April backed up against the wall to better hide the crooked
chrome she held. Of all the stupid things that could happen.
With her free hand, she brushed at the pleats on her skirt
to straighten them. Then she switched the mirror into her
right hand and smoothed out the other side. Everything was
under control.
“What do you have there?” inquired a low, masculine voice
from above her head.
She snapped to attention like she was about to undergo a
military inspection.
A handsome, muscular man in a black bomber jacket towered
above her, larger than life. His shoulder-length hair was
pulled back into a neat ponytail. Golden streaks highlighted
his nut-brown mane. His indigo-colored eyes perused her
face. “Is something wrong?”
She twisted the strand of pearls that draped from her neck
between her fingers with her free hand. “No. Everything’s
fine,” she said. It would be as soon as she could meet up
with Mr. Morrow or some of the other members from the civic
organizations.
“Then what are you hiding behind your back?”
He had seen. Oh, no. He had seen.
“Just a little mishap. I’m going to take care of it.”
“You ride?” The left corner of his mouth curled up. “In a
skirt?”
“No.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound strained. “No, I’ve
never ridden on a motorcycle before,” she said calmly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Then why are you walking around with
a Harley dome billit mirror?”
That was a good question. Why was she? She held out the
broken piece of the bike in front of her. “I don’t know how
it happened. I was opening my car door, and then—”
He took it from her, examined it, and gave it back. “Let me
guess. It just fell.” He tilted his head, exposing a strong,
angular jawline. “All by itself.”
“That’s right. It really did happen that way. Exactly.” He
probably didn’t believe a word she said. And she couldn’t
blame him. She heard unlikely stories like hers from
claimants at the insurance company all the time.
“Ahhh, I see. Sure it did,” he said. But the left side of
his grin inched upward again…”