Silver Biker: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge by L.B. Dunbar

Author:L.B. Dunbar [Dunbar, L.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L.B. Dunbar Writes, Ltd.
Published: 2020-10-07T23:00:00+00:00

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Eighteen years ago . . .

James and I had had a huge fight around the time Michael was due to be born. A fight that sent me running away. I didn’t know where to go, so I just left, driving aimlessly out of town until I remembered his pap’s cabin and wondered if I could find it.

I was pregnant, tired, and emotionally spent. My new husband had told me he had never wanted to get married. He had never wanted children. And I lost it. He was implying I trapped him, or at least that was how I interpreted it.

“Well, don’t do me any favors,” I remember shouting at him after I threw a lemon across the kitchen at him. James ducked from the first one. He caught the second one like a professional baseball player.

“What the fuck?” he hollered back at me.

“I know you gave up Dolores and all your other fuck buddies, and for what? This?” I jabbed at my belly, feeling fat and disgusting, instead of beautiful like he said I was every day. James had been attentive and seductive on most days. He craved sex, and my libido had not waned with the pregnancy, but I was coming close to the end of my term. My hormones were kicking back up again, bouncing my emotions all over the place, and large tears skated down my face as I yelled at him.

“Leave Dolores out of this. And other fuck buddies?” he choked. “You have no idea what I gave up for you.”

My mouth fell open. It was the last straw.

“I hate you,” I yelled. He knew what I’d given up to be with him.

Finally, I’d ended up at his grandfather’s cabin. His elderly grandfather still used it on occasion although the family was worried about him being alone in the woods.

“Hello, Sunshine,” his pap greeted me. Pap always called me sunshine because of my bright blond hair, but I didn’t feel like the sunny star. More like the darkness of the surrounding universe.

“To what do I owe this honor?” He had a lopsided grin, and I could see where the Harrington men got their charm.

“I’m running away from home,” I teased even though it wasn’t far from the truth.

Pap let out a loud laugh. The fierce body of an aging man jiggled like a jolly Santa, and he looked a bit like St. Nick wearing his suspenders over a full belly. “What’d he do?”

I shook my head although the tears blurred my vision.

Pap looked toward the ceiling of the covered porch. “Did you see this, Charlotte? I told you she’d come to her senses about that one.” He was addressing the heavens where his dear wife had been to rest for a while.

“Let me grab us a beer . . . er, ah, in your case a lemonade.” He shuffled back through the screen door while I took a seat in one of two rocking chairs on the porch. When he returned, he handed me

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