She slowly takes it out of my hand and brings it to her face as she goes through it.
I pull out my phone and tap on my contact at the police.
“Hello,” Parker answers.
“It’s Reaper. We are on our way.”
“I will let the investigator know. He will interview her.”
I hang up, and she’s staring at me.
“Thank you for the phone.” Her voice is unsteady, still full of emotion.
She’s an excellent cook, kind and caring and sexy as fuck. What the hell is wrong with her husband? We move down the stairs and through the house, but she halts where the keys are. “Did you want to go in the truck or on my motorcycle?”
A touch of a smile crosses her face. “I’ve always wanted to ride on a motorcycle.”
I was hoping she would say that. After I grab my keys, we walk out the front door and head for the shed. Rage moves toward us, holding a case of beer. “Can you tell the women to get dinner ready because Ava won’t be making it tonight?”
His chin lifts. “My pleasure,” he says in a smug tone.
His hard work as a prospect doesn’t go unnoticed. He will make a good MC club member.
In the shed, I grab Elena’s helmet from the table and her leather jacket, then walk over to my motorcycle. I glance back to see Ava walking leisurely over to me, her eyes darting between me and the motorcycle.
“We can take the truck?”
She shakes her head. “No. I want to go on the motorcycle.”
I open the jacket for her. “Whose is this?” she asks.
I cock a brow. “Does it matter?”
Her lips pinch. “Yes, it does.”
“It’s your sister’s.”
She nods, as if confirming that she will wear it. She slips her arms in it, and I pass her the helmet.
“It’s your sister’s too,” I say before she questions it.
She slips it on over her head and tightens the straps. I climb on my motorcycle and stare at her. She somehow looks better than I imagined she would look like dressed in leather.
“Hop on.”
She hesitates before placing her hand on my shoulder and climbing on. I lean down and point to the foot peg.
“Put your feet on the pegs and wrap your arms around my midsection.” Her arms come around me loosely. “Tighter.”
“What?” she asks.
I’m not sure if she doesn’t understand or if she’s frightened. I pull both her arms around me tighter and gently tug her calves toward me so she’s flush against my back, and she lets out a small laugh. “I can’t have you falling off.”
Her grip around me tightens further, making me grin. I make no apologies for how turned on I am right now.
The motorcycle roars to life when I put the key in the ignition. I pull forward slowly, trying not to scare her. We go onto the dirt road, slightly bumpy from the rocks, but when we reach the asphalt, I speed up. She laughs. I fucking love it.
“Faster,” she says from behind me, so I speed up. She squeals louder.
