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“Sounds like we’ve got that in common,” I murmur, and the spark of attraction that’s been simmering beneath my skin flares to life at his nearness.
“Seems like it,” he agrees, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his features.
We stand there, and I realize with Texas, the weight of my own secrets feels lighter. As he reaches out, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear with a touch gentle enough to be a breeze, I know I want to dive into the stories etched in the lines of his face, to explore the shadows in his eyes.
“Come on,” he says, breaking the spell as he heads back to his motorcycle. “I’ll take you home.”
And as I follow him, climbing onto the bike behind him, I cling to the promise of sanctuary and the thrill of the unknown. With Texas, I might just find both.
* * *
The roar of the engine vibrates through me, a lullaby wrapped in leather and steel. Texas’s bike eats up the miles between the bridge and my place. I cling to him, the warmth of his back seeping into my chest, fighting off the chill of the night.
“Almost there, darlin’,” he calls over the rumble, his voice a steady drumbeat against the wind.
“Thanks, Tex,” I shout back, my words snatching at the air.
I’m grateful for the ride, but a part of me wishes the journey could stretch on forever, away from the dive bar and closer to something that feels like freedom. We pull up to my modest home and he kills the engine.
“Allow me.” Texas offers his hand to help me dismount. His touch is gentle, yet firm, and I can’t help but notice the contrast with his rugged appearance.
“Thank you.” I’m so tried my eyelids feel heavy.
They’re traitors, threatening to close after the day I’ve had—the constant clinking of glasses, the sneering faces of Ricky and Snake, their laughter still echoing in my mind like a bad joke without a punchline.
“Jane,” Texas begins, his voice a low hum that commands attention, “you sure you’re alright?”
“Fine,” I reply, too quickly perhaps. “Just tired.”
He walks me to the door, his presence beside me a solid reassurance. At my doorstep, he leans down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so chaste it almost feels like it didn’t happen. My skin tingles where his mouth was, a quiet plea for something deeper, but exhaustion tugs at my bones.
“Good night, Jane Everly,” he says, tipping an imaginary hat. “Dream sweet.”
“Night, Tex.” My voice is soft, wrapped in a sigh.
He turns, walking toward his motorcycle with a stride full of purpose, leaving me to wonder about the stories hidden beneath his inked skin and behind those intense blue eyes.
I lock the door behind me, stripping away the remnants of the day in a hot shower that fails to wash away the feel of Tex’s kiss. Crawling into bed, every muscle aches for rest, but my mind races, replaying that brief contact at the threshold of my doorway.
Tex becomes my last conscious thought as sleep overtakes me, his name a silent whisper in the dark.
* * *
Outside the bar, Texas waits. He’s a sentinel in denim and leather, leaning against the chrome and black of his motorcycle. His gaze is fixed, unwavering as patrons spill out onto the street, laughter and chatter trailing them like smoke.
But he’s not watching them. He’s watching for me.
His eyes catch mine as I step into the cool night air, and something unspoken passes between us—an acknowledgment, a tether pulled taut. I can’t read his thoughts, but I know he sees past the facade I wear.
“Evening, Tex,” I say, approaching him with a feigned nonchalance. His presence is a beacon, drawing me in despite the long day, despite the shadows that linger just out of sight.
“Evening, Jane,” he replies, his voice a slow drawl that wraps around my name like smoke around a flame. “Ready to head out?”
“Lead the way,” I respond, a playful challenge in my tone.
He offers no words as he helps me onto the bike and as we pull away from the bar, the night ahead unfurls like a dark ribbon, endless and mysterious.
The rumble of the motorcycle fades into a distant hum as we reach the outskirts of town. Our journey slows to a crawl as Tex guides the bike back to the covered bridge.
