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I turn my head to look over my shoulder, not realizing it puts my mouth right in his kissing zone. “What kind of expressions of gratitude are you hoping for, Sabre?”
His eyes zero in on my mouth. “Is that lipstick berry-flavored?”
“Ah, you want more kisses, right?”
That’s the exact moment that we hear Noah’s curious voice ask, “Are the two of you going to kiss?”
Sabre whispers before pushing off the wall with one hand and backing away, “Maybe when there ain’t a clipboard carryin’ nine-year-old watchin’ our every move.”
He drops to one knee to gather up loose wire from the floor, leaving me to explain the ways of the world to my nine-year-old son.
After the others leave, Sabre comes to me in the kitchen. “About this school thing. I talked to Tex today. We moved my Legion shifts to middays and weekends, effective immediately. I’ll take drop-off at seven forty-five and pickup at three, starting tomorrow.”
I frown at him. “You were able to rearrange your work schedule on the spur of the moment that way?”
“Of course. That’s why my club owns businesses, so we can work jobs that pay us what we’re worth and accommodate our personal needs. Besides, I’m not about to make promises to you or Noah that I can’t keep.”
“So, what are you saying? I’ll get to ride on your motorcycle to school and back every day?” Noah asks from the doorway, vibrating with excitement.
I give Sabre a tiny nod. “Go ahead and tell him.”
Sabre turns to look at him. “Yeah, your mom gave her approval. We’ll take my bike unless it’s raining or we need to carry something we can’t fit into the back storage compartment. When that happens, we’ll take my truck.”
“That sounds awesome,” Noah says enthusiastically.
I’m less than enthusiastic, but Las Salinas is a small town and the roads aren’t busy. I’ve also got to know Sabre well enough to know that he’s not the sort of man who would take risks, especially with a child on the back of his bike.
“I actually have something for you, buddy. A gift to mark the occasion.”
A wash of happiness floods Noah’s face. “Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back, buddy.”
Sabre jogs out to his bike, opens the back compartment, and pulls out a kid-sized black helmet as we watch from the doorway. He comes back and hands it over, likely not realizing this is one of the greatest moments of my son’s life.
“I picked it up on the way home yesterday. It’s just your size.”
Noah reaches out for the shiny black helmet with a look of awe on his face. “Is that why you measured my head the other day, Mom?”
I nod.
Turning it over in his hands, he gasps. “It has my name on the back.”
Sabre nods solemnly. “I painted it myself. Now, your helmet is just like mine. Most of my club brothers have their names on the side or back of their helmets. It’s a tradition with a lot of clubs, but I thought it would be good for you, so if it gets lost or stolen, everyone will know it’s yours.”
At this point, my son is practically vibrating with excitement. “Thank you, Sabre. I’ll take good care of it and make sure it doesn’t get a single scratch on it.”
Sabre chuckles. The sound is deep and warm. It makes me want things I shouldn’t want with this big biker.
He gives Noah’s shoulder a quick squeeze, saying, “The helmet is supposed to keep you from getting damaged, not the other way around.”
Noah gets the joke and laughs along with Sabre, hugging the helmet to his chest.
Seeing them interact so easily churns up emotions. I’m terrified that Noah might get too attached to Sabre and suffer rejection if and when his hero moves on. But some small part of my heart can envision a future where we enjoy Sabre’s company for months or years. Somewhere between worry and hope is where we might find something special.
***
The school office closes at four, so Sabre and I take the forms over right before they close. We need to put Sabre on the pickup list for Noah and make it clear that Dylan is not allowed visitation or permission to pick him up.
