Moonlight Road (Virgin River #11)(38)

“I shaved and got a haircut. You can never tell when I might have an interview for a job or something.”

“I meant to mention when you turned up with Art, I’m impressed you actually have a car. One that’s under ten years old. Wow.”

“Get dressed—I’m going to take you out and show you how to have fun.” He wore shorts, tennis shoes without socks, a light jacket over a T-shirt, ready for a casual day.

“Huh? I was asleep!”

“It’s time to get up, Erin,” he said patiently. “Put on some shorts and tennis shoes. I have sunscreen…. You have that weak redhead’s skin and we have to keep you from getting burned. I don’t suppose you have a ball cap?”

“No,” she said irritably.

“Well, I brought you a helmet, you’ll be okay. I have bikes and a picnic lunch in the car.”

“But I haven’t had a shower! Or breakfast!”

“I can wait a little while, but let’s not burn daylight. I’ll buy you breakfast. Or grab one of those candy-ass yogurts for the road.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I want to go on a bike ride?”

“Total and absolute boredom, that’s what,” he said. He grinned at her. “Isn’t that what drove you to bake for the bear? Come on, I shaved! How much effort do you want from me?”

“You could ask,” she instructed.

He slammed the car door and walked toward her. When he was right in front of her he said, “Don’t stand on ceremony. You don’t have anything better to do. Now how about you get dressed and let’s head for the coast. I’ll show you how to vacation. Then I’ll bring you home and water your tomatoes.” He grinned lasciviously.

She thought about this for a moment and decided to ignore the double entendre of his comment. Instead, she asked, “Bicycles?”

“Yup. With helmets and a picnic lunch.”

“Well, all right. But after this, you have to ask in advance.”

He lifted a brow. “Should I ask your secretary to put me on your calendar?” He grabbed her upper arms, turned her away from him and gave her a slap on the rump. “Move it—I don’t want to wait all day for you!”

One of the realities of being a well-known, successful attorney—Erin couldn’t remember anyone ever slapping her on the rump to get her going. Ever. Not even those few men she’d dated more than twice. She was conflicted—there was a part of her indignant that he’d take such liberties, part of her delighted.

It hadn’t escaped her that under those smelly hiking clothes and the coarse red beard was an unbelievably handsome, good-smelling man. Almost knee-shakingly handsome. He had high cheekbones, glittering green eyes, pitch-black hair, a strong chin, expressive brows. And maybe if he hadn’t had that bushy red beard before, she might have noticed he also had a fantastic physique—broad, muscled shoulders, a flat belly, a cute masculine butt, straight, powerful legs.

But he was a little arrogant, assuming that if he showed up, she would spend the day with him. Of course, he had saved her from the bear. Sort of. And he was right—she didn’t have anything to do. Still, she didn’t omit even a minute of her ritual grooming, though she knew the effects would be lost once she was biking—something she hadn’t done in years! She was a little pouty in the car en route to the coast, but then when they were driving along a winding road on the high cliffs above the ocean, the beauty stunned her, dazzled her. “Ohhhh,” she said, letting out her breath.

“Bout time,” he said. “What’s not to like about a day riding along the ocean? You’ll love it and you’ll sleep like the dead tonight. Guaranteed.”

Aiden parked his car at an outlook point and asked for her help getting the bikes out of the back. He had an open basket that he attached to the handlebars of his bike and put a plaid blanket in it. On the back he attached the picnic basket to the seat and fender. Their lunch, she presumed. He pulled a backpack over his shoulders; he was taking the whole load. Then he squirted sunscreen in her palm, and when she was done smearing it on her arms and legs, he fit the helmet onto her head. “I’ll follow you,” he said. “It’s safer.”

As he pulled back his hand to give her a whack on the butt, she skittered out of his way. He chuckled.

“Which way?” she asked.

“Any direction you like.”

She looked north and south; south looked flatter. She mounted the bike and took off. And pedaled like mad, while behind her, traveling at a nice clip, Aiden was whistling.

Like every other aspect of her life, from her diet to her morning exercise program, Erin had a strict routine. She did some yoga and weights; she walked on the treadmill and StairMaster now and then. Forty-five minutes every morning. But endurance training like biking or running? She never had the interest or time. Within five minutes she was panting and sweating and behind her—that infernal whistling. But damn him, she kept going and refused to feel guilty that she wasn’t any faster or stronger. After all, his days were probably spent working, and then working out right before a night of chasing women. She worked at least twelve-hour days in an office or courtroom. But she pushed herself on that bike for an hour, by which time she wanted to die.

When she was almost ready to throw in the towel, the air was pierced by a whistle and Aiden yelled, “Pull over!” She was so grateful she could have kissed him. He dismounted and was walking his bike down the beach on the hard-packed sand and she followed. Finally he stopped and pulled a couple of sports drinks out of the backpack, handing her one.