Free Softail Curves III by D. H. Cameron Page A

liked riding on the back of Dutch’s bike holding his solid body, but riding my own bike was incredible. I felt like a serious badass on my big bike, a curvy, sexy, biker chick.
    Mount Rushmore came into view as we rounded the last curve. We were all taking a day to relax and rest up before the ride home. Sturgis was fun but it took a lot out of us. Lots of booze and little sleep wore on a girl after a few days. Nevertheless, the rally, my first, was wild. I’d shown my tits to about a thousand bikers, did more body shots than I could count and partied through the night a couple of times.
    We arrived at the parking area and shut down our bikes. We didn’t have to wear helmets in South Dakota and we didn’t. Yeah, it was dangerous but life was dangerous. I loved the wind in my hair. We went to the observation platform and looked at the monument. It was pretty cool, but I was ready to go home. Still, I knew I’d miss all this.
    We took pictures, even getting an old grizzled biker to take a shot of the four of us. I could hardly remember what life was like before I met Dutch and his friends. I know my previous life wasn’t as fun or as scary but I had come to enjoy scary. It made me feel alive. I still remember the first time I met Dutch. He seemed so cocky but I couldn’t help but like him. He told me he saw a light in me the other girls just didn’t have.
    I guess he was right. Only now, married to him, working in his shop and continually getting into trouble, did I realize how boring life was before I met Dutch. I had my fits and starts but once I got over the shock and my self-doubt, I just knew this was the life for me. We gazed at the monument for a while longer and then we headed back to the bikes.
    “Thanks,” I said as I walked ahead of the group , turned and walked backwards to face them.
    “For what?” Sheila asked.
    “For accepting me. For being my friends and loving me for who I am,” I said. Damn that sounded sappy.
    “Sheila, you been feeding my wife booze again?” Dutch asked. I rolled my eyes.
    “I mean it, you guys,” I replied. I wanted them to know what they meant to me.
    “We know,” Locke replied as Sheila grabbed my shoulders , turned me around and pushed me towards the bikes.
    “We’re bikers, Shauna. We have a reputation to uphold. Don’t go getting all emotional out in public,” Sheila joked. Dutch just laughed and put his arm around me.
    “You don’t have to say it. Besides, were all lucky to have you,” Dutch said. I smiled at that.
    “Besides, if you weren’t such a wimp we’d probably all be in jail right now,” Sheila said.
    “Shut up, red, before I kick your ass,” I shot back and she winked at me.
    “Promise?” Sheila replied. I reached over and spanked her. “There, that’s how bikers are supposed to act in public,” she proclaimed. We all laughed as we approached the bikes. We mounted up and headed back to town. That night was pretty tame, a few beers, Mexican food and then some more cocktails in the hot tub at the motel. The next day we began the ride home. A few days later, I lay next to Dutch in bed. I swear I could still feel the rumble of my bike even though we’d been home for hours.
    “That was fun, but I’m glad were back home,” I said.
    “Me too,” Dutch replied, not saying much as usual.
    “I love you, daddy,” I said as I rolled into his arms. Dutch squeezed me tight.
    “I love you too, was all he said. That’s all I need to hear, but Dutch had more. “Remember what you said up at Mount Rushmore?” he asked and I told him I did. “Well, you got it backwards. Thank you for accepting me. I never thought I’d find a girl like you. You love me for who I am and I really appreciate that. You’re everything to me, Shauna.”
    “We’ re both really lucky, then,” I replied. He’d never said that before. Not quite like that. Dutch was a man of few words, a biker through and through. I had learned to accept his quiet manner but every