Joci was a mother first, a biker second and was running her marketing and design business, third. She believed in a good cause while enjoying the open road with friends and family.
Dog owns a successful business building some of the greatest motorcycles around. Men and women alike respected and envied him. Being a veteran, he believed in helping other veterans in the only way he knew how, by riding motorcycles.
They meet, try to ignore the attraction and ultimately fall in love only to have their love tested by a jealous employee who wants Dog for herself. Can they survive?
There were times like this when Joci wanted to burst out laughing it felt so good. The wind in her face, running through her hair, the sun warming her skin, the roar all around her, seven hundred-plus pounds of pure unadulterated power between her legs, and she was controlling it all. Gliding through traffic with her son, Gunnar, just a few yards in front of her, feeling all the love and joy God made for her, just her. Yes, these were the times Joci enjoyed. She smiled as they came up behind a car and floated over to the left lane to pass. As she watched, Gunnar glided easily past the car, his dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, the two little kids in the back seat watching him and smiling at each other. You could tell they were thinking, Someday, I’m going to do that. Then as she pulled up alongside to pass them, they started smiling and pointing at her, one of them turning to the adult in the front seat and saying something causing the driver to look over at her as she passed him. He smiled at her, and Joci smiled back at the reaction; it happened often. She could almost hear the kids in the back: Look dad, a girl on a motorcycle.
She easily pulled in front of the car and continued on down the highway to their destination. She loved this life, this group of people that she had, at least, this in common with. A few minutes later, Gunnar and Joci put their turn signals on to turn off the highway, onto a frontage road, and into the parking lot of Rolling Thunder Motorcycles. They navigated the last few shoppers straggling out at the end of the day.
Gunnar worked at Rolling Thunder Motorcycles as a mechanic for the past year. He loved working here. He loved the people he worked with, he loved the customers and their bikes, he loved building bikes, and lately Dog had let him help in the design on some of the custom bikes they were known for. And well-known they were becoming. Dog built some of the hottest bikes around. He had recently been in Rider magazine, and showcased on several “biker” shows. His reputation for building beautiful, custom, mechanically sound bikes was becoming legend.
Gunnar said, “Conference room is this way mom.”
Joci nodded once and followed behind Gunnar as they made their way through the store and up the stairs. Joci noted the store was neat and tidy. There were racks of clothing on one side of the store and parts, accessories, and motorcycles on the other. The store was well-lit and colorful. The logo painted on the wall, though, was boring. Rolling Thunder Motorcycles, Inc. was painted in silver lettering on a white wall with nothing else. No real logo other than the name.
Entering a room off to the right at the top of the stairs, Joci stopped in her tracks as she crossed the threshold. Dog was sitting at the conference table, which was a large, well-worn oak table littered with beer cans, papers and miscellaneous food wrappers. About eight other people were either sitting at the table or standing around talking.
As she stood in the doorway he looked up from his reading and stared at her.
“Dog, this is my mom, Joci. Mom, this is Jeremiah Sheppard, but everyone calls him Dog.”
Joci watched as Dog stood to his full height, and rounded the table toward her. Well-built, broad shoulders supported the most beautiful head and face Joci had ever seen on a man. Long blonde hair and bright green eyes held her attention as he came to a stop in her space. He reached his hand out to shake hers, but Joci stood transfixed as she looked into his eyes.
“Nice to meet you Joci. Gunnar has told me a lot about you. I appreciate your time in helping us plan next year’s event.”
“Are you seeing someone?” He held his breath. It was probably none of his business, but in all the times Gunnar had spoke of his mother, he never mentioned a boyfriend and Jeremiah knew his dad was out of the picture.
Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips as she looked at him with the most beautiful gray eyes he had ever seen. Framed by thick lashes, he had noticed her eyes the second she stepped through the door. When he stood in her space to shake her hand, her perfume filled his senses and caused his brain to short circuit for a few beats, which also caused his cock to thicken.
“Ah, no. No boyfriend. I… just can’t.” Joci took a step back and started to turn to leave his office.
“Call me if you have any questions, Joci. I’m excited to get this logo implemented. It’s something that’s been missing for a long time now.”
As she turned to walk out the door, Jeremiah took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She was breath taking. Tiny little body, beautiful smile framed by dimples, and she was smart. She had pegged his business needs within minutes of walking in the door of his shop. He wanted to get to know her better. He had never dreamed of finding a woman like her.
ABOUT PJ FIALA
I was born in a suburb of St. Louis, Missouri named Bridgeton. During my time in Missouri, I explored the Ozarks, swam in the Mississippi River, played kickball and endless games of hide and seek with the neighborhood kids. Spending summers in Kentucky with my Grandmother, Ruth, are the fondest childhood memories for me.
At the age of thirteen, my family moved to Wisconsin to learn to farm. Yes, learn to farm! That was interesting. Taking city kids and throwing them on a farm with twenty-eight cows purchased from the Humane Society because they had been abused, was interesting. I learned to milk cows, the ins and outs of a breeding schedule, feeding schedule and the never ending haying in the summer and trying to stay warm in the winter. Our first winter in Wisconsin, we had thirty-six inches of snow in one storm and were snowed in our house for three days! Needless to say, I wasn't loving Wisconsin.
I am now married with four children and three grandchildren. I have learned to love Wisconsin, though I still hate snow. Wisconsin and the United States are beautiful and my husband and I travel around by motorcycle seeing new sites and meeting new people. It never ceases to amaze me how many people are interested in where we are going and what we have seen along the way. At every gas station, restaurant and hotel, we have people come up to us and ask us about what we are doing and offering advice on which roads in the area are better than others and great rides others have been on if we are interested.
WHERE TO FIND DOG DAYS OF SUMMER:
WHERE TO FIND PJ FIALA
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