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An eager impulse to have her saying it more and more tingled along my skin.
“Rush to most people,” I said, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jackets. “But maybe, for you, either is okay.”
The little curve of her heart-shaped lips in repose had me stepping closer. Her hair, an angelic blond hung in a long ponytail. I clenched my hands inside my pockets to keep from reaching out to stroke her ponytail. But I had no doubt, it would feel like silk, cool and soft.
She must have noticed me admiring her hair because she tugged on the ends.
“It’s taken me a long time to grow. I never thought I’d get to have a ponytail.” She twisted it around her fingers. “I guess I wear it a lot like that because I’m so damn proud.” Shaking her head she laughed. “Proud of hair. That sounds vain even to me.”
“You should be proud. It's gorgeous.” We were nearly toe to toe and she had to angle her neck to keep her eyes on me. “Lunch?” I grinned down at her. She was petite, delicate. Within the starbursts of her eyes I could see a pain that I didn’t understand but had an overwhelming need to discover and ease.
Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. I don’t know why her answer meant so much, but it did. My body was tight with need for her in a way I'd never experienced before. I wanted her. Definitely. But I also wanted toknowher.
“Okay. Yes. I'd love to.”
We both exhaled at once and I realized I’d been holding my breath.
“Bike is in the parking lot. Did you want to go and check on your car?”
She shook her head, her lower lip pressed between her teeth.
"Come on." Before she could give in to her second thoughts, I took hold of her hand, a surprisingly easy gesture and towed her towards the door and the place where I was parked.
She trailed half a step behind me, almost reluctant, but her hand didn’t leave mine.
When we were outside, I glanced down and was happy to see she was smiling.
As we drew closer to my Harley, I pointed.
“A Harley Davidson? That is so cliché. Where’s your ponytail as long as mine?” She giggled.
I was already taken with her sassy mouth and her spark of individuality. She was different in a good way.
“I try not to be too cliché. But my business partner Clint, he’s a walking testament to biking.”
I caught her eyeing me. My boots, jeans, jacket, and tee shirt. I could almost hear her telling me she disagreed.
“And he’s the guy who had the crash?”
“Yeah,” I handed her my helmet. "Don’t worry, I’ll be taking it real slow." A flash of her body under mine had my stomach tightening. Was it totally douchey to see a life with a woman whose name I didn't even know? Probably but I didn't fucking care.
She bit her lip again as she took the only helmet and then pulled an uncertain twist of her lips. “But you won't have a helmet. I don't want you hurt and I don't want your Harley hurt either."
“Don’t worry about me. We'll all be fine. Besides this is my slowest ride.” I didn't want her to change her mind.
“You have more than one?” she asked, fiddling with the helmet straps.
“Definitely. Motorcycles are my passion." I retook the helmet as she clearly didn’t know what to do with it. “You’ll have to take out the hair band or it'll hurt like hell.” I quirked a smile. “Hence why the cliché ponytail doesn’t work for m—” The words died on my lips as she untied her hair and shook out her golden locks. Dayum, she was beautiful. Her hair fell like liquid metal, the ends hanging down to her waist.
I had nothing else to say. The woman before me was the most beautiful being I'd ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. I shoved the helmet on her head, maybe a bit roughly, just to stop the awkwardness of the moment.
Because I fucking wanted to kiss her. Hell, I wanted to do so much more than kiss her.
"This thing is too big," she said as she adjusted the helmet so she could see.
I chuckled as I watched her. Small and slender with a great black helmet on her head. "It'll have to do."
“You’re laughing at me?” She blinked, flashing her thick and long lashes. Her twin pools of luxurious caramel eyes glaring at me with a flicker of sass.
