I squirm in my seat at his closeness. “I’m Hope.”
“Hope… Beautiful name for a gorgeous woman.” He smirks. “Well, Hope, I’m glad I could be your… How’d ya put it, ‘knight in leather armor’, but I should let you get back to work.”
Frost turns away once more. I reach out and lightly touch his arm before I can second-guess myself. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee… You know, to say thank you for saving me from that douche canoe?”
Frost throws his head back, laughing. “Did you say ‘douche canoe’?”
I nod. “I would’ve called him a fucking douche canoe, but I didn’t want to offend you with my language.”
“Darling, I’m a biker,” he explains. “Nothing offends me.”
“So can I buy you a coffee?”
He shakes his head. My shoulders drop in defeat. “My mama raised me better than to let a woman pay for my drink. I’d like to buy you another, though.” He gestures toward my empty cup.
Don’t freak out, don’t freak out!
“And they say chivalry is dead,” I mutter.
“What was that?”
“Your mom sounds like a very smart woman.” I give him one of my mega-watt smiles. “Peppermint mocha, please.”
His eyes sadden for such a brief moment that I barely catch it.
Wonder what that was about? Maybe I imagined it.
“Coming right up, Hope.” He drops his helmet and gloves in the seat Travis vacated before heading to the cash register.
I show restraint and resist the urge to fan myself. That man could melt butter with that voice.
Now, to play it cool, Hope. Play itcool.This is an excellent setup for a new novel. A biker walks into a coffee shop… saves a writer from a jerk, orders her favorite drink. It kind of writes itself.
Too bad romance like this only happens in books. Frost, because of course his name would be Frost, will drink his coffee, nod politely, and disappear before I can even thank him properly. Oh well, I’ll enjoy the eye candy while I can and then dive back into my fictional world.
I close the lid on my laptop, brushing my fingers over the smooth cover like it's a sleeping baby. “I’ll be back soon, boys,” I whisper to my fictional characters. “Right now, I’m gonna live in the real world.”
CHAPTER 2
FROST
“Can I help the next person, please?”
The line at the counter is about as short as my patience right now. My pulse is still racing from watching that asshole inviting himself to her table like he owned the place. I don’t like to get involved in strangers’ business, but the look on her face… I studied that tight smile, steady voice, and watched while her fingers hovered over the keyboard like it was a lifeline. Yeah. Couldn’t walk away from that.
I glance back at her and see that she has a serene look on her face as if all the stress in the last few minutes has evaporated. Hope’s chestnut hair falls in soft waves down the middle of her back, and the string lights from the window reflect off her long tresses. Bright hazel eyes dart around the café like she’s cataloging every detail. Pretty doesn’t begin to cover it. She’s?—
No. Don’t go there. Not today.
The barista clears her throat, interrupting my thoughts. “What can I get you?”
“Black coffee and a peppermint mocha.”
She punches it in. I tap my card and step back, rolling my shoulders. I should be on the road already. The shop sits on the corner of a main intersection as you head out of Spring Valley. Ionly stopped because the cold was sinking into my bones. I need a pick me up before I land in Saint’s Outlaws territory in Nevada.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her. She’s not the type of woman who deserves someone who can’t get their head on straight and bounces from town to town. Hope’s the kind of woman that deserves the world, permanency. Something I can’t give any female at the moment, maybe never. The way she looked at me with those big, innocent eyes? Yeah. She’s more than one-night stand material.
“You can be that man,” Mom whispers to me.
