One corner of his mouth ticks up. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s close. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?”
I blink at the non-sequitur. “What?”
“I asked if you’ve ever ridden a motorcycle. Specifically, on the back of one.”
“No.” The word comes out breathless. Anticipation sparks in my chest.
“Do you want to go for a ride with me?”
I chew my bottom lip. “Is it safe?”
“Mostly.” He shrugs those massive shoulders. “It’s a vehicle, Sunshine. Accidents happen. But I’m a damn good rider. I’ll keep you safe.”
The confidence in his voice does something to me. Something warm and liquid pools low in my belly.
Haven’t I already been trusting him with my safety? What’s one more leap?
“Okay.” I exhale slowly. “Let’s go for a ride.”
I follow him into the garage, and my eyes go wide.
Three motorcycles. Two are in various states of repair. One is missing a front wheel. Another has its fuel tank sitting on newspaper, freshly painted a deep, gleaming blue. But the third one...
The third one is a beast. Black with flames licking across the gas tank. A trunk box behind the passenger seat. Saddlebags on each side. The wordHarleygleams on the tank.
It’s massive.
And kind of sexy.
“Wow,” I murmur.
“She’s a beaut, right?” Pride colors his voice in a way I haven’t heard before.
“She?”
“It’s always a she. Bikes, boats, cars. Doesn’t matter. It’s a she.”
“Have you named her?”
He scoffs. “Of course not.”
I bite back a smile. “Silly me.”
Matteo grabs a box from the bed of his truck and sets it on the concrete. When he opens it, I see a flash of bright pink.
He pulls out a helmet.
“I had to guess on the size,” he says. “Figured you’d be a medium.”
“You bought this for me?” My throat feels tight.
“I don’t want you to ever ride without one.”
He moves closer, and my pulse kicks up as he settles the helmet on my head. His fingers brush against my jaw as he secures the strap under my chin. There’s nothing sexual about the touch, but my body doesn’t care. Heat blooms across my skin anyway.
“Good fit,” he murmurs, stepping back.
I fidget with the strap. “Where’s yours?”
