Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1)(70)

The wind picks up and the silence is frightened away with the roar of the trees bending. Both Oz and I shift with the flow of air and Oz doesn’t move the bike until the breeze gentles.

Oz kicks down the stand and the bike tilts, but not too much. He sets a hand over the fingers that I laced together across his stomach. Oh, hell, I’m plastic wrapped to him. I drop my head onto his shoulder and it places me closer, and closer is not what I need.

I go to unglue myself, but Oz squeezes my fingers, sending a jolt of electricity up my arms. “You okay?”

I have to clear my throat to speak and that just sucks. “Yes.”

Oz slides his fingers against mine and a fluttering occurs in my stomach. It’s a light fluttering. Ticklish even, and my survival instincts scream at me to get off this motorcycle.

Placing distance between us, I remove my hands and when I swing my leg over, I accidently tap it against the bike. The material of my jeans rides up and a burning pain flashes against my skin.

I yelp and jerk to get away and, because I possess no grace, end up with my hands flailing in circles in an attempt to find balance while I stay precariously upright on my heels.

Oz snatches my wrist before I begin the descent to the ground. In a heartbeat, he’s off his bike and he yanks me until my body collides with his. I melt with the pressure of his hand on my lower back.

“Are you okay?” he asks again. Concern softens his face and damn, he’s handsome.

Because any and all words are trapped in my windpipe, I nod. His black hair is a mess. Spiked up into multiple tufts and I’d give anything to touch it right now. To brush it away from his forehead. To caress the shadow forming on his jaw.

Oh, holy hell, he’s warm and solid and I enjoy being pressed up against him too much.

“Did you burn yourself?”

Does he think he’s that warm? “What?”

“You cried out. Did you burn yourself on the exhaust pipe?”

“No.” Probably. I step back and Oz lowers his arms. “I’m fine.”

I suck in a surprised breath at the view. “Wow. This is what you call a pond?”

Oz

THE PURE JOY on Emily’s face brightens my mood and creates a surge of pride. I’ve put a ton of hours into this place. I helped Dad hang the rope from the old oak tree, nailed in over half of the shingles on the small cabin and stood waist deep in the water as we sank in the posts for the dock. The property belongs to Cyrus, but it’s a part of me.

Emily walks onto the dock and shields her eyes from the glare of the sun hitting the water. “It’s really pretty.”

“I like it,” I respond. With her back to me, I unfasten the holster holding the gun Eli gave me and hide it in the saddlebag, then join her on the dock.

“What you did for Olivia today...her nails. Thanks for that. She has diminished strength in that side and it’s hard for her...” To accept the repercussions of the stroke that started this nightmare. The ache in my chest steals my breath.

Emily’s gaze flickers in my direction then it jumps to the water. “It was no problem.”

“Did you fix her coffee for her?” Because Olivia is left-handed and doing things with her right side has been challenging.

“Ponds are large holes,” she says. “This is a small lake.”

That’d be a yes, but as Emily suggested before, she won’t lie. My respect for her grows.

Now would be the traditional moment when we strip. Emily does slip off her boots, but remains clothed as she settles on the end of the dock. Fuck it. I peel off my shirt and toss it behind Emily. “You know it’s a million degrees, right?”

Emily looks up at me and her focus wanders down. Crimson races across her cheeks and she immediately redirects her attention to the water. “Um...yeah.”

“Are you coming in?”

I flick the button of my jeans and undo the zipper. My lips twitch when Emily’s head lifts with the sound. Is she also remembering that kiss a few weeks back? Because I am. Standing behind Emily as she sits painfully straight, I reposition a part of myself and then slide off my jeans.

Three steps and I cannonball it in. The rush of cold water is exactly what’s called for and when I kick up from the bottom, I tie my swim trunks. Emerging naked in front of Emily isn’t what either of us need. I surface and shake the water out of my hair.

Emily throws her arm up as the droplets land on her. “Oh my God, you’re half dog.”

I chuckle. “If you only knew the truth. Jump in.”

A bead of sweat rolls down her neck from her hairline. Wearing jeans is required when riding with me and she’s suffering for it. Jeans won’t protect her from everything, but they can help keep her legs safe from burns, road debris or if I screw up and we take a fall.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “About the truth?”

It means she’s not the first girl I’ve kissed. “Nothing. Come in or I’m coming out to throw you in. You’re not going to die of heatstroke on my watch.”

Emily’s legs nervously swing. “This isn’t my swimsuit.”

“So?”

“So...it’s not mine...and...this...shows a lot more...than I’m used to.”

I cough to cover the laugh. Even with the Nashville shopping trip, she’s been rocking Violet’s clothes and there’s a part of me that’s considered writing Violet a thank-you note. Especially for those cut-offs from yesterday. Jesus, Emily’s sweet ass was practically hanging out.