Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Luckily he didn’t reply, and I was thankful—thankful that I’d get a reprieve in telling him about my episodes.
Once he’d gotten my purse into the bags, he got onto the bike and offered me his hand.
I took it, my smooth palm fitting easily into his rough one.
His hands were callused, and I thought maybe a scar covered his hand, but I wasn’t sure.
My fingers grasped his tightly as I mounted the bike behind him, suddenly extremely nervous.
“You got her a helmet, right?” Ridley broke in, drawing my attention.
“Yeah,” Apple rumbled. “Here.”
I took the helmet from him.
It was plain black, and I smiled.
I was happy he didn’t buy me anything girly.
I didn’t do pink or purple.
Black was my color, and I would probably self-destruct if I had to put anything sparkly or pink on.
“Thanks,” I murmured softly.
I pushed it onto my head, grimacing when my hair was pushed down.
“Damn,” I muttered.
“What?” Apple asked.
“I curled it. It’s gonna look like shit once we get where we’re going,” I groaned.
He laughed then.
I felt the rumble of it through to my core.
“Scoot closer,” he ordered.
I did, moving until I was plastered to his back.
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
I couldn’t wait to feel his skin under me again.
“Wrap your arms around my belly,” he instructed.
I did, bringing them to rest just under his ribcage and linking my fingers.
He chuckled, which made his belly contract.
“You don’t have to do it so formally, darlin’,” he informed me. “Just put it right here.”
He moved my hands down until they were resting against his belly.
And I felt the imprint of his gun, the metal one, not the flesh one.
I hadn’t realized that he conceal carried.
But I guess he was a game warden and all. No man I’d ever seen would willingly trudge in after armed hunters without one.
I knew my brother carried everywhere he went since it was not against the law for a Licensed Enforcement Officer to carry concealed, but it’d never occurred to me that Apple would.
“Ready?” He rumbled, patting the outside of my thigh, jarring me out of the contemplation of his gun.
“Yes,” I squeezed him tighter.
I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice.
Honestly, Ridley was freaked way the hell out about taking me out on his bike.
What if I fell? What if I had a seizure, and he didn’t know until I was on the ground eating pavement? What if some girl thought I was his woman?
Okay, that last part wasn’t likely to happen.
Ridley was still caught up in his love for his wife and, honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
His wife, Aerie, had been a good woman.
And I missed her dearly.
But my hurt was nothing compared to what Ridley felt.
Apple started his bike, bringing me back to the present time and out of Ridley’s nightmares, with a sharp jolt.
Apple obviously thought he’d scared me with the loudness of his engine, but honestly, that was nothing new to me.
I was around bikes a lot, even though I never rode on them. I’d even ridden on his bike to his house on our first date. Though, I did have to admit it was only about forty seconds there, and forty seconds back.
I let him have his illusions, though, and tightened my hold on his belly.
It was uncomfortable with his gun there, so I lowered my hands until they were resting on his lap, leaning so far forward that I practically lay against him.
When he didn’t protest, I stayed where I was and squealed slightly when he started off.
He laughed and motored in the direction of the interstate.
I looked to the back of me only once to see Ridley, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement.
I blew him a kiss, one in which I knew he could see due to the headlight shining in my eyes.
I could practically feel the eye roll he sent my way.
Turning back around, I pressed myself closer to Apple and settled in to enjoy my ride.
In fact, I enjoyed it for a long time…until I didn’t.
I hadn’t realized that riding for such long periods of time would make me feel so sore, but by the time we’d stopped for the last time at a hotel about six hours from Arizona, I was near exhausted.
In fact, I was definitely at the stage of ‘never wanting to get on that bike again.’
Annie, Mig’s wife, looked over at me in commiseration as I finally put both feet on the ground for the first time in hours.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked, rubbing her sore backside.
I laughed shortly.
“You could say that,” I said as I walked bowlegged, completely ignoring the fact that I had a bag and a purse in Apple’s saddle bags.
As much as I enjoyed being pressed up against him for the whole day, I decided that the next time we went out together, I’d make sure it was a shorter ride than twelve hours.