Dustin’s dog ambled up next to her and whined. She scratched his head. He ran off and came back with a red ball. She threw the ball, and he raced off after the airborne toy.
Claire approached the barn and heard pounding. She stepped inside and gasped. Dustin was bent over his bike engine. He stood up and Claire bit her lip, seeing him without a shirt. Sweat poured over his chest and down his abdomen. His jeans hung off his hips. She’d been right. He had a flat stomach with a mega six-pack. He turned around. His back and shoulders were an amazing set of grooved muscles at work. He twisted, his muscles contracted, and she had to remind herself to stop staring.
Dustin set down his wrench on the workbench. He wiped his hands on a rag, still unaware that she’d entered.
She carefully walked along the dirt floor. The barn smelled of hay mixed with fuel, reminding her of being inside here with Dustin long ago. The silver motocross bike was held up by a metal stand. A space where something had been removed was leaking gasoline into a small container.
“What are you working on?”
He turned toward her. A smile overtook his face and her breath was lost, much like next question. His body was a work of art. He could have been a cover model for any story she’d ever written or imagined.
“The carburetor is busted. I’ll rebuild it but need to get some parts.” He gazed back at her while holding the grease-covered rag. “It’s really a mess in here right now. I’ve been busy with the house and haven’t had a chance to rebuild these motorcycles properly.”
“How many do you have?”
“Two tore apart. Down to the frame. I was able to use the parts to rebuild the Honda. But I hit a hole today, damaged the carburetor. Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.” He threw the rag onto the bench.
“I didn’t go inside the house. I didn’t need to after all.”
“Able to take care of business over the phone?”
“Sort of. A mess of sorts. I guess sometimes when mistakes are made they can help open a person to being aware of things…that things happen.”
“If you’re talking about compassion, then I agree.”
“I’m trying to say, I understand about the past and mistakes.”
He remained silent, so she stepped closer. He stood on one side of the motorcycle and she on the other.
Claire wound her fingers around the handlebar grips, remembering she’d ridden on the back of his motorcycle plenty of times.
“This is a great-looking bike.” He nodded, his lips pressing tightly together. She side-glanced him, his face, and then lower.
He picked up some contraption. “I’m trying to see if this part can be salvaged.”
He wiped off the grease and held up the part, squinting with one eye closed. She languidly observed him and his body. He was a mass of sharp, muscled angles. There were swirls of dark hair matted against his chest. Fine wisps of hair trailed over his stomach in a line to his navel. She quickly flicked her gaze back to safer ground. A silver necklace with a pendant hung down from his neck. It was the same medallion he’d worn in high school.
The air stilled inside the barn with only the barest of breezes stirring the level where they stood. Movement above caught her attention. She looked up at the rafters. Sparrows came and went from nests. The second story windows were open allowing light to enter. She recalled climbing the ladder to the hayloft and lying down with Dustin. They’d talked about their dreams. Their future. She glanced at him, and the truth dawned on her. She didn’t want to lose him again.
“What are you doing for dinner?” He was washing his hands in the sink by the back door. She marveled at the foam on his forearms and imagined standing naked with him covered in bubbles and how it would feel to run her hands over his slippery skin.
“No real plans.”
“Would you like to go out or I can try out my new grill?”
“Let’s go out. I’d like to see the town. If that’s all right with you?”
“Perfect. Around six? We can eat and then drive around while it’s still light.”
“Yes. I’ll leave you to your work. See you later.” She wanted to trace the shadows along his collarbone.
She glanced up surprised to see a pained expression on his face. Would he try to kiss her as he’d done earlier? Or would he think she was too much of a bother?
Rarely had she gone out of her way to get fixed up for date. But tonight she wanted him to find her attractive. She still had to clean out the kitchen, and then she’d see what she could do with what little clothes she’d brought.
He walked her to the door. “Shall I escort you back?”
His dog greeted them outside.