Page 103 of Bellini Bound
Fuck my life.
It looked like today, I would be getting on the back of a motorcycle, with nothing more than blind faith that Enzo could keep his promise and we wouldn’t end up as roadkill.
“Okay,” I agreed.
A smile stretched across my husband’s face, and his beautiful hazel eyes lit up with so much excitement it was nearly blinding as he let out a whoop.
“You won’t regret this, I promise.”
“Don’t expect this to become a regular occurrence,” I warned. “This is a one-time deal, understand?”
His head bobbed enthusiastically. “Got it.”
“And I think it goes without saying that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing on the back of a bike.”
Folding his lips inward wasn’t enough to keep the smile he fought from reaching his eyes. “I’ve got you, babe. All you have to do is hang onto me and lean when I lean. Super simple.”
“Mm-hmm, sure.”
“Here’s your helmet.” He offered the shiny black piece of head protection.
My eyes lifted to scan the row of motorcycles lining the second level of the garage. “Which one are we taking?”
Enzo shook his head, striding toward the large exterior door. “None of those.”
“Wait, what?” I trailed after him in confusion.
He pressed a button along the wall, and the grinding gears sounded as the early-evening light filtered in through the opening garage door.
There, in the driveway, was a far larger motorcycle than any of the ones he currently owned. The bench seat was long and wide, and it had some kind of backrest toward the rear tire.
“Didn’t have any two-seater bikes, so I bought a new toy,” Enzo explained, his chest puffed up with pride.
I hummed. “Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s the only reason.”
A cheesy grin worked its way onto his face. “Okay, you caught me. I’ve been dying to get a new set of wheels all winter.”
Trailing a fingertip over the leather seat, I teased, “Are you sure you know how to drive this hunk of metal?”
He scoffed. “You doubting me?”
I lifted one shoulder. “It would be awfully disappointing to learn this whole bad boy image is nothing more than a façade.”
With a growl, he lunged, hauling me to his chest in one fluid motion. “Did you just accuse me of faking it?”
“Those are your words, not mine,” I shot back.
“Just for that, I’m going to go extra fast.”
My jaw dropped open as I realized that maybe I’d taken it a step too far. Becausefaster? There was no way I was going to survive this ride without peeing my pants at this rate.
“If you play with fire, baby, you’d better expect to get burned.” Enzo released me, hitching one leg over the side of the motorcycle to straddle the seat before beckoning with a curled finger. “Get over here.”
Grudgingly, I complied, scuffing up the soles of my brand-new boots by dragging my feet. Enzo extended his hands once I got close enough, helping me put on my helmet and secure the chin strap before doing the same with his own.
Crossing myself dramatically, I sat down on the seat behind him, allowing him to position my feet in the proper place before looping my arms around his waist.
Through a speaker inside my helmet, I heard him choke out, “Not so tight.”
