“I’ll have breakfast at the inn,” I say, not wanting to stress him out with additional stops if he needs to go to work.
His mouth twists down. “Mrs. Applewood is probably wondering where you are.”
“She does seem to keep tabs on everyone.” I take the mug of coffee Declan hands me, inhaling the dark brew for a second, then taking a sip. Notes of caramel and milk chocolate linger on my tongue. “Do you have cream?”
He ducks his head into the refrigerator, pulls out a red container and checks the date before handing it to me. “It should be good.”
“What a ringing endorsement,” I tease, unscrewing the cap and giving it a sniff before pouring it in my mug.
He hands me a spoon, and I stir in the cream then take another sip. “Mmm, perfect.”
“You all right?” he asks, concern darkening his handsome face.
“Feeling a little gross climbing into my dirty clothes.” I pluck at my shirt, pulling it away from my chest.
His lips twist into a devilish grin. “I should’ve spent some time soaping you up in the shower.”
“I would’ve liked that.” I step closer, heat from his body washing over me. The band twisting from wrist to elbow tingles. “For future reference, next time I prefer to be woken up with more kissing and snuggling, and less ‘claimed by the Rider’ talk.”
Pain flashes in his eyes, lingering long enough to make me wish I hadn’t joked about something he takes so seriously, but then the corner of his mouth quirks. “So, you’re saying there’ll be a next time?”
“It sounds like we’re…bound now?” I raise my eyebrows, punctuating the question.
His gaze shifts to the side and he nods.
I sip my coffee again. “You really think a video about the results of my investigation could make everything worse?”
“I don’t think,” he says with quiet authority. “I know.”
“I wouldn’t post it until I’m home. Far away from…here.” Why does the thought of leaving Crowsbridge Hollow bother me so much now?
No, not leaving the Hollow. LeavingDeclan. Big difference.
I drop my gaze to the green band glowing around my wrist. Is that why I feel this deeper connection to him now? Or is it the fantastic orgasm he gave me without asking for anything in return?
Maybe a little of both.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Emery
Declan’s motorcyclewaits for us right where we left it last night, glistening with morning dew. The long driveway to the house disappears into pale morning fog. Nothing but trees and emptiness surround us.
“Next time, I’ll give you a tour around the property.” Declan hands me the extra helmet he took out of a closet on our way out.
He swings his leg over the bike, steady and controlled, the move even sexier in the daylight. “Remember how to get on?” he asks.
“I’m not a total moron,” I grumble, clutching his shoulder and lifting myself onto the bike.
Still holding onto his shoulder, I settle in behind him. He rests his hand over mine. “I know you’re not a moron, Emery. But I’m aware you’re not used to riding.”
Feeling sheepish, I mutter, “Thanks.”
The engine roars to life, deep and rough, echoing through the trees.
“Hold on,” he urges.
I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. Laughter rumbles through him and he pats my hand. The fog wrapsaround us as we ride through the twisty roads. The wet, earthy scent of leaves mixed with woodsmoke fills my nose.
