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The two men talk, and the car shakes once or twice, but I can’t understand what they’re saying. It’s not long before Chainz is closing the hood and getting back on his bike while Blaze comes over to my window.
“Looks like you’ve got a couple of issues.” I appreciate Blaze getting right to the point. I focus on the issues of the car and not how attractive he is wiping grease off his hands with a handkerchief. “Water reservoir is shot, and it looks like your radiator blew. On top of that, I’d guess it’s been a few months since you changed the oil?”
My lips pinch and irritation makes me frown, but Blaze seems to take it as being embarrassed, so I’m quick to come up with something.
“It’s a friend’s car, owed me a favor.” I’ll stick as close to the truth as I can. “Guess I should have made sure it was up for a long trip before taking it.”
Blaze watches me and nods before stepping back and gestures to his bike. “Why don’t I give you a ride into town, then Chainz here will come back for the car tomorrow. He doesn’t like working on his day off.”
I freeze, thinking the offer through. The car is dead in the water, so if I don’t take him up on it, I’m stuck here.
A bead of sweat rolls down my temple. The temperature is climbing with the sun and I’ve got maybe half a water bottle left. Blaze said the town is twelve miles away, and I’m wearing worn ballet flats, black leggings, and a white tank. With my skin, I’ll be burned red as a lobster within half an hour.
But if I take him up on the offer, I’ll be heading off with two strangers—men who look more than plenty familiar with the guns they carry.
My mom always taught me to trust my gut. The only time hers ever failed her was when she thought the pain in her side was nothing. By the time they caught the cancer, it was too late.
I study Blaze, who’s as still as a statue even with the sun blazing down on him, and consider my gut. It’d warned me Enzo was too good to be true, but I’d ignored it. Look where that got me. Taking in Blaze, my gut tells me he’s safe... for now. There’s something different about him, something I can’t quite pin point. I figure a man like him must have as many secrets as he does tattoos.
Looking ahead, the strip of asphalt extends unbroken towards the far mountains with heat waves intensifying by the second. It won’t be long before the temperature hits triple digits.
Daddy taught me to not be stupid.
Decision made, I grab the keys. “Let me roll up the windows.”
“Don’t bother,” Blaze says, his words giving pause to my hands. “No one around here messes vehicles. If you’re worried, just make sure you have everything.”
Frowning but not bothering to argue, I reach in back for my bag. It’s not like the car had anything in it before I took it, and if there are as many issues with it as Blaze says, I don’t have enough to fix it. Maybe the town has someone I can sell or trade it to. Then, soon as I’ve got a new car, I’ll be on my way again.
I tuck the gun in my bag before tugging it over my shoulder. I absolutely do not think about the wedding ring buried at the bottom.
Blaze opens the door for me as I grab the handle, and I glare at him. He backs off with a grin and walks to his bike. To distract myself from the view of his great ass, I close and lock the door, waiting for it to beep before heading to the two bikers waiting for me.
Chainz is already on his bike, the engine rumbling, as he watches us with an expression I can’t read. Blaze throws his leg over his own bike, which I’m seeing is much bigger than I’d thought now that I’m next to it. When Blaze looks over at me, I shift my weight between my feet, jump when the engine roars to life.
“I’ve never ridden before,” I confess with a yell, hating my insecurity in the face of his easy confidence.
“It doesn’t bite,” he yells back, his voice teasing. He holds out a hand. “Come on, I’ll show you where to put your feet.”
A white blur edges into my periphery and I see another trucker approaching from the direction from which I’d come. It’s somebody who might know what I’ve done. Somebody answering the bounty on my head. I grab ahold of Blaze’s hand and awkwardly swing my leg over the seat. I yelp when he grips my calf with his other hand, making him laugh.
“Foot here,” he instructs and I look down to see him guiding me to a smaller peg than the one further in front. “Same on the other side.”
“What do I hold on to?” I ask lamely and he looks over his shoulder at me.
“Me.”
I tentatively put my hands on the tops of his shoulders, and he makes a gruff sound. Then he reaches behind me, his arms long enough to grab the top of my ass, and hauls me tight up against him. Before I can protest that, he’s moving my hands off his shoulders and around his massive waist.
I haven’t been this close to a man other than Enzo for years, even before meeting Enzo.
The top of my head doesn’t reach his shoulders, and I can barely touch my fingertips together on his stomach.
He uses his foot to move up the kickstand and without warning, we roar onto the road just in front of the semi-truck. Chainz falls in beside us. The acceleration pulls a squeal out of me and I cling to Blaze’s back, pressing my face against his leather vest. From the sharp, rhythmic movements of his hard stomach, I guess he’s laughing at me.
We outpace the trucker quickly and the wind makes the harsh sun easy on my bare shoulders. Like this, all I can smell is the arid desert, clean leather, a hint of sulfur—like a lit match—and something purely masculine.
This is not the time to get a crush, Kennedy Claire. One night and one day to get the car traded in for something else. Then I’m leaving, leaving this town and this dangerously handsome biker behind.
