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  She snapped herself into professional mode because if she didn't, she'd melt into a puddle of goo on the asphalt. "Good morning, Kade! Ready to go to work?"

  He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to his effect on her. "You're the boss."

  "Great. Since you're dressed in leathers, let's get some motorcycle shots. Do we have any motorcycles to choose from?"

  Kade leaned over to lift the bay door and she got a tantalizing view of his backside.

  He asked, "What's your preference—a Harley, Titan, Yamaha, Indian."

  Skye set her equipment down just inside the garage. "Maybe I should look at them first."

  He led her to a door opening into another room at the back of the garage that she hadn't been in. Once inside, she almost squealed with delight at the four bikes. They were big, shiny, and perfect. Immediately, her eyes went to the Harley. She pointed, "Oh, that one is perfect!" She glanced around. "Where's the one you were working on yesterday?"

  "That one belonged to a client. He picked it up after you left." He gave her one of his rare grins. "These all belong to me. And the Harley would have been my choice too. It's a 1976 Ironhead Sportster I customized." He pushed the kickstand up and asked, "Where do you want it?"

  Skye tapped a finger to her temple. "Why don't we take some shots outside the garage first? You do know, don't you, that your place of business has a vintage look that will have people drooling?" She didn't add that while men would be ogling the garage and bike, females, young and old, would be ogling him.

  Kade rolled the bike outside and slid the bay door down at Skye's behest. She wanted to maintain the vintage look and the modern equipment inside kind of spoiled that.

  Kade positioned the bike according to Skye's instructions. The early morning sun was perfect, but a trick she'd learned early on was to set her camera for a cloudy day because it created a warm look. She sited her tripod and then did a few candids of Kade pretending to examine his bike. After that, she asked him to sit astride the Harley and then she repositioned the tripod. She hadn't brought her lighting gear because she didn't want to overwhelm him.

  Skye was so intent on photographing Kade that she didn't realize several onlookers had gathered until a man yelled, "Hey, Kade, you sure are lookin' purdy!"

  A female responded, "Shut up, Bubba! You're just jealous 'cause it ain't you lookin' sexy in them leathers."

  The onlookers snickered and Skye couldn't help but grin. She caught Kade's eye and asked, "You ready for a break?"

  "Yeah." From his straddled position on the bike, he stood, lifted a boot to the kick starter, pressed something on the dash, and kicked down a couple of times. The machine vroomed into life. He yelled above the sound, "We'll lock your cameras in my office and then head out."

  Skye frowned and gestured wildly. "I'm not riding on the back of that thing!"

  Kade dismounted and lifted the garage door. He then returned to carry her tripod with the camera still attached, inside the garage. The people standing around, realizing the session was over began disbursing. Bubba yelled a few more jabs, but his words were unintelligible over the sound of the bike. Skye stood with her hands on her hips, refusing to budge. When Kade didn't immediately return, she glanced at the rumbling bike and then stalked inside the garage to find him. He was in his office with his back to her.

  She said forcefully. "I don't like bikes!"

  Kade was grinning when he turned around. "Come on; a worldly woman like you? You've probably ridden in some pretty scary vehicles in third world countries. Don't tell me you're afraid of a Harley?"

  Skye remained stubborn. "You got it. I can ride ancient buses on narrow ravine roads, but I've got a phobia about bikes. They scare the hell out of me."

  Kade's grin didn't waver as he walked to the wall and lifted two helmets off hooks. He tossed one at Skye. "Put this on."

  Skye caught the helmet and held it next to her stomach. She gave him a mutant look.

  His eyes twinkled when he said, "I'll give you an extra hour of posing tomorrow if you come with me."

  She cocked her head. "And you'll go with me to Phoenix to buy clothing for another session?"

  Kade's grin slipped into a frown. "I can't afford new clothes. You'll have to make due with what's in my closet."

  Skye responded, "I don't expect you to buy anything. It's a perk of being a model. Your clothes are free."

  "Really, now? So who's footing the bill?"

  Skye thought quickly and told a white lie. "Why a top agent who saw some of your photos. I forgot to tell you that Tyron found an interested one." She grinned. "He wants to see how well you clean up."

  "So, what you're saying is that if I go shopping with you, you'll ride the bike with me?"

  Skye pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. Did she really want to ride the bike? Hell, no. But did she want to dress Kade in expensive duds? Hell, yes! Her "want" outweighed her aversion to motorcycles by a long shot.

  She puffed a breath, placed the helmet on the desk so she could remove the camera hanging from her neck, and locked eyes with Kade. When she reached for the helmet again to put it on, his smile returned and he put his on, too.

  Chapter 12: Benny's Biker Bar

  Kade secured the door to his office and led the way outside pulling the bay door down and locking it. The bike still rumbled and he turned to Skye, giving her a few instructions. She looked scared and cute as hell and he wanted to laugh, but he kept a serious face. His final instruction was, "When you settle in behind me, grab my waist and hold on until you feel more comfortable. After that, you can lean back against the sissy bar and enjoy the scenery." She looked skeptical and that did make him grin.

  Kade kicked up the kickstand, straddled the bike, and then motioned for Skye to climb on behind him. He almost thought she was going to back out of their agreement, but she cowboyed up and mounted the bike, grabbing him tightly around the waist. He patted her hand and slowly propelled the Harley onto the road. When he gunned the bike faster she squealed and gripped his waist in a death grip. Kade liked the feel of her jammed against his back, but refused to entertain other thoughts that kept trying to gain a foothold. He could feel Skye's face mashed between his shoulder blades, which made him chuckle.

  For the first ten minutes, she glued her body to his, but then he felt her relax a little, and then a little more. When they reached the highway she tensed again. It wasn't until they'd traveled several miles that she loosened her grip. Whenever they passed semis, however, she once again clutched his waist and buried her face in his back. After a long, quiet stretch of highway, she finally relaxed against the sissy bar.

  Kade signaled that he was taking the off ramp and turned onto a side road toward BENNY'S BIKER BAR. He figured Skye would get a kick out of visiting a real biker bar, and since it was early afternoon, there wouldn't be many patrons yet. The place was safe enough, not like on Friday and Saturday nights when the police were often called.

  BENNY'S had a large dusty parking area with an abandoned gas station on one side of the bar and a dozen or so shipwrecked looking trailers on the other.

  Kade parked close to the entrance. He shut the bike down and reached behind him to help Skye dismount. When she was off the bike he dismounted and reached to help her with her helmet before removing his own. Her hair stood out in riotous curls and his fingers itched to smooth them. He wanted to touch her, and that wasn't a good thing. He'd sworn off rich women years ago after he'd been burned by one.

  Skye turned to view her surroundings, going full circle, and then faced him. She said, "Now this is interesting. Good thing I brought my favorite camera." She lifted the pocket flap on her shirt and pulled out the small device. She smirked, "You want to pose at the entrance or inside."

  Kade lifted an eyebrow. "No, and no. Not gonna happen."

  "Spoiled sport." She made a cute pouty face, dropped the camera back in her pocket, and asked, "Do you come here often?"

  "Not too much."

  She grinned. "I don't
know if I'm disappointed or relieved to hear that."

  He hung their helmets on the side of the bike. "You can make up your mind about that after you've met the bartender and a few of the regulars." He recognized all three of the bikes in the parking lot.

  Reaching for Skye's hand, he led her inside the dimly lit bar. If not for being shadowed, the room would have scared the hell out of even him. It wasn't going to win any "clean and tidy" awards. The dozen or so tables were scattered across a concrete floor that had once been painted army green, but now was mostly gray concrete again. An old mop bucket stood in one corner with filthy water still in it. He wondered if the same water was used for every mopping. The focal point of the room, a long bar, was located to the left of patrons entering the grimy interior and a huge mural of a naked woman stretched the length above it. The owner's daughter, Sam, saw him enter and grinned widely. Her smile vanished a little when she saw him holding hands with Skye.

  When they reached the bar, Sam said, "Now look what the cat dragged in." Her gaze shifted to Skye and back to Kade. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about us."

  Kade grinned. "Now how could I ever forget about this place? Last time I was here on a Friday night I almost got hauled off to jail, and I was only an innocent bystander."

  Sam guffawed, "Innocent my ass. Maybe you were innocent of the fight," she leaned across the bar toward Kade, showcasing the cleavage of her large breasts, and finished with, "but you ain't innocent."

  Kade almost felt embarrassed. Sam was a beautiful woman with the body of a goddess, but he'd never been interested in her. She'd often tried to entice him into her bed, but he'd kept things light and friendly between them.

  Sam studied his face for a few seconds and then said, "So, Kade, are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

  "Of course. Samantha Hutchins, I'd like you to meet Skylar Rutherford, the sister of my cousin's husband."

  The diamond stud above Sam's full upper lip twinkled as she grimaced, "If you call me Samantha again, it will be the last thing you ever do." She turned her attention to Skye and stuck out her hand. "Hello, Skylar. Please call me Sam."

  Skye said, "And please call me Skye."

  Sam narrowed her eyes at Kade. "Doesn't look like you're making points with the female population, my man, introducing us with names we don't want to be called by."

  Kade grinned. "Just seeing how far I can go," and then inwardly groaned. He'd just walked into another innuendo that Sam wasn't about to let slide.

  "Oh, honey, we can go as far as you want, and even then some."

  Rather than respond, he said, "I'll have a Pepsi." He turned to Skye, who was glancing back and forth between him and Sam. "What would you like, Skye?"

  "Oh, I'll have a Dr. Pepper, please."

  Sam chuckled, "No Dr. Pepper here."

  "A Pepsi then."

  Kade heard a chair scrape behind him and then a raspy, "Howdy, Kade. Good to see you again."

  He turned to see Bo Hathaway and his squeeze, Jennie Mae, approaching.

  He said, "Hello Bo and Jennie Mae. The last time we talked you were headed to Texas. When did you get back?"

  Jennie Mae smiled and hooked her index fingers in her belt loops. She was a short and heavy woman, whereas Bo was tall and lean. She said, "We got back 'bout a week ago. I couldn't take no more of Bo's family. They only know one volume when talking—loud. They almost made me go deaf. Bo was even starting to sound like them again."

  Bo and Jennie Mae sidled up to the bar, with Jennie Mae next to Skye. The chubby woman said, "So, are you Kade's woman? We've never seen him bring a female in here."

  Skye blurted, "Oh, goodness no. We're ah…acquaintances…almost related."

  Jennie Mae chuckled, "Kissin' cousins, huh?"

  Kade interrupted, "What can I buy you, Bo and Jennie Mae?"

  Bo and his woman spoke at the same time. "Beer on tap."

  Sam nodded, reached for chilled glasses, and then filled them to overflowing.

  An older man sat at the end of the bar and Kade said, "Carl, drinks are on me. What's your poison?"

  Carl said, "Thanks, Kade. Good to see you." To Sam, he said, "Tequila—Cuervo Gold."

  "Comin' right up, Carl," Sam replied, and reached for a shot glass.

  For the next thirty minutes Kade kept up a running conversation with his biker friends. Sam asked how his grandmother was doing and he told her she was looking at a hip replacement. Carl said, "Hey, I had one of those 'bout five years ago. Best thing I ever did."

  That was good news to Kade and it eased his mind a little. He sure hoped this modeling shit would translate into cash soon. If not, he'd be forced to start selling his bikes. He'd do anything for his grandmother.

  Skye was mostly quiet but her eyes sparkled with interest as she listened to the joking and conversation around her. She seemed enthralled by the company of bikers. Kade was surprised that she kept her little camera in her pocket.

  The sound of several motorcycles roaring into the parking lot distracted their conversation and they all turned to see a group of Hell's Angels enter. Kade knew the leader and nodded at him. Dickey nodded back. Dickey had the kind of countenance that brooked no shit and no one ever teased him about his name. He was a mean looking short and beefy motherfucker at well over two hundred pounds. His wife was also short and just about as muscular as him. She grinned at Kade. "Hello, good-lookin', where you been keepin' yerself?"

  "Hello, Viola. I've been sticking close to home."

  Kade recognized the half dozen other bikers with Dickey and Viola, but had never talked much with them. He nodded greetings and they reciprocated.

  Sam said, "Cozy on up to the bar, folks. What'll ya have?"

  Dickey said, "We'll just sit at a table in the back, Sam. Me and Viola will have a bottle of Jack."

  The rest of the group followed him to a shadowy corner, calling out their drinks.

  Kade knew the group to be rowdy and if more bikers showed up, things could get out of hand. He decided it was time for him and Skye to hit the road. First, though, he needed to use the restroom. He said to Skye, loud enough for Sam to hear, "I'll be right back and then we'll head out." He caught Sam's attention and made a motion with his eyes that only she could see. She understood his unspoken request to keep an eye on Skye, and slightly nodded. Kade walked to the hallway and into the bathroom.

  There were only two urinals and one stall, and they were already taken by the newly arrived Hell's Angels. Kade leaned against the wall and waited his turn. The guys seemed to piss forever. Finally, one of them stepped away and Kade took his place. The guy still pissing at the other urinal decided to start up a conversation and Kade politely responded. Smitty—Kade remembered his name—eventually said goodbye and left the bathroom. As Kade was washing up, the Hell's Angel inside the stall opened the door and started another conversation.

  It was several minutes before Kade returned to the bar. He rounded the corner and his stomach dropped. Skye was gone, and so were Dickey and his gang. For that matter, there weren't any patrons at all except for Kade and the guy he'd been talking to. He jerked his eyes toward Sam and was just about to shout, "Where the hell is she?" when Sam said, "Keep you're boxers on, she's taking pictures outside."

  Chapter 13: Posing Hell's Angels

  Skye was having the time of her life. How many photographers got the opportunity to take close up and personal photos of Hell's Angels? When Kade had gone to the restroom, she hadn't intended to talk to anyone, but when the big burley guy called out, "Hey, you, skinny girl with Kade, I didn't git yer name," Sam had replied for her, "Hey, Dickie, leave the girl alone. Can't you see she's a newbie?" She'd snickered and looked at Skye. "I bet this is your first time in a biker bar? Ain't that right, Skylar?"

  Skye had been so intrigued by her surroundings that she hadn't felt offended. She'd turned to Dickey. "Sam's right. I'm a newbie to biker bars, but I've visited several pubs all over the world in places like Timbuktu in West Africa; Ma
racaibo in Venezuela; Pereira in Columbia; Port-au-Prince in Haiti; and some others that don't come to mind right now."

  The room had gone deathly silent, and then Dickie asked, "What the fuck were you doing in those countries, skinny girl?"

  Before responding to his question, she'd said, "Please call me Skye. As for my reason for being out of the country a lot, I'm a photographer."

  To that Dickey had replied, "You got any pictures in magazines?"

  "Oh, yes, several. National Geographic often asks me to go on assignment. My photos even made their cover a couple of times. I've also had pictures picked up by Ladies Home Journal, Harper's Bizarre, News Week, The New Yorker, and multiple travel magazines." She'd glanced at Sam to see her mouth gaping. When the bartender had snapped it shut, Skye had wondered if it made her lip hurt where the diamond stud and a couple of rings were poking through.

  Dickey had continued, "So, what are you doing at BENNY'S? Are you featuring it in a travel magazine?" he'd snickered.

  "Oh, no. I'm here with Kade. I think he's incredible model material and I've been creating his portfolio for potential agents."

  The other patrons had been listening raptly to Dickey and Skye's conversation, and Jennie Mae interjected, "Well, shut my mouth."

  Dickey had spoken up again. "Is there money in takin' them pictures?"

  "There can be. If Kade hits supermodel status, he'll make enough money to set him up for life."

  Jennie Mae had shrieked, "Hells bells!"

  Sam's jaw had dropped again.

  That's when Dickey asked, "Ya wanna take my picture?"

  Skye had almost toppled off her barstool. "Yes! I'd love to! I brought my little camera with me. But you'll have to fill out a release form saying its okay for me to sell your photos. The form also asks for contact info in case I need to reach you. And you should know upfront that the split is sixty-forty, with me getting sixty percent."

  Dickey had tossed back a shot of whiskey and leveled his gaze on her. Finally, he'd said, "I got this instinct 'bout people and you're not one to cheat others. How 'bout you take all our pictures and then we'll fill out your forms?"