Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(10)

Okay. Run first, then find that diner Mac Evans recommended—Marie’s, she remembered—for some breakfast. Then errands to stock the place up. She rummaged through one of her duffels and dug out a pair of spandex running shorts and a top. She combed her fingers through her hair and yanked it into a high ponytail. She found her trail running shoes in the other duffel. She intended to run through what served as residential areas, but there was a lot of gravel out here, and she didn’t want to roll an ankle.

She hid her keys behind the garage. Signal Bend was probably one of those towns where nobody ever locked anything, but Lilli protected her shit. She had shit to protect.

Running through Signal Bend and the surrounding countryside gave Lilli a different insight from what she’d seen from the Camaro. The homes were widely spaced, even in town. A lot of them were obviously empty. Even banks seemed to have abandoned them. All that remained were swing sets rusting in yards, sometimes a car on blocks, weeds growing up through the engine. She passed one car with a tree growing through the back seat and out the empty rear window.

The occupied houses she passed were often lovely and quaint in their simplicity. Lilli saw lots of washing hung on lines, sheets catching the breeze and early morning sun. Just after six in the morning, and women were deep into their chores. Country life. It wasn’t a world Lilli had grown up in.

She noticed that she was noticed as she ran. People—women and small children in their yards, men passing in trucks and tractors—gawked as she passed them. Isaac had told her that people don’t move to Signal Bend, so she was obviously a curiosity as a new person in their midst.

She ran for nearly an hour, judging by her pace that she’d gone about eight miles or so, when she was ready to head back. She wanted to loop rather than simply turn around, so that she could see more of the town, but she wasn’t sure she had her bearings well enough to accomplish it.

Oh, well, one way to find out. She had her father’s sense of direction. She’d figure it out.

It was coming up on 8am, and she’d run about sixteen miles, when she turned onto the gravel road that would become the driveway to her little rental. She saw the bike pulled up in front of the garage as she crested the last hill. She’d only seen it a couple of times, never clearly or up close, but she guessed this was Isaac’s Harley. He’d already gotten some intel on her, then.

And this was why she locked her shit.

She saw him sitting on the steps of the little wooden deck leading to the sliding glass back door. He was leaning back against the steps, his hands linked across his chest, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Damn, he was big. And not hard at all to look at. Well-worn black engineer boots. Dark straight-leg Levis. Black button-down shirt, folded back on his arms and open at the throat. Leather cuffs. Leather kutte. Black Ray-Bans. He looked like Mr. June in the Harley Biker Beefcake calendar.

She took all that in by the time she’d reached the garage. Without indicating that she’d also seen him, she paused at his bike, breathless from her run, and gave it a once-over. It was a nice bike, a huge black Dyna. Had some miles on it, but it was obviously well cared for.

“You like?” Isaac called over from the porch, where he was still sitting in the exact same position.

Lilli turned to him and shrugged. It pleased her to see him cock his head, as if he’d expected to startle her with his presence. “It’s nice. I prefer something with a bit more speed.”

She had to get her keys, which meant he was going to see that she’d hidden them. Letting him see where wasn’t a problem—she could hide them elsewhere—but seeing that she had gave up a lot. Another new plan she needed. This biker was getting in her way. She went behind the garage and dug them out.

He was still sitting in the same position when she walked up to the deck. Even behind his sunglasses, his eyes were devouring her, she could tell.

“That bike is plenty fast, Sport. You ride?”

“I do.”

“What d’you ride?”

“Last bike I had was a BMW—K 1300S.”

He looked impressed, his eyebrow cocking up above his Ray-Bans. “Not much for the crotch rockets, but that’s a lotta bike for a girl.”

“Same thing you said about my car. Like I said, I like speed.”

“Like I said, my bike’s plenty fast. But it’s about more than speed, Sport—or maybe you prefer Lillian.”

She didn’t miss a beat. As soon as she’d seen his bike in front of her garage, she’d known he had her name. “I don’t, actually. I prefer Lilli. Three Ls, two Is. Got an early start this morning, I see.”

He stood and took a long stride, so that he was standing right in front of her, looming over her. She was tall, but by her estimate, he had a good nine inches on her, at least. “Actually, haven’t been to bed yet. It’s still last night for me. My guy tells me you’re Lillian Carson, from Austin, Texas.” Brazenly, he slid his hand into the front of her running shorts, hooking his fingers over the waistband. He made a growling noise in the back of his throat. “Girl, these are the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. They distract a man from his work.”

She liked his hand where it was. Her attraction to this man didn’t surprise her; if she’d been asked to describe what she found sexiest, she’d pretty much describe him head to toe. And she was by no stretch of the imagination shy or prudish. Under normal circumstances, she’d have few qualms about putting him on the ground and mounting him right here. But he could be a danger to her. He had power—what she’d seen last night told her that he was the power in this scant little town and probably for some distance around it. It could be problematic if their needs crossed.