It's Always Been You (24 page)

Travis made it just inside the door when he mumbled he’d wait for her in the coffee shop that annexed the place.
 

Men
. Caitlin smirked as she took in all the gorgeous glass art, twisted metal masterpieces, earth-toned Appalachian pottery, and exquisitely carved wood bowls. A glass display of hand-made jewelry also drew her eye. There were a couple of customers milling around, so she took her time scrutinizing some pieces that interested her. Caitlin shuffled further into the store when the door chimed and her attention was drawn to the front of the shop. That was when she saw it. The sun catcher by the window in all its stained-glass glory. It was mostly an abstract floral design, with a fairy flitting on top. The sun illuminated the area around the fairy, giving it an ethereal glow. She realized she had made her way back to the front of the store and was staring right at the piece of glasswork.

“Stunning isn’t it?” a female voice said behind her.

Caitlin turned around to face a ginger-haired, freckle-faced woman about the same height as she was. She was dressed in a vintage crocheted tunic with bell sleeves. Her wiry hair was bunched in a loose ponytail.
 

“It is,” Caitlin replied.

“Eighty-five percent of the items in this shop are made by artists around Southwest Virginia,” the lady explained. “I’m Meghan, by the way.”

Caitlin smiled, but didn’t offer her name in return.
 

“You’re staying at Ms. Betty’s place?”

“Yes.”

The woman nodded, realizing Caitlin wasn’t chatty, but she pressed on anyway. “We have gorgeous ceramics back here if you want to take a look.”

“I would love to.”

Meghan left her alone after that. It wasn’t that Caitlin was anti-social; she sadly realized she didn’t have much history to make small talk. She needed to lay down roots and shape her life on her own terms, not what people forced her to be. What did she like? What had been her interests and hobbies? She knew, when she was with Jase, she always admired the stained glass architecture that adorned the ancient churches. They had travelled around Italy for a while and she really liked the alfresco walls, too. Caitlin wondered if Travis would mind if she redecorated their home. As it stood right now, it really needed furniture and some personal touches. Maybe then she wouldn’t mind being cooped up so much in the enormous house.

She’d do it. And Travis could suck it up if he didn’t like the selections she made today, because he didn’t want to come in. Caitlin smiled inwardly. Somehow she knew Travis wouldn’t object; he’d simply indulge her. Her heart skipped a beat like it always did when thoughts of her husband crossed her mind. She was infatuated no doubt, in love, most likely. But she was taking her time, because this process of falling in love was simply too delicious to hurry along. She wanted to savor the feeling.

The doorbell chimed again. A woman who was a younger replica of Meghan stormed in carrying a tray of iced coffees. “Meghan! Oh, my God, you wouldn’t believe the hunk-a-licious man at Paddy’s coffee shop.”

Caitlin stiffened.

“Celia, how many times have I told you that bikers and hippies don’t mix,” Meghan scolded the other girl. Noticing that Caitlin was looking at them, she added, “This is my sister, Celia. She makes some of the ceramics around here and seems to have a crush on half of the Iron Skulls.”

“I just look. I’m not one of their club bitches.”

“Language, young lady,” Meghan said sternly. Turning to Caitlin, she said, “That’s what they’re called, but they’re not really bitches. Most of them are really nice.”

“It’s a whole subculture, I hear.” Caitlin picked up several ceramic flower pots and laid them on the counter. Travis’s mom liked to keep plants around the house in more than the typical clay container. “I’ll take these.”

“Amazingly enough, we get along well with the MC,” Meghan continued. “We love their president. He’s a force to be reckoned with in this town, and he takes care of us. The MC owns this stretch of property the shop sits on.”

“The man at the coffee shop is not a biker,” Celia interjected, a bit petulantly. “He looks like some model for a sports magazine. He’s married though—ring on his finger.”

“All the good ones are taken,” Meghan said wistfully. She looked down at Caitlin’s left hand. “You’re not married?”

“Actually, I am. I lost my rings a couple of weeks ago when we went to the beach.”

The lie came out easily.
 

“Oh, no, I hope you have insurance,” Celia said.

“I believe it’s covered. At least, that’s what my husband said.” Caitlin moved over to the metalwork display. Celia followed her. “Some of the bikers in this town make those.”

“It’s creative,” Caitlin replied. She was suddenly hit with an unsettling feeling in her stomach. Metal. Why did that word affect her?

“Are you all right?” Celia asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. I think I had too many pancakes this morning.”

“Ms. Betty makes the best breakfast. It’s easy to overindulge,” Celia said. “On Sunday mornings I usually go help her in the kitchen and that lady sure can feed an army.”

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s menu. Something fancy like oatmeal soufflé,” Caitlin said, feeling better as her attention shifted back to food. She pointed to the sun catcher in front. “I’d like to take that as well, but I’m afraid I’ll break it if I take it down myself.” It was set up high, which her little stature couldn’t reach without jumping and yanking it down.

“Yes, we little ladies need the extra boost of a step stool. I can have these wrapped and delivered to the bed and breakfast if you want.”

“If it’s not too much trouble—”

“Not at all, sweetie.” Meghan smiled as she rang up another customer.

Caitlin was enjoying her little chitchat with Celia while her sister was attending to other customers when the doorbell chimed again.
 

Celia, who was facing the door, gushed, “Oh, my God. It’s the Greek God. Pssst, Meghan.”

Caitlin turned, and as she suspected, it was Travis who walked in. Her man smiled at her, and she heard Celia whisper none too quietly, “I think my panties just dropped.”

Caitlin’s lips twitched as she tried not to burst out laughing.

Travis stopped in front of Caitlin, ducked his head and kissed her lightly, “You were taking too long. Making sure I have time to make provisions for shipping your purchases in case you decided to buy the entire store.”

“Smart-ass. Just for that, I’ll fill up the back of the Suburban with pottery.”

Travis winced. “Not the first time. Mom used to drive Dad crazy with her penchant for ceramic.”

“I’m done though, just need to pay up.”

Travis walked past her to the cash register, presumably to settle her purchases with Meghan. Caitlin noticed Celia was flushed red with embarrassment and mouthed “Sorry” to her. She just grinned at her.
 

Celia started to mock-fan herself with her hands and then pointing to Travis, she mouthed “Hot” and gave Caitlin a thumbs-up.

A warm feeling gripped her heart once more. At this moment, all her troubles melted away, and she was feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

*****

Tents of various size and color were set up for the weekly epicurean market held at the main park in Iron Ridge. Food vendors, some from out of town, came to showcase their culinary expertise and specialty. The market was crowded. Again, it was a mix of hipsters and bikers. The out-of-towners were easy to spot in their shorts, sneakers, and baseball caps.
 

Caitlin sat on a wooden bench waiting for Travis to return with her order of carnitas in soft corn tortillas from the taco slinger situated in the center of the market. That particular vendor had the longest line, so she figured it must be good. Travis tried to steer her toward the North Carolina barbecue stall, but she had insisted on the taco. Shaking his head in resignation, he told her to find them a bench, and he’d fall in line for their food.

It was fun being a stranger in a small town where she could people watch and while away the hours of the day with the sun warming her skin. She closed her eyes momentarily, soaking in the sounds of people’s chatter and children laughing, the light breeze that grazed her skin like a lover’s touch and finally, the aroma of hickory wood, scenting the air with the mouth-watering offerings of this food extravaganza.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Bennett.”

And just like that, the mood was gone.

She opened her eyes to stare up at Nicholas Crane, who was holding a hotdog in one hand, and a beer in the other. Ashe and another leather-clad biker were right behind him.

“Mind if we join you?”

“As a matter of fact—”

“Thank you.” The biker boss sat his ass beside her. The other guys just stood around the bench, keeping a watchful eye on the place.

“There’s a variety of gourmet food around here and you order a hotdog?” Caitlin scrunched her nose in mock disdain.

Crane laughed, “Ah, my dear. This is not a hotdog. This is homemade garlic sausage. The guy who makes this is from the south of France and insists it’s delicious. And it is.”

“Fancy,” Caitlin grinned.
 

“We’re more cultured than you think. Just because we’re bikers from the backwoods doesn’t mean we’re all beer and burgers.”

Caitlin took a good look at Nicholas Crane. He had the weathered face of a rancher with deep bronze skin setting off his longish salt and pepper hair. He had a biker goatee that went past his chin and tapered to an edge. He had sun glasses on right now, and was wearing a shirt under his leather cut. And jewelry; lots and lots of chains around his neck.
 

“So, you guys are here every week?”

“Yep. The epicurean market runs from the end of May to the middle of September,” Crane replied taking a chomp off his hotdog—or rather sausage. “Lots of out-of-towners. Need to make sure we keep the peace.”

“Quite the hands-on president, aren’t you? I thought you had underlings for that.”

Ashe snickered. Crane chuckled. “Patched members, honey. We’re a brotherhood, not some mafia organization. We also have Prospects.”

“Let me guess . . . bikers on probation?”

“Something like that. They need to learn to live the life, love the life before they earn that patch.”

“Okey-dokey,” Ashe said in an amused tone. “Angry white male incoming at twelve o’ clock.”

Caitlin looked up to see Travis, beers in one hand, a plastic bag of tacos in the other, bearing down on them. He was wearing the scowl from hell. She smiled broadly to put him at ease. She was comfortable with Crane; Travis needed to calm down.

“Crane, Ashe,” Travis greeted tightly as he nodded to the other biker. “You okay, Caitlin?”

“More than okay,” Caitlin replied. “Have a seat, Travis. Crane was just educating me on the culture of motorcycle clubs.”

“You can relax, Bennett. We just wanted to keep your pretty wife company. She seems to be quite taken with the biker lifestyle.”

“Fantastic,” Travis muttered, handing Caitlin a beer and setting down the bag of food beside her. She rummaged through its contents and said, “Jesus, Travis, how many tacos did you order?”

“Babe, have you seen the line? Knowing your appetite, I simply took preemptive action.”

“Like a true soldier,” Crane murmured.
 

Crane and Travis locked stares. Caitlin glanced at Ashe whose eyes were filled with mirth. Their club president and her husband were having a wordless pissing contest.

Crane spoke first. “Thought I’d let you know, I sent Duke off for a few days to a neighboring county. So you can rest easy that no one will be snatching your wife any time soon.”
 

“Much appreciated.”

Crane raised a brow. “Not much of a talker are you, son?”

“I’m not too keen on sharing personal information with strangers.”

“Now you’ve just gone and hurt my feelings,” Crane mocked. “Your wife is more trusting. I like her more than you.”

Okay, why was Crane baiting Travis?

“Would you mind, Crane? I’m trying to enjoy lunch with my wife,” Travis gritted through his teeth.

“Travis!” Caitlin exclaimed.

Crane smiled wolfishly and stood up. “No problem, Bennett. Nice chatting with you, pretty Caitlin.” He nodded to Travis and all three bikers sauntered away.

“That was rude,” Caitlin groused.

“For someone who’s been on the run, you’re too trusting, Cat.”

“Well excuse me if I wanted a slice of normalcy.”

Travis sighed and Caitlin felt a twinge of guilt knowing it was costing him to calm down and be more sympathetic to her.

“Sunshine, we’ll get there. I swear. I’ll eliminate all these threats to you so I can give you the life I’ve always wanted for us.”

His eyes flared with so much determination and fierce love, her breath caught.

“Oh, Travis—”

“I love you very much. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Travis settled back on the bench and began to eat his taco. After a few minutes he asked, “What was Crane asking you?”

“Nothing. He did most of the talking.”

“About what?”

“Well, if you’re interested, we talked about garlic sausages and motorcycle clubs.”

His lips tipped up in a half-grin. “Interesting conversation. Garlic sausage?”

“It’s called a Toulouse sausage. It’s French. I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all when Crane was explaining where it was from. But that type of sausage is used in a popular French stew called cassoulet, which happened to be one of my favorites when I lived in the south of France.”

“Trust you to know everything about food.”

“Love to eat,” Caitlin said primly as she reached for another taco. “I’m glad you got enough. I can definitely eat two or three.”

“I think I’ve gotten the hang of how much food that stomach of yours can handle,” Travis chuckled.

“Is that so?” Caitlin cast him a mock-glare, but lustily enjoyed the view of his exposed throat, seeing that he’d thrown back his head to take a swig of his beer. How she’d like to lick the length of that and nip at the edges of his firm jaw. Travis’s eyes slanted and caught her look. Tipping his head down, his free hand shot out and caught the back of her head, bringing her face close for a kiss.