The Dating Plan(73)

He collapsed against her, his forehead resting against hers. “How’s our time?”

“I don’t know,” she said with wonder. “I wasn’t keeping count.”

His lips brushed lightly over her nose. He seemed in no hurry to release her, so she drew him closer, languid in his arms.

“I think I’m ready for that motorcycle ride.”

He looked up and grinned. “I can hardly wait.”

“Liam?”

“Yes?” He nuzzled her neck.

“You won’t be going to your hot tub party. I’m changing the rules. No dating is allowed. Your amended dating plan will be in your inbox by morning.”

“Daisy?” he whispered her name.

“Yes?”

“The only person I’d want to be in a hot tub with is you.”





? 25 ?


    Saturday, 8:00 A.M.

DAISY: Confirming Date #6. 9 a.m. Visit motorcycle shop to buy gear then motorcycle ride. Objective: ??

LIAM: Who gets up at 8 a.m. on a Saturday?

DAISY: I had to take Max out and I’m making you breakfast.

LIAM: Very noisy. Trying to sleep. Need to recover from night with sex-crazed fake fiancée.

DAISY: What’s our objective on this date?

LIAM: This is for us. Shared experience. Photographic evidence of you in leather.

DAISY: Confirming Date #6. 9 a.m. Visit motorcycle shop to buy gear then motorcycle ride. Objective: Shared experience, pictures of Daisy in leather.

LIAM: Did you seriously just do that?

DAISY: Don’t pretend to be surprised.

LIAM: Where’s my breakfast? Was supposed to be asleep. Now hungry.

DAISY: Stop complaining or you’ll have to make it yourself.

LIAM: Are you going to bring it to me in bed?

DAISY: It’s no longer a bed; it’s just a mattress.

LIAM: Are you going to bring it to me on the mattress?

DAISY: Yes.

LIAM: Naked?

DAISY: You want a naked breakfast?

LIAM: Is there any other kind?





* * *



? ? ?

HAMISH had been on the road again. Liam could tell as soon as he walked into McCallum’s Motorcycles; the familiar scents of diesel and leather were overpowered by the rich tang of barbecued ribs.

“You trying to drive the customers away?” He held the door for Daisy, and the bell tinkled behind them.

“I wish I could drive them away,” Hamish said. “I’ve got so much work I’ve barely got time to eat.”

“You clearly had time to ride. I thought the doctor told you to stay off the bike and eat healthy. Heart surgery is no joke.”

Well over six feet, with thick arms and a few extra pounds on his belly, his long brown hair streaked with gray, Hamish was the best motorcycle mechanic in the city and Liam’s first employer. He’d been approached by no less than five outlaw motorcycle clubs hoping to lure him away, but Hamish loved his shop—an old garage in the Theatre District—and his freedom. He also loved the gossip his biker customers shared about themselves and each other.

“Don’t give me a hard time about my food,” Hamish said. “Life isn’t worth living without ribs. I got my friend Lucas to bring me ribs the day after my surgery. Puked them all up and sent him out for more.” His steely blue eyes zeroed in on Daisy. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

“This is Daisy. My fiancée.”

Hamish wiped his hand on his Ride or Die T-shirt. “You ride, sweetheart?”

“No, but—”

“Didn’t think so.”

She gave an affronted sniff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means there’s some people who live to ride and some people who live to hide.” He lit a cigarette and took a slow, considered drag.

“It’s illegal to use those indoors,” Daisy said. “Smoking can kill.”

“But it’s fantastic after a morning ride along the coast, followed by a good fuck with a pretty girl, and an amazing three-course Korean barbecue.” He blew out a smoke ring, and Daisy coughed.

“Daisy is going to ride pillion on my bike,” Liam explained, before Hamish could share any more details of the story he was clearly dying to tell. “We came to get some gear.”

“So you finally got yourself an old lady.” Hamish took another puff.

“‘Old lady’!” Daisy huffed. “I’m not old.”

“That’s what we call the girl who sits behind her man.” Hamish wheezed out a cloud of smoke.

“What if the woman’s riding and the man’s on the back? What’s he called?”

“A pussy.” Hamish made a rumbling sound, a laugh that shook his belly.

“We’ll also need a pillion seat and pegs,” Liam said quickly. Hamish’s sense of humor wasn’t to everyone’s taste.

“You’ll need a grab bar and backrest, too, if you’re gonna take a newbie out on your XDiavel.” Hamish blew another smoke ring. “You’re lucky I’ve got some time. I can get it ready for you right away and you can be on the road in an hour.” He pointed to a rack at the back of the store. “Ladies’ gear is over there.”