Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Stupid heels,” she murmurs, taking slower steps. “Dumb choice, I know.”
“You look nice.” The urge to slide my hand over hers strikes me and I release her as fast as I’d toss a lit match. What’s wrong with me? This isn’t the time or place for a hand-in-hand stroll. Even if it was, she’s not the woman I should be walking with.
“Thank you.”
My bike’s parked at the end of the row and she quickens her steps as it comes into view.
“How far away is your car?” I ask.
“Over there.” She points, and in the distance I make out a dark red sedan parked half on the grass, half on the gravel. The only other vehicle in the area. “Do you want to meet me?” She nods to my bike.
That would make more sense, but she almost fell once. I scuff my boot against the hard-packed dirt and gravel path. Hate to see her twist an ankle on the uneven ground. And I’d ask Rock to strip my road captain patch if I let her ride on the back of my bike the way she’s dressed—even a short distance.
“No, I’ll come back and get it.”
“I really am sorry I interrupted you.” She ducks her head and powers forward.
“It’s fine. Cell service sucks out here.”
She lets out a nervous chuckle. “It does.”
As we approach the car, I catalog its details. It’s an older model but probably still not something I can easily repair. I carry a bare minimum of tools with me. Enough for a quick fix of my bike and that’s about it.
“Can you pop the hood?” I ask.
“Sure.” She dips inside the car and pulls the lever.
I prop the hood up and study the engine. Nothing obvious sticks out.
Something brushes against my side, and I glance down. Emily’s standing next to me, hands on her hips, staring at the car like she’s ready to roll up her sleeves and assist.
Cute. The corners of my mouth turn up.
“Is it terminal?” She peers up at me with wide, serious eyes. Are they green? Brown? Some sort of in-between?
Doesn’t matter.
“I’m not sure yet,” I reply. “Why don’t you try to turn it over for me, so I can see what it does.”
Her anxious gaze darts to the open driver’s-side door.
“You in a hurry?”
“I’m late for work,” she admits.
“I’d give you a ride”—I nod to her dress and heels— “but you can’t get on a motorcycle like that.”
She stares down at her dress and fists her hands in the material, swinging the long skirt around. “Why not? In the movies it would just flutter in the wind behind me.” She flaps her hands in the air to punctuate her sentence.
I snort with laughter. “This isn’t the movies, sweetheart. You could get all that loose fabric caught in the rear wheel.” The smile slides off my face. “Knew a couple who thought it’d be fun to ride off into the sunset on their wedding day. Dress tangled, bike crashed, neither of them made it.”
Her jaw drops and she stares up at me. “Well. Aren’t you full of cheerful tales.”
That was a bit much. Why’d I have to bring up something so awful?
“Can’t help it.” I tap the road captain patch stitched onto my cut. “Safety first.”
“Good to know.” Her eyes stray to the car again. “What if I swap the dress for pants?”
“Are you Superwoman? Ready to change into your cape in an emergency?” I was aiming for a teasing tone to make up for the wedding horror story but my words come out more accusatory than amusing.
“Hardly.” She frowns, then rolls her eyes. “I work in a lab. I keep extra clothes in my car in case I get chemicals or something on me.”
“Smart.”
“Thanks.” Sarcasm creeps into her words.
“I didn’t mean it—”
“It’s fine.” She holds up her hand. “Promise not to look.”
“At what?”
“Me. While I change.” She hurries to the car and pulls a bag from the back seat. “Although, could you come stand here and maybe give me some cover? I think it’d be rude if I flashed my butt to all the dead folks.”
“I doubt they’ll mind.” But I walk over and stand between the two open car doors, doing my best to form a fourth wall for her makeshift changing room.
“You have such nice, broad shoulders,” she murmurs behind me.
I resist the urge to turn around. “Uh, thank you.”
Her elbow pokes into my back and she mutters an apology. Fabric rustles. A stronger whiff of warm vanilla tickles my nose. Her dress hits my arm, then flops over the car door. I turn slightly. In the side mirror, I catch a flicker of bare skin hidden under black lace.
Fuck.
I tear my gaze away and aim it at the trees in front of me. I manage a strip joint, for fuck’s sake. Naked skin doesn’t hold much interest for me anymore. No need to creep on a friend of the club when I can go to work and see all the lace-covered tits my heart desires.