The Traveling Man by Jane Harvey-Berrick

Author:Jane Harvey-Berrick [Harvey-Berrick, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Traveling Man
Publisher: Harvey Berrick Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Over the next four days, Kes and I texted constantly. His spelling was still horrible, and autocorrect did some very strange things to some of his messages, but I usually managed to work out what he was trying to say, although sometimes it felt like code-breaking rather than communicating.

But more than that, there was something of the old ease we used to have. We didn’t talk at all, and I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was too happy enjoying the soft ching from my phone as another message from Kes dropped in.

He didn’t mention Sorcha at all, and I couldn’t help torturing myself with images of them together. You know, together together. Ugh.

His messages were so sweet and funny, telling me about his day, and how the stunts had gone—actually, that bit wasn’t cute; that bit gave me cold chills. Generally, he just told me what he was up to. I liked the idea that he was thinking about me. And I was definitely thinking about him. I sent a few selfies of me with Dylan, and he sent one back of him in his leathers and helmet.

It was so good to be able to text without worrying about who was going to catch us. Unless, of course, he was worried about Sorcha seeing my messages. Maybe that was why he didn’t call me or suggest that I call him.

The thought made my stomach lurch. So, as with all important things in my life, I decided not to think about it. If I didn’t think about it, it wasn’t happening and wasn’t real. Yes, I could be very mature.

Dylan was excited to see Kes again, too. He’d convinced himself that ‘Motorcycle Man’ was coming to perform stunts in our backyard. No matter how many times Jennifer told him that wasn’t the case, Dylan had it in his head that Kes would turn up with the whole show.

We arranged that Kes would arrive at lunchtime so we could have a picnic under the sprawling bur oak that spread its wide branches across half the backyard. But it was barely 11AM when I heard the throaty roar of a motorcycle.

“That’s him!” Dylan yelled excitedly.

“It can’t be,” I muttered under my breath.

But Dylan was right and I was wrong.

I walked around to the front of the house where Dylan was hopping from foot to foot, and saw Kes dismount.

He wasn’t wearing the full set of leathers today, but he looked deadly and delicious in dark jeans and a black motorcycle jacket.

I couldn’t tell if he was riding one of the stunt bikes or not. It didn’t look like a road bike, but I was hardly an expert.

He pulled off his helmet and gloves, and grinned at Dylan, his eyes skipping quickly to me before giving my over-excited nephew his full attention.

“Hey, buddy! Have you been looking after my girls?”

My heart skipped a beat. Stupid heart. Fooled by some sweet words and an ass that looked great in denim. Besides, he’d said ‘girls’ as in plural, as in including Jennifer.

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