“You’re on your motorcycle.”
Yeah, and you love it.
“Problem?”
“I don’t have?—”
“I have everything you need. Let’s go, Juliet.”
I close the door and walk back to the bike. Seconds later, she opens her door, checks for traffic, then joins me, with her purse in her arms.
I stow her purse in my saddlebag, and set my helmet on her head.
“I know it’s too big, but it’ll keep you safe the rest of the way into town.”
“What about you?” She stares up at me as I adjust the chin strap. Christ, I haven’t been this close to her in so fucking long. Her skin is warm and smooth where my fingers brush her chin as I adjust the strap, and it makes my dick twitch.
“I’ll be fine.”
She frowns, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she says, “Please drive safely. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Fuck me.
“I always drive safely. I don’t have a leather jacket on me, and I’d feel better if you were wearing one.”
“I’m all out of leather jackets,” she says with a half smile. I eye her T-shirt and jeans. At least she’s not in shorts, but I’d rather she were wearing a coat of some sort to protect her arms.
Jesus, I’m going to drive ten miles an hour.
“Brooks, we’ll be fine.”
I nod once and climb on the bike, kick up the stand. Jules swings her leg over and settles in behind me, the way she always did, but she keeps a few inches between us and doesn’t seem to know what to do with her hands.
“Hold on to me, Jules.”
“But—”
“It’s fine. You have to hold on to me.”
Tentatively, and with shaky fingers, she wraps her arms around me and holds my stomach. Her breasts press against my back, and holy fucking shit, it’s like coming home for the first time in decades.
It’s like taking your first breath after coming up out of the water when you’ve almost drowned.
After starting the engine, I press my hand over hers.
“Hold on,” I remind her.
“I will,” she says.
When I look back at her, her blue eyes are big, and her cheeks are flushed. I know I’m not the only one feeling all this emotion.
As I take off, she yelps and then laughs with joy behind me, her hands clenching against my abs, and I can’t help but smile.
Jules always loved the bike.
I can see her in the side mirror, smiling, her face tilted up at the sun as she enjoys the wind blowing through her hair.
Christ, she’s beautiful.
