Page 12 of Off Her Game
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“You’re kidding, right?” Tori stared disbelief at Noah.
“About what?”
“A motorcycle? I’m wearing a dress.”This is one of two that I own.“When Emma said you wanted to pick me up, to drive us yourself,thisisn’t what I expected.”
“The dress is nice. Really nice.” His gaze slid to the low dip above her breasts. As a man, his DNA was programmed to look. And maybe she’d chosen this dress to make sure looking happened.
“You could ride sidesaddle? Come on, sometimes you gotta live a little.” He held out a helmet.
“You want me to mess up my hair, too? I don’t put product in my hair for anyone, but because in the normal world I’d probably be super into this date, I did.” She touched the long, dark tresses, which with product waved like she had a perm.
“Your hair should shake out without a problem.”
Said like a man who didn’t have long hair or work for the past two hours to make sure the curls happened.
“It’s a gorgeous night. Seventy-five degrees in March is almost unheard of. I wanted to get her out of the garage, but I didn’t think… Are you scared?” His brows drew together.
Was he callingherchicken? Oh no no no. “A few tattoos and piercings and you assume I’m a bike girl?”
“Nothing like that.” He ducked his head. “All right, maybe it was like that.”
“I’ve been on a few bikes. Sidesaddle is for movies and dipshits. It’s not the bike that’s the problem.”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. Totally didn’t think you might not be into it. If you want to change clothes, I can wait, but I like the dress. This was a stupid idea.” He fiddled with the helmet he’d offered her. His fluster was kind of cute.
She nibbled on her lower lip. Might as well just throw it out there. “I have this thing about the helmets. They’re tight.”
“Tight? They’re for safety. They have to be tight.”
“I know. They kind of freak me out. I have a claustrophobia thing.”
“Forget it. I’ll park it here and call my driver to pick us up.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Damn it. I should’ve texted you before, but it was a spur of the moment decision.”
She touched his arm to stop him from sending the text. “It’s a nice night.”
On a deep inhale, she pulled the helmet over her head.One, two, three…She continued counting until she reached fifteen, then opened her eyes. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs while she struggled not to feel like a cat crammed into a hamster tube.
“You okay?” His voice echoed inside the helmet. “I’m serious. We don’t have to.”
“I’m good.” Way too much stress packed itself into the words.
He mounted the bike and held out his hand to help her on behind him.
There wasn’t a way to climb on the bike with grace. Being a shorty sucked. She tucked her purse under an arm, hiked a leg, exposing all the way up her thigh to straddle the Ducati. About half of the dragon tattoo that trekked up her inner leg showed before she tucked her dress tight.
“That was a dragon.” He said it in a way she couldn’t tell if it was a question or comment.
“I’ve got a few of them.”Got yourself a good look, did you?No giggling. A firm lip compression kept any noise from escaping.She could’ve flashed less skin, but she’d wanted him to look. Call it payback for making her put on this helmet.
“How many do you have?” His stupefied fascination was so adorable that a small giggle noise escaped her. She cleared her throat to hide it.
“I’m not sure I know you well enough yet to have a tattoo discussion, Noah.”
“Right. Shit, this date is a train wreck, isn’t it?”
A laugh burst free. “Then thank God it’s not real. For future reference, ink discussions involve showing. Mine are in spots that require lack of clothes. Show-and-tell costs some talented tongue action first.”
