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“Well, the simple life and being in a biker club.”

“Yeah, well, we all need a little excitement now and again,” I said, getting another smile out of her.

“Is it really that exciting?”

“It has its moments. But it tends to be more like one week of excitement followed by months—or even years—of the same old, same old. I know some guys live for the thrill of it, but I’m happy with things being calm.”

“Really? The former SWAT team member isn’t into all the action?”

“You got me there. I definitely have had a wild, adrenaline-seeking side. I guess I’ve just… mellowed out in my older age.”

“Older age,” she snorted, shaking her head at me. “I’m afraid there is going to be no elegant way for me to eat this,” she admitted as she picked up a taco.

“That’s why they brought us extra napkins.”

We mostly ate and talked about food then, discussing all the places she wanted to check out. And the way she talked about it, it had the hairs rising on the back of my neck. Because she spoke of these places as if she hadn’t had access to them in years, even though they’d been around. Like, I thought with a sinking feeling in my gut, she’d been in prison. Locked away dreaming about them but not being able to have what she wanted.

Clearly, her ex was an asshole. We’d established that in many ways. But I think I was underappreciating how controlling he might have been. To the point where he wouldn’t allow her to eat the kind of food she’d clearly been craving. And now that she was somewhat free of him, she no longer had the financial security to eat there.

I made a mental note of all the places and all the dishes she’d mentioned, filing them away for future date ideas.

Because, yeah, now that I had one more go of this, my mind was made up. I wanted more.

Had I dated anyone since my ex?

That’d be a no.

Sure, I had casual hookups and maybe even flings with club girls. But I hadn’t actually dated anyone in the traditional sense since… fuck, high school.

I couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason why this was different, why I wanted to do that with Georgie. I just knew it was how I felt. Like there was some sort of rightness about it that I couldn’t put a finger on. So I wasn’t going to ruin it by analyzing it. I was just going to go with it. And hope Georgie kept feeling the same tug I did.

After dinner, neither of us seemed inclined to go right back to the bike, so we walked down the street, window shopping and people watching until we made our way down to the marina.

The air was cooler near the water, making a shiver move through Georgie as she stood at the railing, looking down at the moon-kissed waves.

And that was just the perfect excuse to move in behind her, wasn’t it?

“Need some warmth?” I asked, arms going to the railing at each side of her body.

She leaned back into me, her head angling to the side so she was almost nuzzled into my neck.

She sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, her whole body relaxing into me.

“Better?” I asked.

I got a nod to that.

Then there was a beat where she just stood, bracketed in my arms. Until she turned suddenly, wrapping her arms around me.

My arms slid around her, holding her close when she squeezed me tighter.

Maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe she just desperately needed a hug. Either way, I was glad to be part of it.

When she didn’t pull away and try to brush the moment off, just held on, my hand started to slide up and down her spine, then up into her hair, massaging her scalp.

That touch got an entirely different kind of tremble out of Georgie as she let out a soft little sigh. Not long after that, it was no longer a sigh; it was a moan.

Desire sparked, caught, burned.