Motorcycle Man
Page 61

“Tyra, are you all right?” I heard Sadie ask and I brought my hands down sharply, slammed them on the table and exclaimed, “No!”
“Why?” Camille asked, watching me closely.
“Because this screws with my dream. I didn’t think he was forty-one. He doesn’t look forty-one. He looks thirty-six, tops!” I was close to yelling and I noticed now Gwen was looking at me closely too and it wasn’t hard to read, even inebriated, she didn’t like what she saw. “How can he be forty-one and look thirty-six? He drinks beer. He shoots tequila. He eats more pork in one meal than most people have in a week. He rides motorcycles in the sun without a helmet. And he lives wild. That isn’t possible!”
“Uh, forty-one isn’t exactly old. And he’s hot,” Gwen remarked.
“I know he’s hot. I’m intimately acquainted with all the ways he’s hot,” I returned.
“No, no, no,” Elvira chanted, hand up, palm toward me, “don’t go back there, girl. We already had the pleasure discussion and I might look recovered but, the shit you shared, I’m not.”
“So, I don’t get it, what’s the problem?” Tracy asked the second Elvira quit talking and I rocked my ass in my tall stool, making it wobble but getting closer to the table, settling in and I started to count it down.
“It’s supposed to happen like this,” I lifted a hand and grabbed my other index finger, “I find my dream man. No one else would do. I promised myself that. Dream man or nothing. No settling. So I didn’t. I would have preferred to meet him ten years ago. I didn’t. I met him at a party at Ride two and a half weeks ago. I didn’t know this because he was fantastic in bed and gave me so many orgasms, I lost count –”
“What’d I say about pleasure discussion?” Elvira asked sharply, interrupting me, eyes narrowed. But I was on a mission, ignored her and kept right on talking.
“I knew it because he was funny. I knew it because he made me laugh. He made me feel beautiful. He made me forget about all the worries and shit in life and just have fun. Be alive. Then he was a jerk and I mean… bad. Then we fought, like, a lot. Then we had a drama that involved kidnapping and neither of us responded to that well but even though it sucked and hurt something awful, it was good in the end because I exposed my soft spot and Tack promised he’d handle me with more care. Now he’s hot, great in bed, gentle and unbelievably sweet, all this proving he’s the one. He’s my dream man.”
Distractedly I noticed Gwen wasn’t looking at me like she didn’t like what she was seeing anymore but smiling at me.
“So, again, I don’t get it. What’s the problem?” Tracy somewhat repeated and my eyes went to her.
“The problem is,” my voice was rising and I let go of my finger, “the dream is, after I found my dream man, he’d woo me, which Tack doesn’t do but I’m okay with that since he’s a great cook, he thinks I’m cute, sweet and likes it when I get pissed which happens with him a lot and he’s awesome in bed.”
“Is no one listening to me?” Elvira asked but I talked over her.
“Then he’d win me, marry me in a big-ass wedding that rivals anything the Windsors could dream up and then…” I leaned toward Tracy, “we’d have…” I leaned closer, nearly teetering off my chair, “lots of babies!” I slammed back in my stool and threw up my hands. “But he’s forty-one! He’s got two grown kids! He’s not going to want to start again now! And he might be enough for me, being all that is Tack. That’s a consideration. And he has two kids, good kids that I like. But they’re older, almost grown up so it isn’t like I can ride the wave of helping to raise another woman’s kids to get my kid fix so I’d have to give up that part of the dream. And I promised I wouldn’t give up any part of my dream. And I want kids!” Now I was mostly shouting and ended my shout with, “Gah!”
Then I slapped my hands to my face again, covering it.
“I’m seeing her point,” Tess whispered.
“Me too,” Mara whispered back.
I dropped my hands and nabbed my clutch that was resting on the high, round table we were sitting at, declaring, “I’m calling him. We’re going to talk about this right now.”
“No!” Elvira said loudly. “Girl, don’t do that.”
“I’m doing it,” I mumbled, digging through my clutch.
“Don’t do it, really, don’t do it,” Elvira advised.
“Why?” Tess asked.
“Because, she’s been seein’ this guy for a couple of weeks. It’s been drama most of that time, it’s been good for only a few days, she’s drunk and no way she should be talkin’ to some biker about her dream wedding that rivals the shindigs of the Royals and lotsa babies after a few days of good,” Elvira explained. “I don’t know, I haven’t read the handbook, but my guess is, bikers don’t do royal weddings. More like, rowdy weddings that end in someone gettin’ stuck with a knife.”
It was then I decided it was imperative I talked with Tack about his thoughts on weddings too. Though, maybe later.
“I’m with Elvira on this one,” Camille put in her two cents. “Especially the drunk part seein’ as Tyra’s not drunk, she’s hammered. I do not see good things with this talk. Men like drunk women who get horny. They do not like drunk women who get hysterical about future babies…” I looked at her and she finished, “or not as the case may be.”
Oh God.
I was totally calling him.
I dropped my head and started digging through my clutch again.
“But this is important, she shouldn’t waste time if they don’t see eye-to-eye on their future. She should talk to him,” Sadie cast her vote.
“I agree,” Tess agreed with Sadie.
“I’m on the fence,” Tracy put in. “I see all your points.”
“Why am I not surprised about that?” Elvira muttered and I yanked out my phone and held it straight up in the air.
“Found it!” I cried.
“Oh shit,” Elvira muttered again.
“Jesus,” Camille murmured.
“Oh man,” Gwen whispered.
I dropped my hand, dropped my head and started stabbing the phone with my finger.
“I’m guessing this means we’re calling it a night,” Tess declared. “I’m calling Brock. Anyone need a ride home?”