Page 25 of The Biker's Brother

“Here’s a sign. See if you can read it.”

He slowed down.

“Jensing! Eight miles!” She sounded so excited it was infectious.

He smiled. “See? You learned a new skill. You can navigate by flashlight.”

“Bullet point for my resume,” she said without emotion. “Which I guess is going to need updating.” She attempted to mimic sounding bright and cheerful. “I can explain the gap in my work history. I took time off for abuse and serious downgrading of self-esteem’. But none of that will matter when I attempt to interview with platinum tips at the end of short spikey hair. I’ll never get in the door.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. A list of the right contacts trumps everything. Education. Experience.” His eyes did a quick scan of her appearance. “Style.”

She laughed. “You call this style?”

“Yeah. It may not beVogue, but it’s a look. Well, what do you know?”

“What?” She looked around to see if she could find a reference point for that question. When she came up empty, she asked again. “What?”

He smiled. “There’s a Waffle House in three miles.”

“No.”

“Yeah. There is.”

“I don’t mean no, there isn’t a Waffle House. I mean no, I’m not eating there.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to watch me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Can I have a blindfold?”

He chuckled. “No. We’re trying to avoid calling attention to ourselves.”

She gaped before pointing a finger at her head.

“Whoever came up with this hair suggestion didn’t get the memo. In rural America I stand out like flashing red and blue lights.”

It was still dark as charcoal gray outside because of the dense rainclouds, but the sun had come up and was giving off enough light for him to see the hair she was talking about.

“You have a point. I wasn’t in on that part of the planning.”

“So you aren’t the one to blame. Good to know.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Right.”

“And the great thing is, hair grows. You can outlive any mistake.”

Her eyes darted to his arm. “Unlike ink.”

“I’ve heard you can undo ink, not that I have any intention of it.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker.” He grinned at her.