Wild Ride (Wind Dragons MC #4.5)(15)

“I told myself I wouldn’t get angry even if you did bail, but . . . I guess I wanted to be different to you.”

“Different?”

“Than other women,” she tries to explain, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” I tell her, cupping her cheek with my hand, then looking toward her house when I see Rhett looking through the window, giving me a look similar to the one his mother was giving me moments ago. “Your son is watching us, so I better go. When can I see you next? Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?”

She glances behind her, then back at me. “Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

“I’d like that,” she says, smiling.

I want to kiss her, but her kid is watching, so I need to be on my best behavior. “I’ll pick you up at seven. You ever been on the back of a bike before?”

“No,” she says, making me feel all warm inside.

“Good,” I reply, my gaze lowering to her lips. “Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Tomorrow,” she says, flashing me a seductive grin and turning around to head inside.

I’ve crossed the line and now there’s no going back. I tried to stay away from her, I did, but now I’ve come too far. There’s only moving forward, and I’ll handle whatever is thrown at me to have this girl, to get to know her and see if she’s what I think she is.

Mine.



She fits on the back of my bike like she’s meant to be there. With her arms around me and her cheek pressed against my back, we ride to the restaurant I chose specifically to take her to tonight. The food is good, but more than that, it’s private and we’ll be able to talk. I want to get to know her. I know it takes time, but we have to start somewhere. I help her off the bike and hold her hand as we walk into the Italian restaurant. I open the door for her, wondering when the f*ck I became a gentleman.

“This place is nice,” she says, looking around. She looks so sexy in her tight black jeans and her white top, and I can’t help but glance down at her ass a few times. Okay, so maybe I’m not that much of a gentleman.

“It’s my favorite,” I admit to her, leading her to my regular table with a hand on her lower back.

“Hey, Talon,” Rio, the owner, says. He looks down at Tia and his eyes widen. “And who is this?”

“Hey, Rio,” I say, handing Tia a menu. “This is Tia. Tia, this is Rio.”

“Hello,” she says, smiling at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is the first time Talon has brought a woman here,” he says, taking her hand and kissing it, making me grit my teeth. “You are very beautiful, Tia.”

“And now you know why,” I mutter, taking Tia’s hand away from him. She just laughs, finding the whole thing amusing, but really I want to punch him in the face for kissing a part of her that I haven’t yet. If I didn’t know he’s gay, I might have done just that.

I’ve known Rio for years. We actually went to high school together, so he knows me pretty well. His hobbies include annoying the f*ck out of me on purpose, but I suppose that’s what friends do. I’m the one who gave him the start-up money for this place, and his food is amazing, so it’s my regular haunt. He’s right though: I’ve never brought a woman here before. I’m not going to overthink why exactly I brought Tia here on our first date.

“Let me know when the two of you are ready to order,” he says, slapping my shoulder as he walks away.

“He seems nice,” she says, opening the menu and starting to browse.

“He’s definitely something,” I murmur, watching her expression as she reads what’s on the menu.

“So you come here a lot, then?”

“You could say that.”

“What do you normally order then?” she asks, glancing up at me. “Everything looks good.”

“I usually get the carbonara,” I tell her, not even bothering to look at my menu, I know it so well. “But everything is good. Take your time and choose whatever you want.”

She puts the menu down and studies me. “I have to admit, I never thought the day would come when you’d ask me out on a date.” She pauses. “Is this something you do a lot?”

I lean my arms on the table, my lip twitching at the start of her interrogation. “I think the last time I went on a date was in high school. I was probably, like, sixteen. Regina Belle. She let me go to third base that night.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” I say, feeling amused. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

She tilts her head to the side, considering. “Maybe three months ago.”

“And how did it go?” I ask, curious, and also a little jealous. I had no idea she’d been on a date so recently.

“Well,” she says, leaning back in her chair, an odd expression on her face. “I met him online. He told me he was a carpenter, but he was actually just unemployed and only made furniture when he needed money for weed. He also offered me a Valium, so I’m going to go with not well.”

“Sounds like a winner,” I say, stifling the urge to laugh. “Online dating? You don’t get enough men hitting on you in real life?”