, but like solid knowledge that he had picked up just by reading my body language. It was…I don’t know. It was exhilarating. It reminded me of the heroes in the books I read. Not the ones my family knew about, but the ones I hid. He was a real man. And that whistle. It was the complete opposite of how I’d been treated since becoming a woman. The boys in church were afraid to even look at me wrong.