Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(21)
“No, I said you were going to meet my brothers. Big difference. Between where we’re going and the way we’re getting there, I’m thinking you’d be smart to ditch the skirt and wiggle into some jeans. Boots, too, if you’ve got ’em.”
“Boots?”
He punched the power button and fought the need to kick his feet up on the coffee table. Comfort was one thing, but mucking up the clean surface seemed a dick move even if he was out to build some professional distance with his demanding behavior. “Yep. Whatever kind you’ve got. Or close-toed shoes if you don’t have those.”
“Why?”
Thumbing through the guide, he scowled at the screen. Basic cable only. He’d have to fix that. Assuming she got a thumbs-up from the guys and things moved forward. Then again, as busy as he planned to keep her, movie binges wouldn’t be in her future for a while. He punched CNN and dialed back the volume. “Because while you’d look badass wearing those heels riding on the back of my bike, they wouldn’t do much to keep your pretty toes protected.”
“Your bike?” It was just two words, but with them a whole new demeanor swept over her, the sharp-edged battle-ready business woman replaced with a kid pre-Christmas morning. “You mean motorcycle, correct? Not bicycle.”
For some stupid reason, his mind coughed up the ludicrous image of him peddling his old hand-me-down dirt bike with her perched in the center of the handlebars. “That depends. Is your enthusiasm in favor of the motorized variety? Or do you have a thing for self-powered means of transportation?”
The smile she shot him was blinding. Pure, unadulterated joy in the making. “I’m very much in favor of motorcycles.”
Fuck.
Her accent was sexy enough when she was throwing him sass, but mixed with the husky rasp it was downright lethal. Thank God he was sitting down and stretched out to give his dick room to swell or he’d be damned uncomfortable. “Are you a fan because you’ve ridden before, or because you want to?”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to.”
Well, wasn’t this a delightful revelation. He’d get to feel her body pressed against him and he’d give her a first. A win-win for everyone. He jerked his head toward her bedroom and prayed she’d be too preoccupied in her excitement to notice how much he was looking forward to popping at least one kind of cherry. “Then get a move on. We need to get you saddled up and ready to ride.”
*
Riding on the back of a Harley with Knox Torren had to be on the top of Darya’s best-ever experience list. Everything seemed so much closer. So much more vibrant and tangible than it did from the safety of her car. With her chest pressed against his back, her arms banded around his solid abs and his rich masculine scent mingling with the whipping wind it was pure heaven on Earth. An extraordinary rush.
Knox leaned into a turn that took them through a major intersection and steered them toward a park on the opposite side of the highway bustling with at least a thousand people. A well-manicured green stretched the length of two city blocks, dotted on each side with slender pin oaks and old-fashioned street lights. At the farthest end, a huge stage had been set up, it’s red, blue and white lights pulsing in time with music that registered even above the motorcycle’s roar.
She smiled and hugged her arms tighter around Knox. JJ would have loved this. Every second of it. Although, knowing JJ, she wouldn’t have been content as a mere passenger. No, ten minutes into the ride, she’d have devised a plan to buy her own bike and would’ve launched her first solo trip shortly after. Nothing had ever held JJ back. Not her fears and certainly not her past—which was the main reason she’d been so adamant to help Darya right up until the day she’d died.
Too soon, Knox backed them into a line of other motorcycles in a makeshift parking lot. All the others were similar in size to his, but none had the same edgy appearance. Where the others were all shiny chrome and flash, his was lean, mean and all business with ebony paint and matte black pipes. He killed the engine and the thrumming beat of a blues song surged in to fill the void.
So, this was what a live concert was like. Directly in front of the stage, the crowd was thick with people standing shoulder to shoulder, but farther back clusters of attendees had set up sport chairs or thrown down blankets to enjoy the show. Most fascinating of all were the variety of people. Young, old and everyone in between. Social status didn’t seem to equate here. As if all the world’s biases had clocked out for the night and simply opened its arms to everyone.
Knox craned his head just enough to grin back at her. “If you hop off, I’ll get you in the thick of it instead of making you soak it up from the parking lot.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She braced her hands on his shoulders, barely stifling the urge to savor the compacted muscles beneath her palms, and set about getting herself vertical. Thankfully, the dismount came off a lot less awkward than when she’d climbed on. Then again, after the exhilarating ride, she was so pumped up on adrenaline she probably could have levitated off the machine if she’d put her mind to it.
The second she cleared the seat, Knox popped the kickstand, put the bike to rest and swung his leg over the back like a modern-day cowboy.
Maybe it was the energy around her, or the genuine smile he gave her as he turned and stuffed his keys inside the pocket of his faded jeans. But in one overpowering moment, all the emotions she’d kept carefully contained since the day JJ died surged to the surface, knocking aside every scrap of common sense and decorum in favor of unadulterated gratitude.