Wrapping her in his arms, Cree made a silent promise to himself that for however long Kennedy stayed his, he would make sure she knew how loved she was. Starting right then. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he made up his mind to say those three little words that every woman wanted to hear. “Kennedy?”
“Hmm?”
“You know I love you, right?”
“What?”
“I love you.”
The tears were back, and so was the snot and all the other things that came with a woman sobbing her eyes out. “I . . . love . . . you . . . too,” she managed to get out between the sobs and nose blowing. He’d never seen a woman get so emotional over three words, but he loved it.
Once she settled down and got the hysteria behind her, Kennedy told him again that she loved him. “Now that that’s settled, we need to get our asses moving,” Cree said as he kissed her smartly on the mouth. He made sure she knew if her hip started hurting to let him know. Like she said, there was always next year.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The weather was more of the same as the day before. The high would be around forty-two, but the temp wouldn’t get there until around two or three p.m. There were a lot of hours between then and now.
They had eleven-and-a-half hours left before they would arrive at the clubhouse.
Cree didn’t want to tell Kennedy that he didn’t think they’d make it. Instead, he picked up their bags and headed to pack the bike. He was buttoning up one saddle bag when he got a call from Eros, another nomad from the Montreal chapter. “Eros. What’s doing, Nakota?” Eros was from the First Nation like Cree. His tribe was one of the six known from the Plains. They were the Nakota, which was where the nickname came from.
“I hear you’re heading into Montreal from Deep River, Cree.”
“Nah, we had a lot of damn delays. We’re about two hours west of Sault Ste. Marie.”
“Ontario side?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s even better. I have to make a run down south and I have a package for Teller. We’ll both hit Deep River around the same time.”
“Do you have a location in mind?”
“Nope. Whoever gets there first, shoot the other a message with the location.”
“Sounds good, brother. Keep the rubber side down.”
“You do the same.”
Cree hung up as a knock came from the hotel room window. Glancing up, he tried reading Kennedy’s lips. Giving her a shrug, he watched as she pointed outside and rubbed her arms as if cold.
He got the question then—she wanted to know how cold it was. Holding up three fingers on one hand and five on the other, he gave her the current temp, then he pointed upwards and showed her forty-five. Kennedy gave Cree a thumbs up before disappearing from view.
Kennedy made one last pass through the bathroom and bedroom before pulling on her riding gear. Along with her bracelet, Cree had surprised her with a pair of black leather chaps he’d picked up at the bike shop for her. She’d checked herself out at least five times after she managed to wrangle the damn things on.
It wasn’t as easy as one would think. First, she had to unzip the legs and then buckle the waist, cinching it tight, though not too tight, but tight enough. Then she had to wrap the leg portion around her leg and hold the two sides together while trying to get the zipper hooked. Once that was done, she had to zip them down, all the way to the bottom, with the buckle on the waistband digging into her stomach. Then she had to repeat all of it on the other leg.
She was already sweating by the time she’d gotten them on. Then she saw her boots on the chair and swore like a sailor. Thinking it over, Kennedy unbuckled the waistband and held it so the damn chaps wouldn’t fall down. Taking a seat, she put on her boots then buckled the chaps. “It’s a good thing the place isn’t on fire,” she grumbled out loud. Pulling on her riding jacket, she glanced around making sure they hadn’t missed anything.
At the door, she turned back toward the hotel room. This was the last time she’d be alone with Cree without anyone interfering in their relationship. “Fuck ‘em if they don’t like it,” she said and exited the room.
Cree had finished looking over the bike when Kennedy stepped into view. The spit in his mouth dried up at the sight of her in the leather chaps. The woman had the finest ass he’d ever seen, and seeing it framed by leather, he could honestly say he was jealous of the chaps. “Damn, iskwew, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“You bought them.”
“I had no idea your ass could look sexier. How wrong I was.” Cree signalled for her to spin around for him. He wanted the three hundred sixty view. “You might have to wear them without anything underneath for me one night.” He waggled his brows at her.
Kennedy laughed at him as she thought she’d do just that as soon as they were settled in Montreal. “Are we ready to ride?”
