“Do you mind if Shelly and I take off? Promised her a ride today.”
“Not at all,” he replies. “Do you have your jacket?” he questions Shelly, looking at what she’s wearing.
“You know I do, Uncle Mack,” she teases. “Dress for the slide, not the ride.” Then she looks at me and states, “There better be no sliding, Abyss.”
I smirk then say, “Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”
Mack looks at me and after swallowing his mouthful of food, states, “She’s an experienced rider, but it’s been a while, Abyss, so for the sake of my mental health, be careful.”
“Always am,” I tell him. “I’ll treat her like the precious cargo she is,” I promise.
“Good, good,” Mack mumbles as he continues eating. “Shelly, I know you already did the grocery shopping, but tomorrow, do you think you can run by and snag me some chips? We’re out.”
She starts giggling then asks, “Uncle Mack, did you check the pantry? I promise, I bought everything on the list you gave me.”
“Huh, it’s probably behind something.”
“Most likely,” she agrees. “Okay, I’m finished so I’ll go up and make sure the computer’s ready for Uncle Mack to screw up.”
He glares at her while she just grins. “I don’t screw it up.”
“Let’s just say it’s a good thing I do regular back-ups,” she retorts. “But it should be good to go since the point-of-sale system is the same one we used to use, and you know how to handle it.”
“Y’all get out of here, I’ve got this,” Mack mutters.
I’ve got multiple bikes garaged, but with Shelly riding with me today, I chose to ride my Harley-Davidson CVO Street Glide Limited. It’s already got a passenger backrest, so even though she won’t be glued to my back, she’ll still be close enough to touch me while also being comfortable.
Slipping the passenger pegs down, I get on and hold the bike steady for her to climb on. The spot where her hand touches my shoulder sends a warmth through me and I close my eyes as I burn it into my memory. Having never had this type of reaction to a woman before, I don’t know how to process it, so I push it aside and concentrate on how it feels to have her sidled up behind me.
I’m one of those bikers who only allows family or an old lady to ride behind him, so the fact that I bought this bike is an indicatorof how badly I want what Rio and BamBam have with Issy and Livy. So, in a sense, this will be my girl’s maiden voyage. I’ve ridden her, of course, but they’ve been solo rides.
Something settles inside when her arms go around my waist. They may not be as tight as I’d like, but I can always take her out on one of my other bikes. Since I plan for us to ride for quite some time, I wanted her to be comfortable, so it was my Street Glide.
“Can you hear me?” I ask. I did go and buy her her own helmet with Bluetooth capabilities so we can talk. Hopefully, I didn’t fuck it up when I synced them.
“Yeah, this is pretty cool,” she says, giving my waist a little squeeze. “I like that we get the benefits of wind therapy while also being able to talk if we want.”
“Helps me and my brothers out as well when we’re out on the road,” I reply.
Granted, I don’t tell her those runs are usually dealing with something we’ve got going on that’s less than legal. She’s not an old lady, but even if she was, I wouldn’t share that with her. Plausible deniability and all that jazz.
“Are we going to just sit here and talk or are we gonna ride?” she asks.
As an answer, I hit the ignition and the bike fires right up, the rumble coursing through from stem to stern, settling something inside of me. We haven’t even pulled out yet and I’m already far calmer than I was after hearing her phone call.
That’sthe power of wind therapy, at least for me.
As we ride, I occasionally point out places she might be interested in checking out further, since she’s so new to the area. Hopefully, I’ll be beside her exploring those places. Because that’s what I want; her by my side.
“Abyss, I need to use a restroom please.” Her voice comes through my helmet, and I reach back and squeeze her thigh.
I stop at Buc-ee’s, knowing that she’s going to want to explore. Doesn’t matter that there was probably one up by her, it’s almost a guarantee that when you go into one, you’ll spend about thirty minutes wandering around, buying shit you want but definitely don’t need.
“Oh, my God, IloveBuc-ee’s!” she exclaims. “Can you get my purse out please?”
“No need, I’ve got it,” I reply. At her look, I give her one back and say, “Sunshine, I’ve got it.”
Sunshine. Yeah, I like that, because despite the pain I can see in her eyes, she’s brought color back into my life.
