Page 42 of Bedding the Biker Next Door

Hours later, the movie about an alien spaceship found in a Florida suburb worked to take her mind off her troubles, and Jill and Liz ended the night with a drink at a different bar from where her troubles began in the first place. Still, just the atmosphere was enough to dredge the memories back up again.

Since she was obviously poor company, she ended the night early and let Liz go home. But Jill wasn’t ready to do the same, and she needed a few things from the store anyway. An hour later, mission almost accomplished, Jill headed home. After leaving her groceries in the kitchen, she headed straight to her bedroom then her bathroom, flicked the light on, and…

Someone shoved her hard. Crying out, she flew sideways, slamming into the bathroom counter, bouncing off, and hitting the floor sideways. Piercing pain shot through her face and arm.

The room spun. She tried to get her bearings. Tried to defend herself and scoot away from the door. But her body froze. Something crashed off a shelf, and a door slammed. She held her breath and listened for what seemed like years. When it was obvious her intruder was gone, she managed to pull her cell phone out and dial 911 with shaky fingers.

Even now, he was all she could think about. More than the police, more than anything, she wanted one person at her side—Cole.

Chapter Fifteen

After leaving his mom’s house and Jill behind, Cole spent the day at home researching Senator Taylor and the Staples Center layout. He could have gone into the office, but he knew the memories of Jill spread out on his desk would haunt him, and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Didn’t matter. Even in his own apartment, where Jill had never been, thoughts of her plagued him. He’d even started to see her figure and face in his favorite painting, and would stare at it for minutes on end like some lovesick fool.

When he left for his eight a.m. meeting with the senator the next morning, Cole was thinking of Jill yet again. Riding his bike through the city, he pictured having Jill with him, perched on the back. She’d loved riding the Hog. He could still hear her happy squeals when he took the corners hard and sharp. But he needed to stop thinking about her, get his head in the game again, score this job, and move forward with starting up the business in San Francisco. During the process, he’d arrange to take time off for the Ride Home.

For the first time since leaving Jill, he felt a tinge of interest in something outside of her. Riding the blacktop for weeks with his friends, with no responsibilities or difficult decisions to make, would be incredible. He needed something to look forward to.

He parked his bike in a garage and walked two blocks to the Hilton on Grand Avenue. When he entered the lobby, a woman in a black dress and heels paused on her way toward the bar and gave him an up-and-down look that took in his business suit clad body. She raised an appreciative eyebrow and stopped, standing straight in his path. She was slender with wavy, long dark hair that reminded him of Jill’s. A businesswoman, and a successful one, if he were to guess by the designer dress and shoes.

Cole slowed his pace. She was waiting for a sign—a subtle smile or nod. But he continued walking past her. Another woman didn’t interest him. All he’d do was compare her to Jill anyway, and that knowledge made him come to an abrupt halt. He found himself rethinking his stance about not seeing Jill. Again. Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe—

He shook his head. Cut it out, Cole. Business. Keep your mind on business. A simple life, attachment free. Who knew what kind of adventures awaited him in San Francisco and beyond? He wanted to explore the world, feel the rush of the wind against his face as he rode his bike on the open road. That was what he’d wanted his whole life and he finally had the opportunity to do it. If he tried to compromise for Jill, he’d only end up disappointing her.

Firming his jaw along with his resolve, he found the elevator and took it up to the top floor. He located the penthouse, tapping on the door. A few seconds later, Cole was escorted inside to wait in the living area, where he remained standing.

“Well, good morning.”

Cole looked up to see a sharply-dressed, very fit, middle-aged man with perfectly coiffed silver hair standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Good morning. I’m Cole Novak.” He extended his hand.

The man strolled forward and shook hands with him. “Leonard Taylor. I’m pleased to meet you, Cole. I’ve heard great things about you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m pleased to meet you, too.”

“Leonard is fine while it’s just the two of us.”

“Yes, sir,” Cole said.

Senator Taylor grinned. At least the guy had a sense of humor. Cole liked him, and for the next half hour, they discussed the job. At one point, Taylor offered to order up breakfast, and Cole politely declined.

“You sure? A man needs his protein. From the looks of you, you’ll work it off before the week is over.”

Cole grinned. “Yes, sir. You look like you’re no stranger to the gym yourself.”

“I was a bit of a gym rat as a young man. Now I prefer my morning runs when I’m at home.”

“Is your home in Sacramento?” Cole asked.

“My primary home is there. I have one in Orange County as well. I normally stay there when I’m in town, but it’s going through some renovations at the moment, so it wasn’t ready for me. I grew up in OC. I’m a SoCal boy at heart. Dodger’s fan, USC alumnus, Laker’s fan, the whole nine yards.”

“I’m right there with you,” Cole said, nodding.

“You grew up here too?” the senator asked him.

“Yes, sir,” Cole said. “In Glendale, not Orange,” he clarified.

“Do you still have family in LA?”

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