“I can’t say. No one you’d know. Inside people,” he insisted. Given his candor all this time, she had no choice but to believe him.
“So tell me about yourself. Where do you work? What do you do?” Stormy asked.
“Aside from running the MC, I have various, uh, business endeavors,” he said. “It would bore you to death, but it pays the bills and lets me work from anywhere in the world.”
“That doesn’t sound shady at all,” Stormy guffawed. “Are you trying to impress me or do you really have legitimate business endeavors?”
“I don’t need to impress you, Stormy. I’m just saying, what I do outside the club is legit, and I’m serious, it’s boring,” he replied. “Websites, clicks, referrals, that sort of thing. Your eyes would glaze over if we went over what I do.”
“I see.” She looked him up and down and studied his face. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would run online businesses. He was so rugged, rough and tumble, and dressed in head to toe denim and black leather.
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to stay in the MC forever,” he said. “So, Stormy, what do you do?”
“I’m a registered nurse,” she said. “Currently unemployed.”
“I thought nurses were always an in-demand profession?”
“I thought so too, but not in Coleville, I guess,” she shrugged.
“Is that how you met Jett?”
“Oh, yeah, I just assumed you knew that. I was his nurse after he had a real bad bike accident a few years ago,” she said.
Ryder’s face became pinched. “Oh, yeah. I can see how you marrying and running off with him would upset Misty then. Big time.”
“Why do you call your mom Misty?” Stormy asked. She was dying to know more about their odd family dynamic.
“I’ve called her Misty ever since she decided not to be a mom,” he said. “The word ‘mother’ is reserved for people who actually fit the bill for that role not someone who runs off with men every night of the week and leaves her young kids at home with no food in the cupboards.”
Stormy could hear the disdain in his voice when he talked about his mother. It was the same tone she’d hear in Jett’s voice anytime Misty came around. Ryder was lucky that he was able to escape her powerful grasp and live a life all his own. Poor Jett never had that opportunity until Stormy came along.
Their food arrived and Ryder dug in right away.
“Mmm,” he said between bites of fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. “Just like I remember.”
“You don’t have greasy spoons in California?” Stormy asked.
“Of course we do. Nothing beats your hometown diner,” he said. “That nostalgia just adds a little something extra, you know?”
He continued scarfing his food as Stormy picked around at her fruit plate. Some of the fruit looked questionable, and her appetite hadn’t quite returned yet. Instead of eating, she just watched Ryder devour his breakfast. He was such an animal when he ate. He was night and day from Jett. Jett would eat slowly, with intention, while Ryder just inhaled everything.
“Oh, man,” Ryder said as he sat back in the booth and pushed out his belly. “That was good.”
He rubbed his stomach contently as he smiled at Stormy.
“I missed that,” he said. “A little greasy food never hurt anyone.”
She looked down at her fruit and back at him.
“I guess you didn’t eat crap today,” he laughed. “Well, good for you.”
The server brought the check and Ryder slapped a twenty dollar bill on the table before leaving.
“I forgot how cheap small towns are,” he said. “I don’t even think I could get breakfast for $20 back home.”
He followed Stormy back out to the bike. The sun was still shining bright, and it was a perfect day for a ride. The fresh air felt good on her face as they headed back towards her house.
The moment they pulled into her driveway, they stood outside and lingered a bit on the front porch.
“So what’s your plan, Ryder? How long are you going to be in town?” she asked.
“No itinerary of any kind. Just sort of playing it by ear,” he said. “I was going to ask you something. You can totally say no if you want, and I’ll understand.”
“What?” Stormy was almost scared.
“Would it be okay if I stayed at your place while I’m in town?”
Stormy wondered why he would want to sleep on her couch when he clearly had money. He drove a nice bike, bragged about his internet businesses, and seemed like a pretty resourceful guy.
“You’d rather sleep on my couch than at a nice hotel?” she asked.