Holy fuck.
I’d just caught sight of gorgeous motorcycle-riding god when a minivan ran the red light and damn near plowed into the guy.
He hit the brakes, almost went ass-over-teakettle, and somehow kept control. He went off the road and mounted a grassy embankment. After a long moment, he eased his bike to the ground, stepped away, and started shaking his fist at the retreating minivan.
Rodney Saunders glanced back to the intersection he’d just blown through. He saw me and winced as he sped by.
Little shit.
Setting aside my desire to hit speed dial and warn emergency dispatch, I was more concerned about the rider. After ensuring the intersection was clear, I headed across it and pulled onto the shoulder.
Several cars shot past me, going way too fast.
Once I confirmed I was safe to proceed, I hopped out of my truck and rounded the hood of my truck. “Hey, man, are you okay?”
"Yeah, man. Fine. Wow, that was close..." He took off his helmet and inhaled deeply—clearly trying to get his breath back.
My breath caught. Not just from the near-miss—although that definitely contributed to the lack of oxygen to my brain. Evenmore, though, was the beauty of the man before me. After nearly swallowing my tongue, I managed, “Are you sure you're okay?”
Then, as if seeing me for the first time, he met my gaze. “I am. Truly. Thanks for stopping.”
“Never would’ve considered doing anything else.” I held up my hand, and with the other one, yanked out my phone. I hit Seth’s number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Finn, to what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you were—”
“Rodney Saunders is illegally driving his mom’s minivan. He blew through a red light at Keystone and nearly hit a motorcyclist on the highway. The guy’s okay, but Rodney was hightailing it toward Mission City—”
“On it. I’ll get a statement later. Burgundy, right?”
“Yep.”
He hung up without even signing off. Not that I’d expected him to. He had work to do. Hell, I didn’t even know if he was on duty tonight. Even if he was enjoying a rare night off, he’d be working with dispatch to alert on-duty cops.
I let out a long breath. “Okay. Sorry about that.”
He offered a sardonic smile. “You’re alerting the cops? I don’t have a problem with that.” He tapped his helmet to his thigh. “You know, despite the danger of crotch rockets, I never thought that would be the way I died. I mean, that would've been a really sucky way to die. I always envisioned it would be different—like saving a toddler in a house fire before succumbing. You know, like, heroic?”
I grinned. “Nah—leave that shit to me.”
“Oh.” He gave me a once-over.
He was tall—about six feet, but I was taller at just a touch over six three.
“You’re, uh…” He scratched his chin.
“A fireman. Yeah. Mission City born and bred. I studied firefighting at the Justice Institute after I finished my Bachelor in Electrical Engineering at BCIT. I always wanted to be a firefighter, but my mom said I had to get a degree first, and that was way more than you needed to know.” I could’ve told him how much I adored my mom. How, as a single parent, she’d worked hard to raise me right. How I always wanted to make her proud.
How, upon witnessing my graduation from the JI, she’d said exactly that.
“I like your mother’s reasoning.”
“Yeah.” I ground my toes into the grass. “You sure you're okay? You can come back to my house if you need to recover some more...”Holy hell, did I just proposition the guy? No…I did the neighborly thing and invited him back to my place so I could properly check him out. Wouldn’t want to bother the doctor at the hospital when I can…What? Do as good a job?
Except he really did look okay.
“When a cute guy like you invites me to his place, it's usually not for me to recover.” He smirked.
