Moving On (Rolling Thunder #7) - P.J. Fiala Page 0,36
voice and the way her shoulders lifted and her smile, damn it lit up the room.
It pissed him off that the light had dimmed when Gunnar stared at her and started to mouth off at her. The fear on her face and the way she squared her shoulders to face what was to come was something to see. Damn, he was proud of her. She'd grown tougher, but smarter. It made his heart reach out to hers in a way he simply could not explain. Right now, he'd give it all up for her. If they gave him shit at Rolling Thunder, he'd walk away.
Just as those thoughts flowed through his brain, he had an idea. Pulling his truck to the side of the road, he grabbed the notebook he kept in the console, and a pen from inside and quickly sketched the bike he'd thought about yesterday. He'd add more detail to it later, but he was going to build this bike and name it Metamorphosis. The front would be simple but toward the back, as the eye traveled, it would be bursting with color and speed and definition. The front would be the dark blue of LuAnn's eyes, but the back, ahh, the back would be the color of her eyes when she was excited or smiling which was also the color of them when he made love to her. This would be his masterpiece. It would be a Chase Matthews Signature Collection Original and if Rolling Thunder didn't let him build it, Chief's Cycles would.
Finishing his sketch, he clipped the pen into the spiral and tucked the notebook into the console of his truck. Checking the road behind him, he pulled off the shoulder and onto the road with a new purpose and a lighter heart knowing he could forge a new path and sometimes things had to happen to force a person to that point. He'd see if he'd be traveling down a new path. Dog would be the decision maker even though he wouldn't know it. If he declined to let Chase build his own signature bike, that would be his answer.
A slow smile creased his face and he thought about LuAnn and wondered how she'd feel about living in Colorado. Other than her sister, Linda, there was nothing left for her here. Of course, she loved her job, but she could easily find another florist to work for. Actually, with the money that Gil had hinted at for him, they could afford to start their own greenhouse. She could have her own business.
It could all work.
His mind reeled with thoughts of the next step. The decisions to make. Everything except watching the road and the car that ran the stop sign.
The next thing he heard was the breaking glass as his truck spun in the road. The smell of rubber scraping on the pavement, then he was tossed about as his truck rolled into a ditch, his head hit the steering wheel and he heard nothing more.
23
Her thoughts were all over the board as she and Joseph packed up the remaining flowers, which thankfully were not abundant, and the tables, money box, water bins for the flowers, etc. What should she do? She hadn't given any real thought to where she might go if she decided to leave and start over somewhere else. And, Chase. Now that the Rolling Thunder crew would know they were together, she'd leave him with a mess and nothing to show for it.
He said he wanted her. That rocked her. He wanted her. Her. Not Olivia. One thing she knew about Chase; he'd never leave his Rolling Thunder family. Dog had been his surrogate father. She also knew she could never ask him to leave. So, her choices were to suck it up here and deal with whatever came her way or move on, alone, without Chase. The real question was, could she do that?
She loved him. She knew that now. She'd known it for a while. Sometime during her second year in prison, her thoughts and feelings for him had changed. It had been subtle, but as he visited, she asked less about Rolling Thunder and more about Chase. What had he been doing? He'd send her letters of some of his bike drawings and she'd ask him about them. What color of a bike? Did he actually get to make it? Did it sell? How did he feel about that? She wanted to know everything about him.