“How long is the direct ride?”
“Ten minutes or so.”
“Let’s go scenic, then.”
“If you’re sure.” He straddles the bike and then punches it to life. The vibrations of the exhaust notes rattle through my chest, and I take a small breath to steady myself. Like so much else in this town, the sound brings back many memories. “When you’re ready.”
I take note of where the foot pegs are for me, and then wrestle myself into position behind him. There’s no sissy bar for me to lean on, barely a seat. A part of me hopes this means he doesn’t often have passengers. Another part of me wishes I didn’t feel as though I’m about to slip right off the back when he takes off.
“Holding on?” He asks, knowing damn well the only thing touching him is the inside of my thighs.
“Sure.” I find purchase on the braided sides of his cut and get a firm grip.
He pulls out into the road, and it’s instant relief. There’s no expectation for me other than to sit my ass on the damn thing and hold on. It’s a kind of escape. A freedom I didn’t expect.
The scenery slides by, and neither of us speaks as we leave Temperance township and head into the rural areas. I tilt my head back and watch the tree branches as they zoom overhead, the low-light dappled through their darkening boughs. The early-evening air chills my exposed skin, but I kind of like it.
It’s refreshing. Invigorating.
“You doing okay back there?” Jinx tears me back to the present.
I realize my hands have slipped to the front of his ribs, pressing hard as I cling to him. “I’m good.”
He doesn’t ask anything more, lifting his left hand from the bars as we hit an open stretch of straight road. Jinx sets his hand to his thigh, straightening in the seat a little, and the movement straps my hand to his side beneath his forearm.
I stiffen.
He shifts his hand to mine. “Relax.”
“How?” I chuckle. “I feel like everything I do might get taken the wrong way.”
“Or is it the right way?” He releases his hold, putting his hand back to the bar. “You need to stop overthinking everything you do.”
“Easier said than done.” I’ve tried. And failed. For years.
“Did you overanalyze everything this much with your channel?”
I chuckle. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Oh, I believe,” he rumbles, doing strange things to me.
We turn onto a road I’m more familiar with, the direction starting to make sense. “I thought you weren’t taking me near your club?”
“I never said that.”
Damn it.He didn’t, either.
“I’m taking you past the club,” he reassures me. “You don’t have to stress about how you look because if I’ve planned this right, nobody should see you.”
“Right…” Believe that when it happens.
We continue until the paved road becomes dirt, dust kicking up in a rooster tail behind us. The trees along the roadside break away, and the cottage on our right boasts a beautiful garden out front filled with all manner of plants in different textures and colors.
“Oh, wow.” I turn my head to admire the work as we go by. “Last time I saw that place, it was so run down.”
“Vanessa lives there now.” Jinx slows the bike. “She fixed it up before we got here.”
There’s no need to ask where the club is based now. Little people-shaped specks are visible in the yard and on the porch of the old farmhouse, and a few bikes are dotted across the yard. A huge, modern barn comes into view behind the homestead.
