Cocky Biker(70)

Luna





Jett’s waving at me to join him so I make my way through a crowd of strangers, most of them stealing quick glances to inspect the woman who stole Jett Cocker’s heart.

A week ago I was riding alone on my bike from cheap motel to cheaper motel, sleeping on lonely beds, showering in badly lit bathrooms with miniature shampoos and soaps. I woke up every morning with a deeper gloom than I’d felt the day before. I ate by myself for every meal. Couldn’t see the beauty around me. Didn’t have anyone or anything except for that bike and the pain in my heart.

I shiver to think that I’d still be living like that if I hadn’t taken this chance and faced the music of what I’d done. Said I was sorry. Took the leap of facing my fear of being loved, and being rejected if it was too late. I almost didn’t try. Where would I be now?

Not somewhere as sunny as this with a man I love smiling at me like he is now.

No one has seen me like Jett Cocker has. Really seen me and accepted my flaws and loved me anyway. And while he had a head start at falling in love with me, I have fallen so hard that it hurts just to look into his eyes, I love him so much.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hi baby,” I whisper, walking into waiting arms to receive a kiss.

“Now we eat. You hungry?”

“Uh huh. I’ll try to be more dainty here.”

He laughs. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. You be you, baby. You be you.” His smile vanishes so quickly I look behind me to see what happened.

Michael Cocker is walking toward us. I see Nancy behind him, talking to guests, her mouth freezing mid-sentence from shock and worry as she notices her husband’s path.

Jett’s body has gone hard as steel.

Separating, we clasp hands.

His father’s voice is somber and cautious. “Jerald…” He pauses, gathering his thoughts.

With his jaw tick ticking, Jett says, “Congressman.”

Michael Cocker’s eyes flicker. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

I stare up at Jett and watch his Adam’s apple move fast as he swallows hard. “I was invited.”

“By your mother. But…it should have been by both of us.”

Jett’s taken aback, and handling it with little facial expression. “Okay.”

“That’s all I wanted to say. Have a good time.” Mr. Cocker nods and glances to me, tipping his head as he turns to leave. He tucks his hands into his pockets, his back straight and his head slightly down as he contemplates what he just did. Nancy walks to him and in a voice no one can overhear, asks him what he just did. A relieved smile appears on her face and she glances over to Jett and nods. He answers her with the same.

Jaxson and the twins were still nearby so they got to see the exchange from that distance. Quick strides bring them to us, and all three ask, “What happened?”

Jett’s fingers are still tightly around mine as he answers, “A truce.”

They feel the weight of this news in different ways. Jason runs his hand through his hair like he can’t believe it, and whispers, “That took a lot for him to do.”

Jett is staring after his father. “It sure did.”

Jaxson is staring at the grass. “I’ll meet you guys at the table. I’m going to tell Jake what just went down.”

“Thanks, man,” Jett mutters. The twins both clap a hand on his shoulder and head off.

As soon as we’re alone, Jett squeezes my hand in a way that tells me how much that meant to him.

He’s a very masculine man.

I don’t expect him to talk about it more.

I’m the same way, frankly, so I get it.

“Jett,” I whisper.

He looks at me, grey eyes troubled.

“I’m going to eat like a fucking pig.”

A grin explodes on his face and he laughs loudly, lifting up my chin, “Thank you, Sunshine.”

“Any time.”

The rest of the reception is a breeze.





Jett





It’s only a nine-hour ride from Jaxson’s place outside Atlanta, to South Vacherie, Louisiana, but there’s no rush. God it felt good to have Sunshine’s arms around me while I drove us to Birmingham Alabama. We just checked into Cobb Lane Bed & Breakfast, a converted old Victorian home that family friends told me about at the wedding.

The Ciphers usually stay at less romantic places, but I wanted somethin’ with a little charm for this trip. It’s the first time we’ve been together, alone, where I know she’s not runnin’ away.

“Ya like it?” I ask, as we walk into a bedroom with fringed antique lamps and a shiny, cream-colored blanket with a shit-load of pillows on it.

She grins. “I hope the walls are thick.”