Page 57 of Off Limits Mogul

“Let’s make a day of it,” he says.

As if I’ll say no to riding behind Rhys with my arms wrapped around his body, absorbing his warmth with my chest pressed against his back.

“God, this view… even under the blanket of gray sky, it’s unbelievable.” I place a hand on my forehead and get on my tiptoes to soak in the beauty Mother Nature bestowed upon us Californians.

“It never gets old,” Rhys says.

“No, it doesn’t.”

We’re standing on the top of the world.

Okay, I’m exaggerating a little bit.

The ride from Manhattan Beach was stop and go. After an hour straddling a bike, Rhys needed a break to stretch his long legs. I was dying to use the bathroom. We stopped by King of the Sea for lunch. Fish and chip shops are a dime a dozen in London, but none of those eateries come close to this place. It’sa quiet, quaint restaurant perched in a small alcove in the hills with a view to kill.

After a lip-smacking lunch, we stopped by O’Dwyer’s Fine Ice Creams for dessert. Armed with a small cooler bag filled with ice packs and pints of ice cream, we decided to stop at one of the many rest stops along the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu to enjoy our sugary treats.

I turn to face Rhys. “I can’t believe I was able to live without this for three long years.”

“It’s good to be back?”

Say what you may about this state or this city, but good luck finding anything as breathtaking as this million-dollar view stretching as far as the eye can see anywhere else in the country.

“It’s fucking good to be back.”

“Good.” He offers a warm smile. “I’m ready for dessert. Let’s go sit on the blanket.”

There are people hanging out, but they’re far enough away to give us some semblance of privacy.

“You’ve thought of everything,” I say. I remove my armored motorcycle jacket and lower myself until I’m sitting on my knees. He takes a seat next to me. “Do you come here often with…”—I hesitate, pulling my lower lip between my teeth—“your girlfriends.” I swallow the lump in my throat and avert my gaze.

“You have the balls to ask the question, but not enough bravado to look me in the eyes when you do?”

I’m sure my face is as red as a tomato when I muster up the courage to meet his gaze.

“Do you?” My question comes out sounding like a croak.

He arches an eyebrow. “What’s up with this new fascination with my love-life, Cocoa Puffs?”

“You’re right. Ice cream first,” Isay with a grin.

“You can be such a brat, Keira.” He shakes his head.

“You still love me, though.”

He holds my gaze, and I shiver.

I can’t read his expression.

I’ve teased him like this a million times in the past, but for some reason this feels different.

“You’re lucky I’ve known you since you were in diapers,” he says.

Not quite the answer I was hoping for.

He unzips the cooler bag and pulls out three pints and two plastic spoons. I got the Euro Praline Kick. It’s the perfect blend of roasted hazelnut ice cream, Gianduja chocolate sprinkles, and French Valrhona Caramelia Pearls. Rhys opted for the Malted Crunch––dark Belgian chocolate sprinkles and crunchy malted milk balls. We also got a must have––Nothing Boring About It, dubbed the best vanilla ice cream ever.

I dig into my ice cream and shove a heaping spoonful into my mouth.