Page 45 of Iron Hearts

“How’d you get so smart, darlin’?” I asked her, and she smiled.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Guess I had good parents.”

I smiled and nodded. “Mine weren’t all bad,” I said. “My dad was a good man.”

She lit up.

“Mine, too.”

“My mom and I never did get along, though,” I said, grinning, and she laughed.

“My mom and I do alright,” she said. “I just wish she didn’t worry half so much.”

“I think every parent worries about their baby no matter how big or old they get,” I said. I felt a momentary flash of guilt, like I should maybecallmy parents or something, but then my mother’s nagging voice hit the back of my mind, and I decided,yeah, no. I’m good.

“So, what adventures are we off to do today?” she asked. I smiled and felt my head bob on my shoulders.

“First, we go for a ride,” I told her.

She tried to suppress her smile but gave up, laughed, and said, “Not great for my mother’s nervous system.”

“It’s cool. I think we can keep it between you and me,” I shot back, and she laughed.

“You’re a bad influence,” she accused.

“Guilty,” I told her.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Rarity…

We went back down the stairs and out through the garage, several of the men down there looking up and or stopping what they were doing to blatantly stare.

I was both excited and terrified to go for a ride. The only person I’d ever ridden with had been my dad. We’d sold his motorcycle after he’d died. Mom couldn’t bear to look at it, even though it hadn’t been involved in the accident in any way.

She used to go on long rides, just her and my dad, while I’d stayed at Grandma and Grandpa’s. I think it honestly broke her heart that she couldn’t anymore – not that I think she would if the opportunity came up. That had been her and my dad’s thing. Totally. Completely.

I had no idea what Striker had planned for the day, but just being out in the sunshine, sunglasses on, snugged up to his back as he carefully took us through traffic and over bridges… it was nice. We weren’t going terribly fast. Traffic wasn’t permitting it, butoh, the view from the bridge of all the sailboats out on the water was lovely.

It was nice to just relax and not have to be in charge for once and to just go with the flow. Did I think Striker was doing it just to get in my pants?

I didn’t know. I mean, it was likely, but my intuition was telling me that he was being cool. That he was attracted, sure, but he wasn’t being handsy or anything at all like that.

I was curious when we pulled into a little strip mall off one of the main streets heading toward the beaches.

When he parked and tapped my knee lightly twice, I hopped off. He heeled down the kickstand to lean the bike onto it. He shut off the beastly engine and got up himself, wincing at a little stiffness.

“You alright?” I asked.

He grinned at me and said, “I’m getting too old to be taking these ass whoopin’s.”

I laughed and looked up and down the row of businesses curiously.

“Why’re we here?” I asked.

“For your appointment,” he said, striding up to the door we’d parked in front of and holding it open, gesturing me through.

I furrowed my brow, went through and blinked, surprised at the strong smell of chemicals and acrylic.

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