Page 29 of Holley Jolly Biker

I looked down at her as I opened her door, “Cause it’s a full moon out tonight. Crazies come out. Not riskin’ somethin’ happenin’ to you. Not when you have someone who depends on you.”

I didn’t miss that smile.

No, I sure as fuck didn’t.

After I helped her up in my truck, I closed the door and then rounded the hood.

Once I was in and made sure she was buckled up, I started the truck and then reversed out by placing my hand on the back of her headrest.

I also didn’t miss the side eye she gave my forearm that was covered in tattoos, nor the way she licked her bottom lip and then realized she had done so.

Oh, this woman.

Good tunes were playing on the radio when she asked, “So, where are we going?”

I looked at her as I came to a stop light.

“Tonight is based on trust. See it buildin’ between us. Trustin’ my gut. Need you to do the same, yeah?”

She took in a breath, then nodded.

Her fingers were dancing to the rhythm on the center console, and since I’d been trusting my gut for twenty-three years of my life, I was trusting it with this, too.

Sliding my hand over, I captured hers and laced our fingers together.

I caught her biting the left side of her bottom lip as she smiled a small smile at the same time.

It took us another ten minutes to reach my house.

And by the time we pulled into the driveway, I saw her mouth drop open.

I chuckled, which had her eyes going directly to me, when she asked, “Where are we?”

I winked, “My house.”

She gasped, “Your house? You mean to tell me that you live in an old Victorian-style home?”

I laughed, “Hey, that ain’t fair, mon coeur.”

She smiled, “That was pretty. What was it?”

I winked at her, “Tell you later.”

And with that, I climbed out of my truck, walked around to her side, and helped her down.

Hand in hand, we walked up the front steps.

Once I had the door open, I said, “Go explore. Nothin’ is off limits to you. I’ll be in the kitchen or the back deck.”

Following my gut, I did just that, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.

It was almost an hour later when the French doors to the back deck opened, and she said, “Now I feel bad. I fell in love with your house and made you wait.”

I winked at her, then pulled a fresh beer for her out of the cooler and handed it to her after I popped the top off, “It’s fine. Had an inklin’ that would be the case, dinner kept.”

And with that, I moved to the grill and took the steaks, baked potatoes, and grilled asparagus, then I asked, “Any allergies?”

She shook her head, “No. Thank goodness.”