Guardian in Disguise. Rachel Lee
maybe she was just focusing on Max because a hunk had walked into view. Maybe this was all some kind of female reaction and not her nose for news at all.
A Harley roared by her as she strode down the sidewalk toward campus, and even from the back she could see it was Max, helmet notwithstanding. Of course. He would have a Harley, big and black, a machine that throbbed with energy and a deep-throated roar. It fit.
Hadn’t she read somewhere that motorcycle cops had thrown fits in some state when officials had wanted to replace their Harleys with something less expensive? Apparently other motorcycles just didn’t sound as good.
Or something. That had been a long time ago, and she couldn’t even remember where she’d read it. Maybe Max had been a motorcycle cop. That would have made his life more boring than most, though handing out traffic tickets was one of the most dangerous jobs cops faced. Even so, most motorcycle cops never ran into any real trouble.
And almost none of them made the news.
She shook her head at herself, deciding she was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. It wasn’t as if her instincts were infallible. She could be very wrong about this.
Much to her amazement, the Harley stopped at the corner and pulled a U-turn, coming back to idle beside her. “Want a lift?” Max asked as he raised the smoky visor that concealed his face.
She was tempted to tell him no, that she enjoyed walking on such a lovely morning, and that would have been true. But equally true was the fact that she hadn’t been on a motorcycle since her college days, and she’d liked it back then. It was tempting.
Even more tempting was wrapping her arms around his waist and discovering if his stomach was as hard and flat as it had looked in that T-shirt. Having her legs extended around his.
Was she losing her mind? Common sense reared. “Thanks,” she said, “but no helmet.”
He flipped open a steel compartment on the side of the hog and pulled one out. “I always carry an extra.” Reaching out, he strapped it to her head, securing it beneath her chin. “You done this before?”
“A long, long time ago.” Part of her wanted to rebel at the way he was taking charge, but another, stronger part of her really wanted to ride behind him on that bike.
So he guided her onto the seat behind him, warning her about the exhaust pipes, and helped her place her feet properly.
“Lean with me,” he reminded her, and then she was sailing toward the school with her arms and legs wrapped around him, thinking how envious all those young girls were going to be when they saw this.
The thought startled her, it was so juvenile, and she laughed out loud at herself.
“It’s fun, isn’t it,” his muffled voice said, misunderstanding the source of her laughter. There was certainly no reason to tell him the truth.
Well, she could now testify that his stomach was hard and flat beneath the leather jacket, and the thighs she was pressed against were every bit as hard. Being wrapped around him this way was causing a deep throbbing in her center.
Oh, man, she had it bad. The bug had bitten. Knowing not one thing about him, really, she wanted to have sex with him. Shouldn’t she have outgrown that a long time ago?
All too soon he pulled them into a faculty parking slot, and seconds later the engine’s roar choked off.
“Wow,” she said. “I haven’t done that in so long.”
“Maybe one Saturday before the weather turns cold I’ll take her out on the mountain roads,” he said easily. “I’ll bet it’s beautiful up there.”
“Right now especially.”
He twisted, offering one arm to help her lever herself off the bike. She was honestly sorry when her feet hit firm ground again. Reluctantly, she reached up to unsnap the helmet.
“That was awesome,” she admitted as she handed the helmet back, then watched him stow it. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He pulled his own helmet off and hesitated. “Maybe, if you want, you could take that mountain ride with me.”
It was her turn to hesitate. The ride sounded like incredible fun, but she still couldn’t escape that strange feeling about him. “I don’t know anything about you,” she said finally.
His polar-ice eyes narrowed a hair, then he surprised her by laughing. “Of course you don’t. We just met. Do you want my fingerprints and birth certificate first?”
All of a sudden she felt foolish for her suspicions. “No, of course not.”
He leaned toward her a little, his teeth still gleaming in a smile. “Getting to know each other takes time, Liza. Don’t you think?”
Then he hopped off the bike, waved and headed to his class.
She stood there feeling utterly flat-footed. How had he done that? He’d told her exactly not one thing more about himself yet had managed to make her feel foolish for even wondering.
Yet, she argued with herself, he was right. It took time to get to know someone personally. But she was still annoyed by the feeling that he was deflecting her.
Why should he? Surely the college wouldn’t have hired someone with a criminal record. They did background checks as well she knew. So why couldn’t she be satisfied with just knowing that he was another instructor like her? Exactly like her.
Because something about him seemed different? Because something didn’t feel quite right?
Sheesh. Shouldering her backpack, she started the short hike to her office. She hated questioning her own instincts, but maybe it was time to start. She was rusty, and even when she hadn’t been rusty she’d made an occasional mistake.
Well, she thought they were occasional mistakes only because she hadn’t come up with anything about the person who aroused her suspicions. That didn’t exactly mean those persons were okay.
When she reached her office, she tossed her bag on her desk and powered up her computer. She needed to check the presentation for her first class, a comparison between a TV news story and the actual facts of a legal case that showed how easily a reporter could create a false impression. It was important to her that her students understood exactly how the news could be bent before they got into the nitty-gritty of trying to write it.
Maybe she was getting a false impression now. Maybe Max was nobody at all but a former cop with a law degree who had decided to take a break by teaching at a community college. Maybe all her questions arose from the simple fact that he seemed out of place here.
It could all be as simple as that. As simple as her training driving her to look for the story behind the story, even if there wasn’t one. Man, no wonder guys didn’t much hang out with her. Not only had she worked weird hours, but dating her must have been like dating an inquisitor, now that she thought about it.
Few answers were good enough for her. She always wanted more information.
All of a sudden she remembered a boyfriend from five years ago who had erupted at her. “I can’t just say it’s a nice day,” he had snapped. “You always want to know exactly what kind of nice day it is. Did something good happen? What’s the temperature? Can I tell you the exact color blue of the sky?”
She winced at the memory, mostly because there was more than a kernel of truth to it.
She had defended herself by demanding to know what was wrong with curiosity. She still believed there was nothing wrong with it, but maybe she was just too impatient for the answers. She’d give Max some time, she decided. If she kept getting the feeling he was too much of a mystery, then she could start digging.
She wondered how long she’d be able to rein herself in.
She learned the answer not two minutes later when she realized she was researching active law licenses in