Grange had taught them combat the right way, which meant that every battle didn’t have to end with someone dead. He’d taught them how to handle weapons, and he’d worked their asses off, mentally and physically, turning boys into men. When they were finished, they’d become sanctioned agents working for the United States government. Not a bad gig for AJ, who hadn’t thought much of himself or his chances at the age of nineteen. He’d blown this small town, thinking he was on the losing end of his future, content to mix with the wrong crowd as long as the money was good and he got it in a hurry. He’d just wanted freedom and cold, hard cash; he thought they were his ticket to the big time.
He’d been wrong. And maybe he was back to show a few people how wrong they’d been about him. Of course Dale wasn’t around these parts anymore. Not that he cared what Dale thought. To his stepfather, no matter what AJ did, he’d never be good enough. And it wasn’t like he could tell his family what he did for a living anyway. That was confidential. But maybe he wanted to check on a few people and see how they were doing.
He leaned against the bike, sucked down the last drop of water and tossed it into the nearby trash can, surveying the few cars that traveled the twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit down the main street of town. It was after eight P.M. on a Friday. And for a small town, that meant people out and about here in the suburbs, less than an hour’s drive from St. Louis. Attractive to those who liked the quiet life, but close enough for those who wanted to work in the city. As small towns went, it was big enough to have a movie theater, a bowling alley and a mall, but small enough that everyone pretty much knew everyone else. He’d liked growing up here—mostly.
And when he’d left, he’d vowed he’d never come back. He wasn’t sure what had led him this way when he and Pax decided to take a vacation.
“You ready to ride?” Pax asked. “I’m getting bored watching traffic go by. How about we hit a bar?”
AJ nodded. “I know just the place, if it’s still open. It used to cater to bikers.” They grabbed their helmets and climbed on their bikes, and AJ led the way out of the parking lot. They blended into traffic, two Harleys mixing in with minivans, SUVs and fuel-efficient commuter cars.
The town had grown in ten years, retail establishments popping up all over the formerly quiet side roads. AJ used to be able to count the retail as he rode by—the dry-cleaner’s, hardware store and a single donut shop. Now there were strip malls filled with anything and everything from salons to the trendy coffee shops to big grocery stores. That signaled population growth, which AJ supposed was good for the people.
And speaking of people, there sure as hell seemed to be more of them now than there were ten years ago. Whereas before on a Friday night there might be five or six cars at the single stoplight on the main road in town, now he and Pax were shuffled behind a block of cars, sucking up exhaust while they waited through more stoplights than he could remember.
Progress. He wrinkled his nose at the changes in his hometown and goosed the throttle as they made it through the last stoplight on their way to the outskirts. Even here, new business had sprouted up. AJ doubted the bar still stood.
But as they rounded the bend in the road, he was surprised to see that not only was Greasy Rider still standing, it had grown. Where once had stood a one-room metal building with a tin roof, now there was a building three times its original size, in brick with a shingled roof and a neon sign.
And a full parking lot, loaded with bikes and cars.
They parked and Pax stepped over to AJ. “Pretty big place.”
“Bigger than it used to be. When I was here last, it was a hole-in-the-wall shack.”
Pax slapped him on the back. “Progress, my man. Everything either grows or dies.”
“I guess.” They headed toward the front door, where the sound of classic rock music blasted them as they opened it.
AJ blinked to adjust to the darkness in the bar. Smoke only added to his inability to see, along with the black leather uniform of the day.
This place was biker heaven, with wall-to-wall bikers lined up against the long bar, crowded around the half dozen pool tables and taking up seats in the TV area. Yeah, the bar had definitely expanded. Where the hell had all these bikers come from? When AJ had lived here, there were a handful of biker groups and gangs, and they’d all hung out at Greasy’s on the weekends. But even when they were all there, the one-room place hadn’t seemed congested.
He muscled his way past the crowd, thankful for a good working air conditioner.
“I’ll get us some beers,” Pax said. “Why don’t you put us down for some time on a pool table?”
AJ nodded and headed toward the tables, the least crowded part of the bar. At least it was cooler over there. He put his quarter up behind three others, so they’d have to wait to play. In the meantime, he grabbed a couple of stools and took a seat, waiting for Pax to find him with their beers.
And then he waited a little longer, but still no sign of Pax. Knowing his friend, he’d found some chick to hit on. It never took Pax long to locate the women. He either zeroed in on them right away, or his good looks would attract them like a magnet. And since they often shared women, that worked to AJ’s advantage, too, so it wasn’t like he minded. And he sure as hell wouldn’t mind a little female diversion tonight.
He stood and spotted Pax leaning against the bar, shook his head and smiled. Figured Pax would hit up a female bartender. By the end of the night they’d probably have free drinks and a bed partner. AJ headed over there and slid in between Pax and another guy, shoving his elbow in Pax’s ribs.
“I’m dying of thirst over there while you’re lining up a date,” AJ complained.
Pax turned to him and passed a bottle of beer his way. “Not my fault this beautiful lady struck up a conversation with me.”
AJ shook his head, grabbed the beer and turned to the bartender, prepared to work her just like Pax was doing.
The gut punch to his memories almost made him drop the bottle on the bar.
This was no stranger Pax had just hit on.
It was Teresa. Teresa Oliveri, the one person he’d really come here to see.
Ten years had changed her, and all for the better. Raven hair fell long and straight over her shoulders and settled over her generous br**sts. Her eyes, still as green as emeralds, widened with the same shock and recognition.