Page 12 of Shine: Sins of the Father
He nods, studying me, and seems satisfied with my answer. “You hungry?”
I rub my upper arms. “I could eat, but I didn’t see any food in the kitchen when they dropped me off.” I’m getting pretty good at making shit up, it seems.
His gaze shifts toward the road. “I was told there’s an old general store not far up the road. Want to take a ride?” He nods toward his bike, and it’s the first time I notice it parked near the rear of the cabin. It’s a pretty black Harley with hard-sided saddlebags.
“Um, sure.” It’s been a while since I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle. I think I was in high school the last time my father took me for a ride.
“Come on.” He tips his head toward the door, and I brush past him.
He snags my neck and pulls me in for a quick kiss before letting me go. “Why don’t you check the cabinets in the kitchen and see what there is while I get dressed?.”
“Sure.” Striding toward it, I glance back and watch his ass as he walks away. Even his walk is sexy, his shoulders rolling with each stride. My eyes trail down to the dimples at the base of his spine—ones I’d stroked my hands over last night as he rode me, thrusting in and out slowly, holding my eyes the entire time.
I shake my head and turn to the cabinets, trying not to read anything into it. The man was good in bed, really good, but that doesn’t mean I meant anything to him. Still, it’s hard not to imagine, if just for a moment, that this is more than it is—that we are actually a couple. I let the fantasy drift through my head and imagine what it would be like if he really was my man.
Gazing out the window above the sink, I let my imagination go.
I see myself clinging to him on the back of his bike, and him reaching back and stroking my thigh. Then I wrap my arms around his shoulders and…
The sound of a throat clearing startles me. I don’t hear him until he’s walked up behind me, his hands landing on my hips to pull me against his chest. His mouth trails up my neck, and he nibbles on my ear.
“You look lost in thought,” he murmurs.
I turn my head toward his, and he kisses my cheek. “I suppose I was for a moment.”
“You ready?” he asks, stepping away.
“Yep. There’s not much here except some canned goods, and what there is, could have been here a while. There’s a canister of coffee, but I doubt it's fresh. I found the basic salt andpepper, and that’s about it, besides plates, and essential kitchen equipment.”
“Okay, then. Guess we’re limited only by how much we can fit in the saddlebags. Come on, pretty girl.”
I grab my jacket off the back of a chair and follow him out to his bike.
He digs out a spare helmet and passes it to me. I notice there are stickers on it—ones only a girl would put on her helmet.
“Whose helmet is this?” The question is out of my mouth before I can think better of it.
His mouth tightens, and he busies himself with climbing on and firing the bike up. “A friend.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, I let it go. Besides, I think the engine noise as he revs the throttle is meant to discourage any further discussion on the subject.
I climb on behind Shine, find the foot pegs with my feet, and hang on.
He turns his head and glances out of the corner of his eye. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
With my answer, he pulls out of the gravel driveway onto the blacktop, and we roar down the road.
My love of riding comes flooding back, and I wonder why I haven’t asked one of my brothers for a ride in all these years. I used to love racing down the highway, the wind in my face, the thunder of the engine beneath me. I don’t know why I’ve let so much time pass without getting on the back of one.
My father wanted me to go riding with him this past spring, but I declined. Now I wish I hadn’t.
I can tell Shine has abundant riding skills, as I’d expect from any member of the MC. He doesn’t do anything risky or play the daredevil, so I know he respects me enough to take my safety seriously. It makes me respect him all the more. He’s old enoughthat his daredevil days are probably behind him, anyway. The younger prospects always seem to ride crazy and act the fool, which has never impressed me.
The road eventually intersects with a highway, and on the corner sits Wilson’s. It’s the quintessential old-fashioned general store. I remember coming here with my parents as a child.
There’s a gravel parking lot, and Shine rolls across it, his tires crunching on the rock.
