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“Oh my God, my dream has come true!” Marie says very loudly, and it startles me. I swing around and look at her once more.
Randall starts laughing at her and I soon join in because she has been determined for us to meet.
“Do you want to go?” Dante asks me, and I notice that Marie and Randall freeze.
“I do,” I answer, and I do even if I’m scared out of my mind.
I saw him walk inside and my first instinct was to hide and run because he is huge, along with intimidating. But he’s also impossible not to stare at.
New York Meghan would have avoided going on a date at all costs, but here in Texas I want to be different.
I want to live, and I made a promise when I started over that I was going to really try to live.
So that means I am going on a date with a hot as hell guy that shouldn’t even be looking my way.
But the smile on his face when I said I wanted to go was cute. He tightens his hand in mine and leads me out of the diner and right outside the door is a motorcycle. The other vehicle is my car that finally died days after I first arrived here in Texas.
But I didn’t care.
I had a home, a home that I felt safe in and felt like I belonged. The car got me where I needed to go, and I don’t need it anymore. She’s in retirement.
“You’re on a bike?” I ask in the darkness of the night.
He turns back to grin at me. “Call me Terror, by the way,” he states in that masculine voice of his. It’s deep, husky and it has a slight southern drawl to it.
I can see exactly why he got that name with a smile like that, it’s terrifyingly beautiful.
I look like a hot mess as I just got off work from a long hard day. “Should I go clean up first? I’m a hot mess,” I joke, but feeling self-conscious at the same time.
He slowly studies me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, like he is taking in every part of me.
“You got one part of that right,” he simply says and lifts my hand in the air above my head, slowly spinning me to examine every part of me.
My stomach flips, and my hands are on the verge of trembling. My nerves are starting to get the better of me because this man is intimidating.
“You are fucking hot.” The admiration in his voice has me holding my breath. No one has ever talked to me like this before.
He reaches into the saddle bag on his bike and pulls out a leather jacket along with a helmet. He lets my hand go and slides my arms into the jacket wrapping it around me. “You just happen to have an extra leather jacket?” I question.
He chuckles. “This is mine.”
The second he zips me in I am overwhelmed with his scent, pure man. His hands are tattooed, and my eyes are on his hands as he lifts the helmet, pulling it gently over my face and snapping it under my chin.
“Well, this is a look.” I laugh and he grins at me. “You look cute,” he says, and I cringe because cute isn’t what I want to be.
But I still smile at the small compliment. He lets me go and swings his leg over his bike. The muscles in his legs, his forearms flexing, you can just see the power he has.
This is probably not a good idea, but I already have the helmet on. I think I just need to go back inside, but I can’t just run off with the helmet on my head.
Right?
He lifts his hand up for me to put mine in his. This is a monumental moment for me. Do I go get into my safe and comfortable bed or do I put my hand in his and live?
He watches me for a moment, patiently waiting. I slip my hand in his, and he holds my hand tightly. “Swing this leg over.” He nods to my right leg, and I swing it over. He steadies me so I don’t roll off the other side.
He reaches behind him with the hand that’s not holding mine, placing it on my calf. His hand is massive and engulfs my entire leg.
“Scoot closer,” he tells me, then helps me slide all the way against him. I’m shown once again how large he is compared to me.
