Questions I won't answer
1344 Words
(Mira)
I made it through the rest of my shift without thinking too much about Ridge watching me. Or at least, I tried not to think about it. Every time I walked past the bar, I could feel his eyes on me. Not in a creepy way. More like he was trying to figure something out.
Good luck with that. I barely had myself figured out.
By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, my feet hurt and I smelled like beer and fried food. Hank counted out my tips and handed me sixty three dollars in cash. Not bad for a Thursday night.
"You're doing good," he said. "Keep it up and you'll make decent money here."
"Thanks."
I headed upstairs, locked my door, and collapsed on the bed. My phone was still off. I'd been checking it every few hours, turning it on just long enough to see if Tyler had tried to call again. So far, nothing new. Maybe he'd given up.
Or maybe he was just biding his time.
I turned the phone off again and closed my eyes. Sleep came fast.
The next morning, I woke up to someone knocking on my door. For a second I thought it was Tyler and my heart went crazy. Then I remembered where I was.
"Yeah?" I called out.
"It's Harlow. Can I come in?"
I got out of bed and opened the door. Ridge's sister stood there holding two coffee cups and a paper bag.
"I brought breakfast," she said, walking in without waiting for permission. "Hope you like donuts."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know. But I wanted to." She set everything on the dresser and handed me a coffee. "Black, right? You seem like a black coffee person."
She was right, but I didn't tell her that. "Thanks."
"So." Harlow sat on the edge of my bed like we'd known each other for years. "I know I bombarded you with questions last night at the bar. Sorry about that. I get excited when there's someone new in town. Which doesn't happen often because Crosswell is tiny and boring."
"It's fine."
"Good. Because I have a favor to ask." She pulled a donut out of the bag. Chocolate glazed. "My mom's having a family dinner tonight and she's making Ridge bring someone. He's probably going to ask you."
I froze. "Why would he ask me?"
"Because you're new and interesting, and my mom's been on his case about dating for like two years. She thinks he works too much and doesn't have a social life." Harlow grinned. "Don't worry, it's not a real date or anything. She just wants to meet you. She's nosy like that. Comes with the territory of being a mom, I guess."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not? Free food, and my mom's an amazing cook. Like, really amazing. She does this thing with chicken that will change your life. Plus, my dad's hilarious when he's had a few drinks. He tells these stories about Ridge when he was younger that make him sound like a complete idiot."
"I barely know Ridge."
"That's the point. You get to know him. And us. We're very lovable once you get past the whole biker thing." She finished her donut and stood up. "Just think about it, okay? Ridge will probably ask you later anyway. And if he doesn't, I'll drag you there myself."
She left before I could argue.
I drank my coffee and ate a donut, thinking about what she'd said. A family dinner. With Ridge's parents. That sounded like the kind of thing people did when they were actually dating, not when one person had just given the other a job.
But Harlow had been nice to me. And the idea of sitting in my room alone tonight didn't sound great either.
I pushed the thought away and got ready for my shift.
Ridge showed up at the bar around five. I was wiping down tables when he walked over.
"Got a minute?" he asked.
"Sure."
He looked uncomfortable, which was weird. Ridge didn't seem like the type to get uncomfortable about anything.
"My sister probably already told you," he said. "But my mom wants me to bring someone to dinner tonight. Harlow thought you might want to come."
There it was.
"It's not really my thing," I said.
"Fair enough. Just thought I'd ask." He started to walk away, then stopped. "But my mom makes really good food, and Harlow won't shut up about you if you don't show up. She'll probably come here every day until you say yes."
I hesitated. The smart thing would be to say no. Keep my head down, work my shifts, save my money, and leave.
But I was tired of being alone. And maybe, just for one night, I could pretend things were normal.
"Okay," I said. "I'll come."
He looked surprised. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. But I don't have anything nice to wear."
"I can get something from one of the old ladies. Cassidy's about your size."
"Ridge, really, I can just wear what I have."
He stepped closer. Not threatening, but enough that I had to look up to meet his eyes. "Mira. Let me help you."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. The same tone he'd used when he told me trouble in his town was his business.
My stomach did something weird. Not scared. Something else.
"Okay," I said.
"Good." He stepped back. "Six o'clock."
He walked away and I stood there trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
At six, Cassidy showed up with a dress. It was simple, dark blue, with long sleeves and a hem that hit just above the knee. Not too fancy, but nicer than anything I'd brought with me.
"Ridge said you needed something to wear," she said, handing it over. "This should fit."
"Thank you. I'll get it back to you tomorrow."
"Keep it. I've got a closet full of stuff I never wear." She looked me over. "You nervous?"
"Should I be?"
"Nah. Ridge's parents are great. His mom's a little intense, but she means well. And his dad's a sweetheart." Cassidy grinned. "Just don't let them talk you into staying for drinks after dinner. They'll keep you there all night telling embarrassing stories about Ridge and Harlow."
"Noted."
She left and I changed into the dress. It fit perfectly. I brushed my hair and put on the little bit of makeup I had with me. When I looked in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself.
Harlow had been right about one thing earlier. Mira was short for something. Mirabelle. My grandmother's name. But I'd stopped using it years ago. Tyler had always called me Mirabelle, drawing it out like he was tasting it. My parents called me Belle.
Mira felt like mine. Like something clean and separate from all of that.
I went downstairs at six thirty. Ridge was waiting by the door in dark jeans and a black button down shirt. He'd left his vest behind, which made him look different. Less like a biker, more like a regular guy.
He looked me over when I walked up. "You look good."
"Thanks. So do you."
His mouth almost curved into a smile. Almost.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I'll ever be."
We headed outside to his truck. Not the motorcycle this time. He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed in.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, I looked out the window at the town going by. Small houses. Street lights coming on. People walking dogs.
Ridge's hand rested on the gearshift between us. He drove like he did everything else. Confident. Sure.
For the first time in months, I wasn't thinking about what came next. Wasn't planning my escape route or counting the money in my pocket.
I was just here. In this truck. With this man who'd pulled over on a highway to help a stranger.
And for tonight, that was enough.
- Writer
