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produce was available at the only market in town, which she hadn’t yet visited.
     
    The scenery, despite being a desert area, was beautiful. The sand and rock in the distance seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and cast rainbow colors in the air. And now, Maya could watch one of the most gorgeous dusks she’d ever witnessed.
     
    And all of that came on top of having met Vance.
     
    He was such a mystery. Maya could catch glimpses of who he was inside by some of the things he said, or the way he moved at times. But he put up a wall that kept her—and likely anyone else—from digging too deep. She wanted to know everything about his past. It had to be tragic, or he wouldn’t be so adamant about his loyalty to his tribe of biker brothers.
     
    Reluctantly, she’d called her mother before she’d showered. The conversation went much as expected, and Maya had done her best to field the twenty questions her mother threw at her. “I thought you were in Los Angeles.”
     
    “I’m on my way there,” Maya had told her. “I decided to drive, and I’m staying at a motel tonight.”
     
    “A motel ?” her mother replied with disgust. “Where exactly are you?”
     
    Maya didn’t want to tell her the sordid details. “It’s a small town, Mom. And besides, I don’t need five-star accommodations every night. I just need a bed and four walls with a ceiling.”
     
    “There’s no telling what sort of people stayed there before you, or how well it was cleaned,” her mother argued. Maya couldn’t remember when her mother had become more of a Prima Donna than she was.
     
    And Maya had a pretty good idea that the Mojave Boys wouldn’t tolerate laziness when it came to the businesses in Wheelie being clean and proper. “It’s not some seedy pay by the hour place, Mom. My standards are higher than that.”
     
    “Whatever.” Her mother sighed. “Are you eating well? Staying on your diet?”
     
    Maya had pursed her lips. “I’m eating the same way I always do. You act like I’m trying to lose weight or something. I eat to maintain my appearance and keep my metabolism in line.” Turning the tables, she’d asked, “What about you, Mom? Weren’t you on some cleansing diet?”
     
    There had been a distinct silence. “My doctor thinks taking those pills is counterproductive. But I did lose two pounds last week.” The way she said it, with a defiant but self-conscious tone, told Maya her mother had probably put on three pounds this week.
     
    It didn’t matter; her mother was in great shape for her age, and Maya would have loved her if she was as big around as she was tall. But she hated the hypocritical nature of her mother’s questioning. “Do you have a guard with you? Or a nice young man?”
     
    “No, Mom, I don’t need a guard when I’m driving, and I’m not reliant on some guy. I’m not dating anyone, and I’m not interested in getting married.” I did sleep with a gorgeous, dangerous man, though, with leather and a motorcycle and lots of tattoos. How’s that for realizing your dreams for me, Mom? She wanted to say it so badly but knew better. They were barely avoiding a fight as it was.
     
    Her mother said, “You only think you don’t want a husband because you haven’t met the right one yet. You’ll change your mind eventually. But you have to get out and date to find the man for you.”
     
    How could she make her mother understand she didn’t want to date or find a man? It wasn’t like the older woman had set such a good example for Maya. Sighing, she shook her head and told her mother, “I’m hungry and need to eat. I’m going over to the nice little diner down the street. I love you, Mom, and I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up, wondering if Christmas counted as soon enough.
     
    Her mother never ceased to raise her hackles, and taking a deep breath, Maya turned to her suitcase, deciding she needed to get ready or she would be unfashionably late. She chose a light pink babydoll