Harley and the Mystery Man
John Biebe and JJ
(His future significant other ????)
by Beej and B
John knew there had to be some changes in his life. He knew that moping around over what happened back in the States had to end. What better way then to find some excitement? Not the kind he'd get on the job, there was plenty of it there, but the kind he could savor in his own time.
He'd passed by the motorcycle shop in Coffs several times but today was going to be different. A vintage Harley knucklehead in the showroom caught his eye from the street and since he had a pocket full of cash from the sale of his house in Alaska, he figured he was entitled to enjoy some of it.
He went through the door and immediately the scent of oil and leather caught him. At first it reminded him of the punks he'd pulled over in many a traffic stop but then he drifted to the locker room just off the motor pool at the police department in Seattle. He'd done some training there and there was always a niggle about how it would be to ride his beat on one of those big Harley Electra Glides. Leather jackets, boots and a badge all in one package sounded kind of interesting to him these days but he'd never pursued this in the past. Today he'd look for something for his own recreation. Patrolling the Glen on such a piece of machinery may come later but today was personal.
He waved off the salesman for the time being, just wanting to graze a bit. The first stop was to check out that knucklehead. It was magnificent with tons of Ness chrome and a paint job that was highlighted by a soaring eagle on a cobalt blue background. It reminded him of some native art he'd seen in Alaska.
As he stood, his eyes were still on the bike and his right hand was savoring the soft leather of the wide custom seat. Even at his height he'd be fully stretched out to keep his feet on those highway pegs and he imagined himself cruising. Closing his eyes again he could feel how the wind blew his hair back and the temperature changed as he passed a stream. Warm then cool then warm again, he smiled slightly.
When he opened his eyes he was still smiling, right at her. Shit, no don't smile at any women. There was no room in his life for them right now and probably never would be. His brow knitted and he quickly turned around to avoid her gaze. Damn if he didn't knock over a half dozen plastic bottles of something or other.
JJ couldn't help but grin as the good looking man smiled. It only took a second for her to realize that the smile was for a memory and not for her. She tried to stifle a giggle as he crashed into a display when he turned from her. She'd spotted him from the moment he walked through the door. He didn't look like the kind of man who would ride a Hog...but then, out of her leathers, she didn't look the kind of girl who would, but the gleaming 2010 Softail Convertible in scarlet red pearl and dark slate pearl with metal grind graphics parked at the front of the shop was her pride and joy, and when she wasn't working, she could be found roaring along the black top in the countryside west of Sydney...until she headed up north that is.
Her laugh, that little giggle tickled his spine and he had to fight to avoid turning to look at her again. She was not even his type if he had a type anymore. His heart was in so many pieces that he couldn't afford to give it away again. John turned the joy of her voice into something like nails on a chalkboard, or at least he tried without success. There was something magical about this one.
His head dipped to the right though he didn't make it happen. Through the corner of his eye he saw her again and this time he caught her scent. Flowers and leather he thought, how odd. His mouth moved to speak to her but no sound came out as a battle raged inside of him. If she were some old granny or the likes he'd find it easy, but she was beautiful.
he barked as he placed the last of the display together. He turned and said "I
hope you're not from around here."
"Bit clumsy there, sport; kinda like a giant koala in a china shop." JJ grinned. "Judging from your accent, I'm more from around here than you are, but I'm from down the coast a bit. So, are they importing lumberjacks up here, or are you a wannabe Python?" She grinned once again looking at John's checked flannel shirt, and wanting to get a rise from him for some reason...maybe just to hear that voice again.
"Wannabe Python?" he queried. "Lumberjack?" he said with a cock of his brow. "They're importing sheriffs in a town called the Glen and I'm the result of that. I just stopped by here to..." he shrugged, then combed his hair back "...look around is all. Is there something wrong with the way I'm dressed?"
down at his flannel shirt he did feel a bit warm but his sleeves were rolled up.
"No, mate. It sort of suits you, and that colour brings out the blue in your eyes," she winked as she headed off to the counter.
'Let her go' he thought to himself as he gazed down at that fine round ass of hers. The subtle sway was completely natural and hypnotic. She certainly seemed fit.
"What the hell!" he rolled his eyes and walked out of the shop. He figured their paths wouldn't cross again. Thank God for that.