While Marcus stood gaping, Divine unstrapped the two-wheeled vehicle, unflipped a narrow ramp on the end, and muscled the vehicle onto the dirt. Setting its kickstand in place to keep it upright, she then turned, retrieved two helmets from the inset, and then pressed the button again, closing the panel.
Marcus took the helmet she handed him, and pulled it on as he watched her don her own. But his intention to do up the chinstrap died a quick death when she distracted him by bending forward. His eyes widened on her derriere as she caught the back of her skirt through her legs and drew the material tight as she pulled it forward. It wasn’t until she straightened with the cloth in hand and tucked it into the front waistband of her skirt that he understood what she was doing. She then swung a leg over the motorcycle, started the engine, revved it, and then turned to peer at him. “Well?”
“Right,” he muttered, quickly doing up the helmet she’d given him. It looked like she was driving. Hell. A motorcycle. He hoped she knew how to drive the damned thing.
Three
The moment Marco settled on the motorcycle behind her and slid his arms around her waist, Divine knew she’d made a mistake. She’d had the occasional passenger on her motorcycle before, both men and women, but this time it felt uncomfortably intimate. The man had plastered his chest to her back, and Divine was very aware of his hands resting just below her breasts. She felt enveloped in his embrace, and that was something she hadn’t experienced in quite a while, if ever. Short of elbowing him and perhaps catching him by surprise and sending him flying off the motorcycle, however, there was little she could do about it, so Divine did her best to ignore her own discomfort and concentrated on driving.
The Hoskins Carnival came to Bakersfield, California, every year. Divine had been in the town before, but not just with this carnival. She knew the place Hal had mentioned. McMurphy’s had been around a long time. Not that Divine had dined in the establishment, but she had driven past it and had a good memory. Years ago it had been McMurphy’s Tavern. It was now McMurphy’s Irish Pub and Sports Bar, though. Whether it had changed hands and been renovated, or the owners had just changed the name, she didn’t know. She did know where it was, though, and found it easily enough. Little more than ten minutes later she was relieved to be able to bring the motorcycle to a halt and wait a little impatiently for Marco to disembark before she set the kickstand in place and got off herself.
Divine avoided looking at Marco as she removed her helmet and quickly unhooked her skirt to let it fall around her legs again. She could still feel the warmth where his body had pressed against her back, and found herself annoyed by it. Sighing, she used the helmet lock to secure her helmet, then took the one Marco held out and secured it as well. Determinedly ignoring him then, Divine headed for the pub’s entrance, but could hear him following.
The day had cooled once the sun had set, but was still hot at around eighty-five degrees. The pub was air-conditioned though, and the wave of cold air that hit them as they entered was a relief. Divine paused inside the doors and simply enjoyed the rush of cool air for a moment before turning her attention to trying to find Hal and Carl.
“I don’t see them,” Marco commented behind her, bending to speak by her ear to be heard over the cacophony of voices in the room.
Divine stifled a shiver as his breath blew across her skin. Ignoring the sensation, she simply peered around and then frowned. She didn’t see them either. “Hal definitely said McMurphy’s. He said he had their ribs last year and wanted them again.”
“Hi. Can I help you? You look like you’re looking for someone.”
Divine glanced to the perky girl who had approached. She had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and carried an empty tray, pressed against her chest. Divine couldn’t help noticing she was also eyeing Marco appreciatively as she waited for an answer.
“We’re looking for some friends of ours,” Divine said, drawing the girl’s reluctant attention. “A couple of older gentlemen. Kind of rough-looking, sun-weathered, one with no teeth, the other with no hair.”
“Oh yeah.” Smiling, the girl nodded her head, her ponytail waving as she turned her gaze back to Marco. “They’re here. I sat them . . .” She had drawn her gaze from Marco to gesture to a table in the corner and frowned when she found it empty. “I sat them over there a couple minutes ago.” She glanced around briefly and then smiled and shrugged. “They probably stepped out on the patio for a smoke.”
“Probably,” Divine agreed, remembering that Hal and Carl both smoked. Quite a few of the carnies did.
“Well, you can look for them on the patio, or sit down and wait for them if you’re friends. They probably won’t be long. I saw their waitress talking to them just after I sat them. They’ve probably ordered drinks and asked for menus, but haven’t ordered their meals yet.”
“We’ll wait at the table,” Marco announced, taking Divine’s arm to lead her that way. She didn’t protest. Divine had no desire to go out on the smoking patio. She didn’t even really want to be here. She’d only come in an effort to avoid the man escorting her. Best-laid plans and all that. If not for this man, she could be sitting in Madge’s trailer right now, relaxing to the buzz of conversation. Damned man, she thought with irritation.
Settling in the chair he pulled out for her, Divine picked up the menu to avoid looking at him.
“Do you eat?”
Stiffening, she glanced over the top of her menu to Marco as he settled in the chair across from her. Rather than answer, she asked, “Do you?”
He hesitated briefly, and then said, “On occasion.”
Divine shrugged with disinterest and lowered her gaze to the menu again.
“So . . . you’re an immortal . . .”
That got her attention; Divine peered at him sharply, and then glanced around to be sure no one had heard the comment. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them, but—
“And I’m an immortal,” he continued.
“For heaven’s sake,” she snapped, glaring at him. “You know better than to talk about nonsense like that in public.”
“No one’s listening,” Marco said soothingly, and then tilted his head and asked, “What are you running from?”
Divine stiffened in her seat. “What makes you think I’m running from anything?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said with amusement, “Maybe the fact that you’re hiding out at the carnival?”
“If I were hiding out, I’d be working somewhere where hundreds of people didn’t see me every day,” she said dryly. “I work the carnival because I happen to make a very good living there.”
“By reading people’s futures?”
There was no judgment in his voice; still, Divine felt herself stiffening defensively. “I don’t read their futures and I don’t claim to.”
“Right. You define their future,” he said quietly.
Divine nodded. It was a fine distinction, but an important one to her. “I read their minds and define their futures. Or sometimes I read the minds of whoever accompanies them to my RV and use what I learn there to define the customer’s future.”
“Like the husband who planned to kill his wife for the insurance?” Marco asked. Expression becoming considering, he added, “The husband must have accompanied her to your stall when the carnival was in their town for you to know he planned to knock her off for the insurance.”