“Motown—”
“Matthew.My name’s Matthew Hockley.My brothers call me Motown because of my taste in music.It’s my road name, and that’s what I’m known as to everyone.When it’s just you and me, I’m Matthew.Okay?”
“Matthew,” she says, looking up at me with wide eyes, and her lips slightly parted.I could kiss her, but I know it’s too soon.I need to ease us back to where we started.
“Let me take you out for a ride.We’ll go slow,” I urge.
“A ride.Where?”
“Anywhere.”
I let her go, then take her by the hand and lead her back through the shop.I make sure the place is locked up tight.She’s quiet, but doesn’t ask me to leave, and when we lock the front door, she places her hand in mine as we walk toward my motorcycle.
Tessa
I must be crazy to let Motown back into my life, but I believe him.We walk hand in hand to his motorcycle.It’s parked right next to my car.I try to let go of his hand, but he only holds on to it tighter.
“Get on, babe,” Motown says.
“I can’t get on your motorcycle.I’ve never ridden before.”I look down at my flowy dress.“I’m not dressed for it.”
“I’ll follow you home.You can get changed, and then we can go for our ride,” he says.He opens my door and waits for me to pull out of the lot, then follows me back to my home.Once we’re back at the house, Motown stands at the front entrance.“I’ll wait for you here.”He sounds nervous.
“Motown, please come in,” I say.
He steps inside, and I smile.He’s always been so sure of himself.It’s strange to see him so tentative.
He furrows his brow.“That’s not a good idea, Tess.”
“Why not?”
“I like being here.Too much.”I stare at him, confused.He adds, “We’re slowing things down, and if I come in, I’m not going to want to leave.”
This takes a moment to sink in.The thing is, I like Motown in my house.He wants to slow things down for my sake.It’s sweet.I knew he could be sweet.That night he drove me home, I found out he was funny and really smart, but not pretentiously so.He has plenty of life experience, and he sees people for what they really are.
“Okay.I’ll just be a minute,” I tell him, then hurry to my bedroom, feeling his eyes on me as I go.I quickly change into a pair of jeans and a baby-pink T-shirt.I grab a hair tie and pull my hair back into a ponytail, then slip on my sneakers.
“Don’t forget a jacket,” I hear Motown call out.I nab a jean jacket out of my closet and come back out to see him in the exact spot I left him.
His lips curve into a smile.“You get more beautiful every time I see you,” he says.I want to race into his arms and kiss him.I crave the feel of his whiskers and his lips moving over mine.The kiss today reminded me of how good his mouth felt on mine.
Heat rushes to my cheeks.“Thank you,” I say shyly.
He leads me back to his bike and hands me a helmet.He helps me secure it in place, then gets on the bike before guiding me on behind him.“Gotta hold on tight,” he says, then links my fingers together after wrapping my arms around his waist.“We’ll go slow.If it’s too much, tap my arm, and we’ll slow down and stop for a while.”
He revs the engine to life, and a surge of excitement pierces me.I’ve never considered riding a motorcycle.My adrenaline is pumping, and when Motown pulls out and we’re moving down the street, out onto the road, I think I’m addicted.Or maybe it’s because I’m pressed tight to Motown, holding him close, and I can feel the warmth of his body.Whatever the reason, I think I could do this for hours.
We ride along country roads and around a lake.It’s dark, but the moon shines bright and reflects on the water.All is still around us.The peaceful quietness surrounds us.Eventually, we make our way back to my house.
“How’d you like your first ride?”he asks as he walks me to my front door.
“It was amazing!Can we do that again?”
He chuckles.“Yeah, that’s how I felt after my first ride.It took me two years before I could build a bike for myself, but once I had it, I was on the road as much as I could be.”
“You built that bike?”I ask in amazement, looking over at the beautiful machine.
“Not that one.I bought that one but made modifications to suit me.I still have my first bike.It’s old, worn, but it still purrs when I start it.I should have gotten rid of it years ago, but it reminds me that I can do whatever I set my mind to.”
