Bed still unmade. Toys scattered around the room, several miniature cars as well. Posters of favorite sports stars and a photo on the dresser of Kara and Conner.
She crossed the room and picked it up. Someone had dusted in here—Lucy, probably.
In the photo, Conner stood behind her on a raised surface, his skinny arms around her neck as he rested his head on her shoulder, grinning at the camera. She looked impatient and yet amused.
How well she remembered that day. They were about to set sail and Conner climbed up on the deck box and threw his arms around her because she wanted to go sailing alone with her friends, and he pestered her until she capitulated and agreed.
We spoiled him too much.
I spoiled him as well, Mom.
Conner always got his way. Until that day. Kara wiped the tears trickling down her face.
She closed the door behind memories and mourning. Time to forge ahead and try to save someone else. It was too late for Conner. But she would save Dylan, even if Jace didn’t want her along for the ride.
Chapter 11
The sky overhead was clear, cloudless and baby blue. Though the sun beat down with relentless heat, riding on the bike of Jace’s Harley provided a sufficient breeze.
Gradually, she lost her fear and began to relax, her grip loosening around his lean waist. Kara began to notice things she’d never seen while driving, or riding shotgun with friends. Horses grazing in a pasture off the highway. The way the sunlight glinted off the smooth surface of a drainage lake. How the pine trees clustered together seemed to stand aloof and alone, devoid of wildlife, until she saw a lone osprey perched on a pine bough. The clean, fresh smell of newly mowed grass.
Jace stuck to the back roads instead of the interstate to “get her used to riding.”
This was not the busy Florida she knew, with concrete streets, sandy beaches and traffic. This was a different Florida, with plenty of wide-open spaces, and palm-tree farms that bordered orange groves.
Kara grew more appreciative of her home state as she clung to Jace’s back.
He stopped in Manatee Island. Jace pulled into the crowded parking lot of the marina and aquarium. She eased off the motorcycle, her bottom a little sore, her nerves still rattled by their narrow escape from the clubhouse.
Jace removed his helmet and dismounted. He turned, her reflection showing in his mirrored sunglasses.
“Jarrett sent an Uber here with your suitcase. Good ol’ Louis Vuitton won’t fit in the saddlebags, but you can take what you need from the suitcase and leave it here with Brandy, the director. She’s going to bring us snacks and water for the road as well.”
She removed her backpack from the leather saddlebag and hoisted it over one shoulder. “I’ve met Brandy at fundraisers for the sea-turtle hospital.”
“Jarrett said she’s a good person and can be trusted.”
Could anyone truly be trusted?
Wincing, she walked bow-legged toward the building. Jace stood back, a wide grin on his face.
Kara scowled. “What are you looking at?”
“You look like a greenhorn after her first long horse ride.”
“My bottom hurts.”
“Want me to rub it?” He winked.
Kara started to frown and make a snappy reply, but decided against it. “Not unless you plan to get naked.”
Behind the mirrored sunglasses, his expression was difficult to read, but his breath hitched.
“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered.
The sun felt warm on her bare arms as she stretched, working out the kinks in her legs and arms. Kara felt as if she had been running for days on adrenaline and caffeine. Jace, on the other hand, looked a little windblown, but handsome and deliciously rugged. It wasn’t fair. Men could make a bad-hair day look like a good-hair day and lack of sleep only made Jace’s blue gaze heavy-lidded and sexy.
The way he used to look at her right before they made love.
Not a good thought to entertain right now.
Jace headed for the building, then pulled on the door. Locked. He squinted in the sunlight at the handmade sign on the door.
Closed for Renovations. See You Next Month!
He walked over to some bushes, retrieved her suitcase and handed it to her. Kara kneeled and unzipped it, and removed necessary toiletries and clothing, stuffing them into the backpack.
“The rest can’t fit, but I’ll leave it here. Brandy is supposed to meet us here?”
Jace ran a hand through his long hair. “She’s probably on her way to meet us. I have to make a call, Kara.”
He indicated a picnic table set beneath the shade of sprawling trees.
“Go wait over there, and I’ll be back.”
Gripping his cell phone, he walked a short distance away. Close enough for her to still see him, but far enough for privacy. Kara wondered what kind of business calls he made. More and more she doubted Jace had embraced the criminal lifestyle of the other Devil’s Patrol members.
But what was he doing, associating with them? Certainly there were other bike clubs he could join to indulge his love of motorcycles.