Chapter Seventeen. Thanks to the Root of Passion, Grace had no problem straddling the motorcycle and wrapping her arms around Penny’s waist

Thanks to the Root of Passion, Grace had no problem straddling the motorcycle and wrapping her arms around Penny’s waist. Within thirty minutes they’d roared into the Spring Mountain Range, heading up Mt. Charleston’s summit road. As they ascended, the line of Joshua trees gave way to clusters of cedars. Penny had mentioned that at the top of the mountain was an Alpine forest. The wind whipped past Grace’s face and she was grateful for the soft leather jacket Penny had found before they left the garage. Her hands remained glued to Penny’s side, but gone were the visions of the bike skittering into a ditch or the image of her crushed skull after they kissed the side of a mountain. This is what it’s like to be free.

They stopped twice, once to look at a wild burro and once to admire the view below them before they started back down. She gazed out at the valley, locating the road they’d just traveled, a tiny artery that cut through the mountain. She breathed deeply, the clean air filling her lungs. She pictured the dirty air she sucked in each morning during her run. She’d rarely ventured into nature and she suddenly felt deprived.

“You look mesmerized, ” Logan said.

“I don’t get out much, ” she replied. “Maybe I should.”

“There’s nothing like camping, ” Penny added, returning her water bottle to the saddlebag. “My ex and I used to come up here two or three times a year. There are some great spots.”

“I’ve never camped, ” she said.

Logan threw her leg over the bike and prepared to ride. “You’re right, Grace. You need to get out more.”

Penny arched her eyebrows and revved the engine. “Let’s go, Grace. We’ll zip back down and have some real fun.”

She wondered what else could be in store for her. She was at Penny’s mercy and didn’t care. She rested her chin on Penny’s shoulder, staring at the white lines that zipped past them at lightning speed. The bike twisted right and left, the surrounding mountain wall just a few feet away. She could almost reach over and touch the granite surface. It seemed much more real than when she traveled in an enclosed car. She thought of the trip she made each fall, traveling on Highway 89A between Prescott and Jerome in Arizona, marveling at the changing leaves. Now she realized how much more enjoyable the ride would be free of the metal and glass separating her from nature. There could be no comparison.

The rumble of the motor vibrated between her legs and her thoughts immediately turned sexual. She glanced over at Logan, who was alternating her gaze between the road and Grace. She grinned, and Grace realized how sexy she looked on the Harley. What would it be like to make love on a motorcycle? Was that possible?

She laughed, knowing that a few days before she never would have had such thoughts. When she read her lesbian romances she blushed at the sex parts. How could those writers think of such things? And now she was having fantasies worthy of Karin

Kallmaker and Radclyffe. Think about it, Grace. In the last two days, you’ve made love to two different women—a famous photographer and a famous model—you’ve attended the wedding of the year and you’ve ridden a motorcycle. She realized she was either going insane or waking up from a lifetime of deadness.

She was sorry to see the sign announcing their exit from the mountain range. Penny sailed down the highway for several miles before motioning at Logan to turn right. Grace saw a road ahead, one she hadn’t noticed during their ride to the mountain. They made the turn and rode down a long straightaway, the rich, lush landscape quickly fizzling into desert brush. Traveling amid the tans and browns wasn’t as appealing as the mountain roads and she found herself longing to reach the destination. Her ass was killing her.

The scenery seemed to repeat—tumbleweeds and dust endlessly appearing in front of them. It was hypnotic and her eyelids slowly closed. She blinked awake as they were approaching a large green sign. She read the scripted letters: Serendipity. Penny slowed the bike as the speed limit commanded her to do, and they chugged into the outskirts of the tiny town. They passed a series of closed businesses—gas station, Laundromat and minimart. The scene reminded her of every poor small town she’d ever driven through—a dot on the map, gasping to stay alive. This doesn’t seem serendipitous to me.

She wondered why Penny would want them to come this way—until she saw the glint of chrome in the distance.

Through the swirling dust she recognized rows of motorcycles lined up in front of a building that looked like a huge metal shed. The word Hardbelly’s flashed in neon lights above the door and rock music filled the parking lot.

Penny parked next to a monstrous cycle twice the size of the Softail. A rugged middle-aged biker and his motorcycle mama were checking their storage compartments, and they both took a long look at Grace when Penny pulled up. Logan roared up beside them and parked her bike.

“Give me the jacket, ” Penny said. “You won’t need it inside.”

Grace obliged, feeling incredibly exposed in front of the man and woman who made no effort to avert their gaze. She could only imagine how she looked as she removed her helmet and handed it to Penny. Her hair was a mess and she shook it out, drawing a smile from her audience.

“Hey, quit staring, ” Penny said to the couple. “Haven’t you ever seen a totally hot biker chick? ”

Grinning, the bikers turned away obediently, and Penny wrapped an arm around her bare midriff. I’m almost topless, she thought.

“What is this place? ” Logan asked.

“This is the best biker bar within a hundred miles.” Penny pulled Grace against her and kissed her neck. “It’s my turn to have you.”

She automatically glanced at Logan, who seemed not to notice. Her gaze was focused on the bar. “Are you sure this kind of place appreciates diversity? ”

Penny laughed and led them inside. A long bar lined the back and cocktail tables dotted most of the space. Harley-Davidson paraphernalia covered the walls and an antique motorcycle hung in the far corner, suspended by several chains. Shouts erupted from the bar and she saw the plasma TV televising a football game. Across from the bar was a small stage, a microphone stand in the center.

The place was packed. She was rather certain the PETA people would be quite displeased with the vast amount of leather that covered every biker’s body. Depending on where she turned her gaze, her every biker stereotype was confirmed or denied. Long-haired, mutton-chopped bikers wearing faded and tattered denim jackets and Levi’s shared space with clean-cut, fashionable, respectable types who she guessed only rode on the weekends. She’d read about the weekend bikers—accountants, lawyers and CEOs whose secret passion was riding. As her gaze flitted around the bar she found the idea surprisingly appealing, particularly when she saw two different lesbian couples openly making out. Your mother would have heart failure, Gracie.

Logan tried to say something to her but gave up, unable to compete with Bruce Springsteen’s bellowing and the noise of the boisterous patrons talking over the music. It was the loudest bar she’d ever entered, and no one seemed to realize or care that they were shouting to their neighbor.

Penny pulled her close and said in her ear, “You guys go find a table and I’ll get us some drinks.”

She nodded and took Logan’s hand. As they wormed their way through the tables, she tried not to stare at the variety of characters that huddled together. Her gaze wandered to a giant man, his forearms covered in skull tattoos and an enormous gauge in each ear. She saw the stage through the hole in his lobe and she couldn’t imagine how painful that procedure must be. When he stared back, her cheeks reddened. Logan caught her arm and propelled her in another direction, toward a table where a group of bikers was preparing to leave.

When they’d settled on the stools, Logan shouted, “So what do you think of this place? ”

“This is definitely a new experience for me. Don’t you dare disappear, ” she added.

Logan leaned over for a quick kiss. “I won’t. I’ll be right here. And there’s something else I want to say.”

“What? ”

“I don’t want you to be with Penny. I know she’s planning to make a move on you.”

She smiled, extremely pleased. Is Logan falling for me? “I don’t want to be with Penny. I only want you.”

She touched Logan’s cheek and soon they were kissing passionately. The sound of clinking glass pulled them apart. Penny stood there, holding a tray of tequila shooters.

“Am I interrupting something? ”

There was no mistaking her acid tone and she felt obliged to explain, but Logan said, “C’mon, Penny. Don’t be mad. We’re here to have fun, right? I can’t help that Grace is mesmerized by my overwhelming charms.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. They both looked at Penny, whose expression showed resignation to the situation.

“Okay, I’ll accept that I’m the third wheel, but if we’re gonna have fun then let’s play a game.”

It was nearly six. “How long will it take to get back to the hotel? ” she asked Logan.

Logan and Penny exchanged knowing glances. Penny leaned over and said into her ear, “You’re not going back to the hotel tonight. By the time we get back to my house it’ll be really late. I thought we could have a slumber party.”

She sat up straight and shook her head. “No, I need to check on my patients.”

“Grace, they’re fine, at least my dad is. When we stopped earlier I called my sister. He’s had a good weekend and Dr. Van Buren saw him twice. You don’t need to worry. You’re on vacation. One more night isn’t going to make a difference.”

“I don’t believe this. You’re kidnapping me.”

Logan’s hand, which had rested on her back, slid downward and Grace jumped slightly. “Don’t you want another night of hot sex? ” she cooed into her ear.

She laughed and kissed her. “Okay, what game are we playing? ” she asked Penny. “Penny? ”

Hearing her name, Penny turned back to the table. She’d been eyeing the bar, and when Grace looked in the same direction, she noticed a statuesque brunette in a tight jumpsuit.

Definitely hotter than me.

Penny thought for a moment. “Let’s play, I Never.”

“How do you play? ” she asked, feeling incredibly sheltered. “I’m not up on many drinking games.”

“It’s really easy, ” Logan explained. “Somebody makes a true statement that starts with the words, I never. Then, if anyone else has done what the statement says, you have to drink.”

“I’ll go first, ” Penny said. “I’ve never been to jail.”

Having never been arrested, Grace just smiled, but she was rather surprised when Logan said, “Shit, ” and hoisted one of the shooters to her lips.

After Logan smacked the shot glass on the table, she asked her, “You went to jail? For what? ”

“No, no, ” Penny said. “That’s also one of the rules. The drinker doesn’t have to explain herself.”

“My turn, ” Logan said. “I never…” Her voice faded away and she shook her head. “There’s not a lot to choose from.” She drummed her fingers on the table for a moment and looked up grinning. “I never kept a girlfriend for longer than six months.”

Grace and Penny glanced at each other and reached for a shooter. The tequila burned going down, and she gasped for breath.

“A little strong, huh? ” Penny joked. “Your turn, Grace.”

“Um, I’ve never been to Australia.”

Both Penny and Logan groaned as they reached for a drink. She had deduced that the point was to get the other participants drunk while maintaining her own sobriety. Considering how boring her life was, she was rather certain she could win.

Penny eyed her shrewdly. “I’ve never worn a skirt to work.”

She reached for another shooter but noticed Logan shaking her head. Of course she wouldn’t wear a skirt. The second shooter went down smoothly, and she felt slightly lightheaded.

“Okay, ” Logan said, “I’ve never been to an NFL football game.”

“You haven’t? ” Penny asked incredulously. “How can that be? ”

Logan shrugged while Penny and Grace picked their shooters. “I grew up in Phoenix and we didn’t have a team for a long time. And I’ve just never had an interest in watching sweaty men jump all over each other.”

“My turn, ” Grace said in a loud voice. “I’ve never used cocaine.”

“Christ, Grace, you’re killing me, ” Penny growled. She and Logan downed a shot.

There were still six glasses left on the tray. She wondered how many more she could handle before she fell off the stool.

“I’ve never kept a journal, ” Penny said.

She thought of the leopard-spotted book she hid under her bed all through junior high. She’d written all about her girlhood crushes as she came to terms with her lesbianism.

“Grace, are you telling me you never kept a journal? You? ” Penny asked.

“Oh, sorry.” She threw her head back and the tequila coated her throat nicely.

Logan folded her hands on the table. “I’ve never karaoked.”

Penny reached for a glass and glanced at her. “You haven’t karaoked? ”

She shook her head. “Me? Are you crazy? I can’t sing very well to begin with. I’m certainly not going to sing in public.”

Logan laughed. “Oh, yes, you are.”

“What? ”

Logan pointed to a spot over her shoulder. When she turned, she saw the enormous sign next to the stage announcing that Sunday was karaoke night, starting at seven thirty.

“No way, ” she said. “I’m not doing that.”

“You’ll finish the list—well, almost.”

She suddenly remembered. Make a public spectacle of yourself. That would certainly qualify, but she’d sooner be bitten by a tarantula than sing in public.

“No.”

“What list? ” Penny asked.

“Grace’s friends made this list of things for her to do, and she’s crossed everything off, except making a public spectacle of herself and having a relationship.”

Penny’s arms encircled her bare waist and she stroked her belly. “You should do it.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying Penny’s touch. Eva used to love kissing her belly on her way down to the sweet spot between her legs. Lost in her thoughts, she hardly noticed Penny’s hand groping her breast.

Her eyes shot open and she stared at Logan, who was watching the entire scene, an empty shot glass in her hand. Apparently the game was over.

“Somebody’s a little drunk, ” Logan said, frowning.

She pushed Penny’s hand away. “I need to hit the bathroom.”

She hopped off the stool and headed toward the bar, unsure of where to go but wanting to be away from both of the women. Penny’s touch was too tempting and Logan’s stare chilled her instantly.

Once she’d found the bathroom she went to the sink and pulled the list from her purse. She glanced at the tiny top and low-cut jeans, realizing that she’d never dressed so sexually. She reapplied her lipstick and stared critically at the woman who stared back. Her deep red lips added to the effect, but it wasn’t enough. You look like you’re trying and failing. She dug through her purse and found the makeup pouch she’d added to her purchases at the Paris shop. The eyeliner was a rich black, and she liberally applied it to her eyes. Now it all matches. She brushed her hair quickly and washed her hands. She put everything away and held the list. Yes, Logan was correct and only one item remained that she could accomplish this weekend. But maybe not! Maybe Logan will want a relationship. She pulled the vial from her purse and drank. Only a few drops remained.

She carefully put the box back in her bag and returned to the table, stumbling slightly as she walked. She was definitely buzzed and only a step away from drunk. Who cares? You’re not driving. The shots were gone, except for one that sat in front of her stool. Penny was also missing.

“This one’s for you, ” Logan said.

She hesitated only for a second, already thinking of the Root of Passion coursing through her system. She downed the shot, and the room spun. She planted her hands on the table for support. Penny appeared, carrying a tray of beers. Following close behind her was the brunette in the jumpsuit. Grace’s eyes probed the woman’s body and it was impossible to miss her strategic cleavage, since she’d zipped the jumpsuit just high enough to meet public decency laws. She realized that the zipper disappeared between her legs. Talk about easy access.

“Time for a new game, ” Penny said, setting the beers in the middle of the table. “Oh, and this is Cady. We met at the bar.”

“Hey, ” Cady offered, flashing the whitest teeth she’d ever seen. Definitely bleached.

“So what’s the game? ” Logan asked, resting her hand on Grace’s leg.

Now that Penny had found a new playmate, Logan had no problem reminding her of their incredible chemistry. The Root of Passion had to be working, counteracting the effects of the alcohol. She felt clear and free, just as she had the night in the restaurant with Michelle.

“Let’s play Beer Race.” Penny looked at her to explain. “This one’s simple. We each take a beer and when I say go, we chug the beer. The first person who finishes holds her empty mug upside down over her head.”

Cady laughed and added, “Then everybody else has to do the same, no matter how much beer is left in your mug.”

“This could get really messy, ” Grace said.

“Have you seen the floor of this place? ” Penny asked.

She glanced down at the concrete. She hadn’t noticed that spilled drinks were everywhere. The management obviously didn’t care and saw it as a moneymaker.

Penny set a beer in front of each of them. “Go! ”

She drank as fast as she could, but it was apparent everyone else was highly experienced at beer chugging. Cady finished first and held the mug over her head.

“I win! ”

Both Penny and Logan were nearly finished, so when they poured the beer over their heads, very little dribbled down their faces. They all laughed and everyone stared at Grace, whose beer mug was still half full. She giggled and turned it over her head, closing her eyes and jumping slightly when the cold liquid dripped between her breasts. It felt wonderful.

“Again! ” Penny commanded. “Go! ”

This time Penny drained her mug first, but Logan and Cady were close behind. Only Grace found herself again drenched in beer.

Logan whispered, “This is starting to turn into a wet T-shirt contest, and I am so enjoying it.”

She glanced down at her top. It was covered in beer and her nipples stood erect. She saw the lust in Logan’s eyes and without thinking another thought, she reached for her last beer and poured it over her head. The other three women applauded, and she laughed until she cried.

At some point Logan started kissing her, and Penny and Cady were forgotten. The Root of Passion held her, and her whole body responded.

“How long will it take us to get back to the hotel? ” she groaned.

Logan laughed and cradled her chin. “Oh, no. You’re not leaving until you karaoke. You want to make love? Then you’ll sing for your sex, lady.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m in no shape to stand on a stage in front of a crowd. Look at me.” They both glanced down at her tank top, plastered to her skin.

“You look hot, ” Logan said.

Suddenly the bar went dark and a spotlight appeared on the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s karaoke night at Hardbelly’s! ”

The crowd roared its approval, and a cute redhead wearing jeans and a cowboy shirt jumped on the stage. The crowd screamed as she grabbed the microphone. “Hey ya’ll. How’s everyone doin’ tonight? ” The crowd responded with cheers and she waited patiently. “Well, tonight’s our weekly karaoke and I’ve been told that we have a special performance in store for us from a woman who’s probably the most educated person ever to set foot on the Hardbelly’s stage.”

She turned to Logan. “No.”

Logan only grinned as the woman shouted into the microphone, “Please give a great Hardbelly’s welcome to Dr. Grace Owens! ”

All she heard were the cheers, but she remained planted on her chair until Logan, Penny and Cady literally carried her to the stage. They stepped away and the cute redhead took her arm.

She noted that the woman’s grip was like a vise as she planted her center stage.

When the crowd quieted, the redhead asked, “Now, what are you going to sing for us, Grace? ”

“I don’t sing, ” she said weakly, and the crowd laughed hysterically.

She wanted to disappear, but the redhead’s fingers were firmly clamped around her upper arm. She wasn’t going anywhere. This woman was tough. She probably rides bulls or brands cattle for a living.

“Now, Grace, everybody karaokes. You really don’t have to sing.” When she remained mute, the woman added, “Your friends told me this might happen, so they picked a song for you.”

“I really can’t do this, ” she pleaded.

“Of course you can.” The woman turned to the audience. “Let’s give Grace our full support. C’mon, ya’ll! ”

The crowd chanted, “Grace! Grace! Grace! ” and Grace, through the blinding spotlight, managed to see a few of the excited faces.

Suddenly the music started and the redhead pointed to a nearby screen. She saw the words for Willie Nelson’s On the Road Again appear, and the redhead dragged her through the first verse. Her eyes remained glued to the monitor, watching the words appear and erase.

By the second verse, her confidence soared, and she realized that the redhead had released her death grip and in fact was standing in a corner, clapping along with the crowd. She was on her own. Elated, she glanced at the monitor, but she knew the song. It was one of her mother’s favorites and she’d heard it a million times. She took a few steps toward the crowd, belting the lyrics, and a huge flash erupted which she imagined was Logan’s camera. The whoops and hoots grew, drowning out her horrible singing. She returned to the chorus and pranced across the stage, shaking her breasts at the drunken patrons. The response was deafening and gave her the courage to perform the final verse. She swayed back and forth, grinding her hips to the music, until the song ended.

The redhead rushed to her side and presented her to the crowd: “Grace Owens! ”

She took a bow and waved at the cheering crowd. I feel like a rock star. The grin across her face matched the exhilaration in her heart. As she returned to her seat people clapped, shouted her name and patted her on the back. She was one of them. She’d never felt so comfortable around complete strangers. You hate crowds, remember?

Logan threw her arms around her. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve almost finished the list.” She stepped back and held her shoulders. “I guess my work here is done. We can go home.”

She swallowed hard. She suddenly wished they weren’t going home. I want to feel this way forever.

“Are you okay, Grace? ” Logan asked, touching her cheek.

She glanced back toward the stage, avoiding her concerned stare. The patrons were focused on the next singer who belted out Crazy.

Now she’s really good. Logan’s arms enveloped her, and they got up and swayed to the slow song. I am crazy for Logan, but it could never work. She said so.

The next performer was worse than Grace, but the drunk crowd cheered, although less enthusiastically than they did for her. But she isn’t wearing a tank top covered in beer. They stayed for another hour, until Penny and Logan felt sober enough to drive.

Cady claimed Penny’s second seat which pleased Grace immensely. She snuggled against Logan without feeling guilty about Penny’s affections. Penny won’t have any trouble unzipping that jumpsuit.

They returned to the main road and headed back toward the lights of Las Vegas. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever thought it was a terrible place. She realized she’d made the same assumptions about many places—and many people. Eva had tried to introduce her to new things, new friends and new experiences. She’d always balked, using work as an excuse.

Before she could control herself, her cheeks were wet. She didn’t dare move her hands away from Logan’s waist, so the tears dried on her face, a reminder of her pain. She vowed to call Eva and apologize when she got home. She owed her that much. She couldn’t have been much of a girlfriend. I’ll be different next time. Maybe there’ll be something between me and Logan.