AllFreeNovel
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“I think I need a nap now,” Jenna laughed.
Ryder threw an arm over the back of his chair and studied her.
“You ever been on the back of a bike?”
Jenna’s eyes went wide, “Ummmm, no. Which is ironic, considering what I teach.”
Ryder grinned, “That’s what I thought.”
For the past half hour, Ryder had listened to Jenna talk about everything from the courses she taught in college to her divorce to her daughter.
He’d questioned lightly, enjoying her voice, and just listening to a beautiful woman with sparkling eyes talk about subjects she so obviously enjoyed.
But in all that talking, she’d never mentioned riding.
Ryder stood and held out a hand. “Wanna go?”
“For a ride?” Jenna asked. “With you?”
Ryder almost balked at her questions, that old insecurity piercing his chest and burning through his gut.
But he stood his ground, hand extended, and didn’t say a word. He might crash and burn with her, but at least he’d know he tried.
“Yes,” she breathed on a smile that lit up the whole room.
Jenna put her hand in his, and he pulled her toward the front doors.
“Where you goin’?” Gate’s voice echoed down from where he watched them in the loft.
Ryder looked up. “Taking Jenna for a ride. She’s never been on a bike.”
Gate smiled, “Girl, you gonna write about the club, you gotta know what you’re talking about.”
Jenna practically danced beside Ryder she was so excited. “I know! Nothing like writing from experience. This is gonna be soawesome.”
Gate shook his head, “You’re a nerd. You know that?”
Jenna cocked her head, “But I’m a cute nerd. So it all balances out.”
“Cute aint’ the word I’d use,” Gate muttered.
“Come on, Sweet,” Ryder said. “Bike’s waiting.”
Jenna waved up at Gate and followed Ryder out the front door. “Sweet?” she asked.
“Tell you later,” he said.
They stepped into the sunshine. “Which one’s yours?”
Ryder jerked his head, “Red over there.”
He watched Jenna approach his bike, like it was a religious experience. She walked all the way around it before she looked at him.
“It’s perfect for you. What tribe?” she asked, her voice soft.
Ryder’s bike was a deep scarlet red with a tan leather seat and saddle bags. The custom paint job, all howling wolf, feather headdress, and dream catcher, had cost him a mint but had been worth it.
She was stunning.
