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“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re one hundred percent right. There’s nothing going on between us, so expecting you to be at my beck and call is not right. Don’t worry, next time I need to do some filming, I’ll hire Peter to take me around.”
“Paul.”
“Whatever!”
“Nica—”
She pulls her helmet on. “Let’s get back to town.”
I rub my forehead. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go. “We have one more stop before we head back.”
“No, I’m done. Take me back to the Gasthaus, please.” She swings her leg over the bike and folds her arms.
I put the water bottle back in the saddle bag, trying to ignore how close she is. My hand brushes against the back of her leg, and we both jerk away. I fasten the buckle and straighten. “I would like to finish my planned tour. Since we’re here as friends, not employer and employee, I have as much right to decide where we go as you do. Once we get there, if you prefer, I’ll take you straight back.”
She gazes at me, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking behind those big, dark glasses. Finally, her lips twist a little. “Ouch. That’ll teach me.”
I climb on, awkwardly lifting my leg over the gas tank—and nearly lose my balance in the process. She puts a steadying hand on my shoulder, and I make it. I reach for the throttle, then hesitate. “What do you mean?”
“Here I was bragging about how I can get you to do anything, and you refuse to take me back to town.” She snickers. “Well played, Matt Hertzsprung.”
I chuckle as I kick the bike to life. “It wasn’t intentional, but so there.”
She grabs my belt, and we roar off down the road.
Chapter 20
NICA
Matt and I rumble past a sign that says Dreibäche Lake Campground. He slows the bike to a crawl, and we wind along a gravel road past tents and small RVs. The road loops around, and water comes into view through the trees. Just as we turn toward the lake, he pulls into a campsite. A shiny new black SUV sits beside a large tent. Camp chairs circle a firepit, and a gas grill stands on a picnic table beside a cooler.
Matt parks the bike beside the truck, and we get off.
I pull off my helmet and shake out my hair. “What’s this?”
He clicks the strap of his helmet closed and hangs it over the handlebar. “Blake and Rachel are camping here this weekend, and we’re having dinner with them. Rob will probably be up later, too, and maybe Dylan and Jamie. You haven’t met them yet.”
“That’s what you meant about the food being arranged already?” I point at the cooler. “They brought it.”
He nods as he scrubs his fingers through his thick brown hair. His matted curls spring up. “Yeah. But if you want to skip it…”
Why would I—oh yeah, the fight. “No, you were right, and I’m sorry. It’s all good. But where are your friends?”
He points through the trees. “At the lake.”
Leaving our leather jackets draped over the bike, we head for the water. Two towels lie on the shore. I squint across the bright lake, spotting three heads swimming in our direction. Pale arms splash over two of them as they crawl forward at a good rate of speed. The third, a very dark and obviously not human head, bobs behind.
“Is that a bear?”
“That’s Kitty. Rachel’s Newfoundland.” Matt cups his hands around his mouth. “Hellooooo!”
The swimmers pause, treading water, and wave. The female head looks back, checking on the dog, then they strike out toward us again. In a few minutes, they emerge, like models in a swimsuit commercial. Water runs down Blake’s broad shoulders, over his pecs and well-defined abs. I suck in some air.
Matt chuckles.
I look away in embarrassment. It’s not nice to get caught ogling your date’s brother. I glance at Matt, but he’s striding closer to the water. Rachel stops about knee deep, waiting for the dog. She looks equally amazing in floral hipster bottoms with a matching halter-style tankini top. The big black dog trots out of the water, pausing on the shoreline to shake, splattering Matt and Blake as water flies from her thick fur. Rachel, who wisely stayed back, laughs.
