Page 44 of Ridin' Free
Not only did his grip not loosen, but he leaned in closer, until his lips were grazing mine as he muttered, “Sparky, I know you’re wild as you are brave and pretty as you are stubborn, which is to say a whole hell of a lot. Now, you gonna climb on the back of this hog, or what?”
The heavy in my belly didn’t go away at his words—but it did begin to burn with a warmth that beckoned me to relax. I took a breath and peered at him through my dark glasses, all the while wishing I could see into those bourbon-brown eyes unobscured.
“Can’t go anywhere until you let me go,” I replied.
I felt his arrogant smile before he smacked a kiss against my mouth and freed my neck.
I took a step back, raked my fingers through my hair, then tried to gather myself enough to climb onto the back of his Hydra-Glide without looking like the novice I was.
I’d been serving bikers at a bar for most of my adult life, but I’d never been on the back of anyone’s Harley.
Spotting the foot peg, I planted my boot on it. I then grabbed hold of his kutte at the arm-hole, behind his shoulder. Using my leg and my grip on him, I hoisted myself up high enough to throw over my opposite leg. As I settled behind him, it would have been a bold-faced-lie to say I didn’t feel like a total badass.
Fortunately, he couldn’t see the proud smirk pulling at my lips from his vantage point.
The expression was gone with a gasp when he reached back, grabbed both of my thighs, and yanked me forward, until I was plastered against him. Something warm and tingly sparked within. Rather than ignore it or shove it aside, I found myself leaning into it as I relaxed.
Satisfied, he raised his kickstand, revved his engine, and began to back out of my driveway. I locked my arms around his middle, and then we were barreling out of my quiet neighborhood—my hair dancing in the wind.
It was a short ride,and he was pulling into the parking lot five minutes later. I was a little disappointed when my boots hit the ground, but I didn’t say as much. I waited for Twister to dismount and then followed him inside.
The Chophouse was far from dead on a Monday night, but we were still seated almost right away. Twister got his wish, and we were escorted to a table out on the patio, under a wide, red umbrella. When we were left with our menus, he barely looked at his before he set it aside and leaned back casually in his chair.
I wondered how often he frequented the place.
I wondered, too, if what he said earlier was true—that he hadn’t been on a single date since he became a Stallion.
I wondered why me? Why now?
I wondered a lot of things, but I didn’t ask.
The last thing I wanted was those same questions aimed my way.
Our server came to the table, and Twister surprised me when he ordered a glass of water and then asked if I was ready with my dinner selection.
I seconded his request for water and opted for the filet. He ordered the ribeye, and then we were left to ourselves.
“Dropped by to see Lane yesterday,” Twister told me. “Tiny little tyke. You been back, yet?”
“Uh, no,” I stammered, caught off guard by the question as much as I was surprised he thought his visit was important enough to mention. “Are they—settling in?” I asked, not sure how else to respond.
“So far as I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “Mav’ll be home for another week. Jenna looked tired but happy. Seems par for the course.”
I nodded but didn’t offer much else. I’d had enough on my plate to all but forget the way I bolted out of the Daughtry residence at the mere thought of holding the precious babe. I didn’t want to think about it now, either, which meant I didn’t want to talk about baby Lane or his tired but happy mother.
An awkward silence settled between Twister and me, and I dropped my focus down onto the table.
“Sparky?” he called gently.
My gaze shot up to meet his before I could think better of it.
He smiled, having bested me again, and I narrowed eyes at him.
Leaning forward, he propped himself against his forearms on the table as he went on to say, “Baby, we’re on a date. I told you somethin’—now it’s your turn. It’s called a conversation.”
I rolled my eyes then held up my right hand so he could see it when I flipped him off. His smile turned into a grin as he chuckled.
“I know how to be on a date. I sure as hell don’t need lessons fromyou.”
