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He stared at her for a second. “So?”
“What do you mean so?” She pointed towards the bicycles as if they were some dangerous pieces of equipment. “I haven’t ridden one in decades, Krish.”
That made him laugh.
“Wow. So the best agent of GLEN, the one who has taken down hardcore kingpins, drug lords and armed criminals is afraid of riding a bicycle?”
“Stop it.” Trisha’s eyes narrowed immediately. “I am not afraid.”
“Then?”
“I just don’t want to.”
“That’s a very convenient excuse.” His smile widened. “I never even imagined in my wildest dreams that there was something as basic as riding a bicycle that you apparently couldn’t do.”
She pushed him lightly on the shoulder. “Stop making fun of me.”
He laughed, completely unapologetic. “Next time, I’ll make sure GLEN assigns you a mission that involves chasing drug lords on bicycles.”
She shoved him again, harder this time.
“Krish!”
He laughed even harder. “I can already imagine what a disaster that would be.”
“You are impossible.”
She stared at him for another second. Then she walked towards the stand, pulled one bicycle free and adjusted the small sling bag hanging across her body before looking back at him.
“It might have been long time, but I can ride it better than you.”
Krish raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.”
He walked closer.
“You want to bet?” she challenged.
A slow smile curved his lips. “What are the stakes?”
Trisha placed one hand on the handlebar.
“Whoever wins gets to decide how we spend the next four days here.”
“Are you sure?” Krish laughed softly. “Because I know exactly who’s going to win. And trust me…” He moved closer, close enough for his breath to fan her lips. “I’ve got enough ideas about what I’ll make you do over the next four days, baby. You know how long I’ve been waiting to have my wife all to myself.” He briefly touched her hand. “Four days. No interruptions. This is no less than our second honeymoon.”
Trisha’s gaze dropped to his lips before she looked back into his eyes. She shook her head, trying not to smile.
“For that you’ll have to win first.” She settled onto the bicycle and tied her hair into a ponytail. “Win the bet first. Being confident is good, but being overconfident isn’t. Which, by the way, you always are.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, still grinning. “I know you are going to fall off after losing your balance within the first ten seconds.”
Her mouth fell open.
“But if you still want to bet and lose tonight, then fine.” He shrugged. “Let’s do it.”
He pulled out a bicycle beside hers. “First one to the cottage wins. That’s the finish line.”
