Page 10 of Seasons of Love
"Are you joking?"
"I wish I was. I asked Richard about it, and that's when he confessed his plan to take me to New York on our anniversary and get married the same day."
Benny brought our drinks, and I drank half of my beer in one go.
"Hey, don't do anything silly, okay? We don't have to talk about this," Wren said.
"Don't worry, I won't drink myself stupid. After all, I still have no clue where I'm staying tonight. Tristan said he had the keys to an apartment I could use. Apparently the owner is traveling, and her parents are quite happy that someone will keep an eye on it."
The guys all turned up at the same time, which put an end to our conversation. The look Wren threw my way told me it wasn't over.
Somehow just saying what happened aloud made me feel a little better, a little less alone. Even though we hadn't gotten to the best part of the story yet. It was just a shame that, unlike the books I wrote, this one didn't have a happy-ever-after.
The noise level at the diner went up a few decibels with the guys all talking over each other to put their orders in. How Benny kept track of any of it was beyond me. I'd asked for the double cheeseburger with bacon and Momma Ruth's special sauce, but I was hungry enough that I'd eat anything he put in front of me.
With the orders in and the center of the table filled with drinks for everyone, five pairs of eyes stared at me. Wren gave me a break by focusing on Tom instead.
"Don't look at me like that. I basically saved your asses by turning up today. Don't question it," I said.
They all laughed and lifted their drinks for a toast.
"I'm beat, but it was so worth it," Ben said, leaning against Tristan, who put an arm over his shoulder and kissed his head.
"Uh huh," Indy muttered. Tate had his fingers laced through the back of Indy's hair and was massaging the scalp under the dark-blue hair he always wore tied up in a bun.
I studied everyone and wondered how soon I could leave without seeming rude. After all, they were all nice enough, but there was just too much love around the table, and not all of it was contained within couples.
Not to mention that after a week of traveling and staying in random hotels, I was dying for a real bed with bedsheets that hadn't been slept in by thousands of people.
"What I want to know is what kind of book you're writing?"
The question came from Tom, and was so out of the blue, I had to look around to make sure I'd heard correctly.
"Oh, don't be so surprised. I read," he said with indignation.
"Fashion magazines don't count, babe," Wren said.
Tom gave him a pointed stare and then turned to me again. "Okay, I'm being nosy, but I'm also asking what everyone wants to know but doesn't have the sparkles to ask."
He definitely had the sparkles all right. Tom was such an infectiously positive human, I was pretty sure there wasn't a single person who would deny him anything.
"I only have half a plot bunny, but this character won't leave me alone. Thing is, he's a biker, and I have no clue about biker culture or bikes. I've done as much research on the internet as I can, but something tells me I need to find someone who lives that life. I just don't know where to start."
They all looked at each other.
"I know someone you can talk to here in town," Wren said.
"Really? That would be great."
"Slade owns the vintage bike store in town. I'm picking up mom's car from him on Monday, so I can take you there."
I nodded and munched on a couple of nachos.
Slade…good name.
Would he have a beard? Leather jacket? Cloudy blue eyes that hid a secret?
My thoughts ran away from me, until I realized in my head I was describing the sexy, older man I'd met earlier. He'd left without giving me a name.
