It was impressive. A Monster 696, in excellent condition, bright red. Her dream bike. She’d done it.
“Morning,” Jack said, and looked around. “What’s the situation?”
“Um, he’s got a check. I’ve got the bike.” Her heart was pounding, her stomach pitching and rolling. She’d done it. She’d bought a motorcycle, negotiating the salesman down to what the internet said was a fair price. They’d gassed it up, washed it, and parked it outside the showroom.
Now all she had to do was get on it and drive it away.
This was the part where Jason always talked her out of something. Getting started on a dream was never a problem. It was the logistics that overwhelmed her. Buy a bike? Sure. Ride it home, through Lancaster’s stop-and-go traffic on the main thoroughfare? That’s where he always got her, and from the look on the salesman’s face, he could see her nerves.
Jack gestured at the man beside him. “Erin Kent, Keenan Parker.”
“Ma’am,” Keenan said and held out his keys. Uncomprehending, she took the keys from his outstretched hand and looked at Jack. “Keys are in the bike?” Keenan asked.
“Yes,” she said, answering the question without seeing the bigger picture.
“Great. Let’s go.”
The other shoe dropped when they were moving toward the door. Jack had found a way to get the bike off the lot without her having to ride it away under the curious eyes of the dealership staff. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“The airstrip out on Highway 75. Know where it is?”
“I’ll follow you,” she said.
Jack was already straddling her motorcycle, shifting it back off the kickstand. He started the engine and listened for a few seconds. “See you there,” he said, then shot them both a wicked grin before tugging his helmet over his head. He revved the engine up, lifting his boots from the asphalt as the bike started to move, then shot across three lanes of city traffic. In seconds, the engine’s high whine was fading.
“I hope he doesn’t get a speeding ticket on the way there,” Keenan said.
“Let’s go,” she said, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
Fortunately Keenan’s truck was an automatic, but she still drove carefully, accelerating slowly, giving the big vehicle lots of time and room to brake. Bouncing around like a flea on the back of an elephant, she followed Keenan, who was on Jack’s Duc. When they arrived at the airfield, Jack was riding in big looping figure-eights, accelerating, braking, testing the bike. She parked by Keenan, who was getting off the bike and straightening his tie, and nearly fell over her feet getting out of the truck. Jack saw them and rode over.
“It’s in great shape,” he said when he climbed off and took off the helmet. “Brakes are tight, engine purrs like a kitten, handling is really responsive. You got a smoking deal, Erin.”
“And you just got the first ride on my new bike,” she said, and reached over and ripped the sticky price tag off the gas tank.
“It was an honor,” he said, serious, but his eyes were laughing as he tossed her the keys. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”
“That was the most fun I’ll have today,” Keenan said, eying Jack’s bike. He tossed Jack his keys. Erin tossed Keenan his keys. Sheer joy was burbling in her throat, the fun, the adrenaline rush, the camaraderie of standing on an airstrip with two Navy SEALs. She felt like she was in a movie.
“Keep the shiny side up,” Keenan said.
“I’ll try,” she answered with a laugh.
He made a vaguely salute-ish gesture, then climbed in his truck and drove away.
“How did you know?” she said to Jack when the sound of the engine faded.
“Know what?” he said, smiling down at her.
“That the hardest part was getting the bike off the lot.”
He bent his head and kissed her, quick and hot. “Because I knew,” he said, then turned her hand palm up. Her fingers closed tight on the keys. “Now you just have to get it home.”
She turned to look at the bike. Red accents, black and silver everywhere else. It looked cool. It looked sleek and fast and like it would change your life. It looked, in fact, like the mechanical incarnation of Jack. Fast. Dangerous. Able to make her dreams come true.
Oh. Oh uh-oh. This was not a good way to start thinking about Jack. She’d told him she wasn’t looking for anything permanent, and she was going to keep her word. Keep him separate from the bike, no matter how difficult it was.
Jack shrugged out of his backpack. “Here,” he said, digging out a bundle of leather and offering it to her. “I borrowed these from my sister.”
She shook out two garments, a jacket and leather pants. “Thanks.”
“How long do you have?”
“My shift starts at two,” she said absently, looking around. Nowhere to change, but also no one around. Moving as quickly as possible she took off her slacks and pulled on the leather pants, then zipped the jacket over her blouse.