Shooting the Moon. Brenda Novak
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another restaurant?”
“Yeah, at the corner of Twelfth and Yamhill. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
“I just hope it won’t be in a car with red and blue lights.”
HARLEY WAS ALREADY at the restaurant when Lauren arrived. She recognized his sleek black motorcycle as soon as she got out of her car—only this time there was a shiny burgundy-colored helmet sitting on the seat.
Nervously smoothing the denim skirt she’d chosen to wear, along with a white cotton blouse and a pair of high-heeled sandals, she took a deep breath. She’d thought that adding a few inches to her height might lend her some courage, but she was still only five foot six and mere inches weren’t enough to compensate for the fear rushing through her veins.
She eyed the restaurant as though it was something dark and threatening. What if everything Harley had told her on the phone about Audra and her father was a lie intended to manipulate her?
In that case, she was letting him make a fool of her. She’d certainly regret it and would definitely pay for it later.
But what if he was telling the truth?
This morning Chief Wilson had said that Harley had been picked up for an unpaid speeding ticket, posted bond and been released, which hardly made him a dangerous criminal. She’d taken Brandon to Kimberly’s, just to be safe, but the fact that Harley hadn’t done anything seriously wrong—and that he hadn’t touted the reason for his arrest when he’d spoken to her on the phone, despite her baiting—lent him some credibility. Problem was, if Harley had actually tried to do right by Audra and she’d refused him because of her father’s intervention, maybe Harley wasn’t such a bad guy. And if he wasn’t such a bad guy, then Lauren couldn’t conscionably—
Whoa, slow down, she cautioned herself, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she could physically clear the thoughts from her mind. Not such a bad guy is a pretty far cry from decent human being.
Either way, she couldn’t really walk away without hearing him out, could she?
Hesitating, she glanced between her car and the restaurant. Once she entered Thai Basil, there’d be no turning back. Once she walked in, she’d cross that invisible line between Harley and her family, and in doing so betray her sister’s memory and her father’s wishes.
If only her father was here to finish what had been started eleven years ago. She’d taken care of Brandon for most of his life, even when he was a baby and she was still in her senior year of high school. But she didn’t know the gritty details of what had happened between Audra and Harley. She and her sister had never been close. Audra hadn’t confided in her. Their father had run interference and concealed as many of the facts as he could—because he was so terribly disappointed in Audra and embarrassed that a daughter of his would involve herself with someone like Harley, and do the other things she did.
But now her father was half a world away, and Lauren’s conscience was dictating that she at least hear what Brandon’s father had to say. For Brandon, if not for Harley.
Throwing back her shoulders, she took a firm hold on her purse and went inside, where the inviting aroma of lemongrass, basil and curry wafted around her and Oriental music played softly in the background.
Even before her eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, Harley was beside her, telling the hostess they were together. He gently clasped her elbow, guiding her to a table in the far corner, then pulled out her chair and took his seat across from her. “Thanks for coming,” he said.
He’d spoken only three words, and already Lauren wanted to bolt. Was it because he sounded so sincere, so relieved that she’d agreed to meet him? She didn’t want to soften. She felt infinitely safer and more comfortable hiding behind what she’d believed to be true for so long. But it wasn’t fair to remain purposely blind, deaf and dumb.
“Lauren?”
She’d ducked behind the menu almost the moment she sat down, but lowered it now to look up at him—and immediately wished she hadn’t. He was wearing a simple cotton T-shirt beneath his black leather jacket, a pair of faded jeans and black boots. He wasn’t exactly setting any new fashion trends, but what he lacked in cutting-edge style he compensated for with raw masculinity. His T-shirt pulled across his muscular chest. His jeans molded to his body like a second skin, not because they were tight but because they dipped and curved in all the right places. And he smelled…incredible. Lauren was accustomed to her dates smelling like the cosmetics department at Nordstrom where they no doubt bought their expensive colognes, but Harley’s scent was less artificial, more like…leather and clean clothes, soap and warm skin.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she suddenly announced. She stood up to leave, but he caught her by the wrist.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, his voice low. “We’re only going to talk.”
She stared down at his hand. His grip didn’t hurt. It felt warm and reassuring, but he quickly let go as though he feared she’d take exception to his touch.
“It just isn’t right,” she said, feeling the pull of the exit and the bliss of ignorance beyond. “It seems like I’m…I don’t know, consorting with the enemy.”
He offered her a tentative smile. “Come on. We’re just having dinner. We’re not consorting. Besides, do I look dangerous to you?” His expression grew sheepish. “Yesterday’s arrest aside, of course.”
Lauren told herself not to return his smile, but the memory of his arrest, funnier in retrospect, combined with the knowledge that it had occurred simply because of a speeding ticket, got the better of her. “I can’t believe you were dragged off right in front of me,” she said with a small laugh. “You certainly have good timing.”
His smile turned into a crooked grin. “Yeah, well it took some work to arrange it. Not everyone can manage to get arrested in front of the one person it’s in their best interests to impress.” The look of chagrin reappeared. “I’m never going anywhere without my helmet again.”
“It doesn’t seem like you to be cautious,” she said, fidgeting with the back of the chair.
“No, it seems like you.” He gazed up at her, now serious, and Lauren understood his meaning. He thought she was being too narrow minded—and maybe she was.
“I just want what’s best for Brandon.”
“And I’d die before I let anything hurt him.”
Lauren told herself that of course he’d say something so reassuring. He was trying to win her confidence. But the sincerity in his voice convinced her. There was something about Harley Nelson that begged her to believe in him, if only a little. Why he affected her that way, she couldn’t fathom, not after what had happened to Audra.
“I ordered some chardonnay,” he said when the waitress appeared carrying a bottle of wine. “I thought you might like a glass.” He nodded toward the chair. “That is, if you’re going to sit back down and eat with me.”
Lauren looked from Harley to the waitress. If she didn’t leave now, she knew she might regret it for the rest of her life…but she couldn’t make herself walk away from the hope in his eyes.
“I’ll stay,” she said. There wasn’t anything wrong with spending an hour or so in Harley’s company. If he was everything her father said, their time together wouldn’t change the situation. And Quentin Worthington was rarely wrong.
Harley seemed to relax when she took her seat again. He smiled at her, but Lauren almost asked him to stop. That smile brought memories of silly schooldays, when she and Kimberly used to write notes to each other gushing about how handsome he was and speculating on whether or not they’d pass him in the halls after their next class. One time, at a school dance, Harley had crossed the floor, coming toward her, and Lauren was sure he meant to dance