“Seems like a long time to me.” He held her hand as she stepped away, his fingers slipping down to her fingertips and then finally breaking away.
She followed the signs to the public bathrooms and waited in line to use the facilities. Afterward, as she washed her hands, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. She felt different inside, but she was amazed at how different she looked, too. Her eyes seemed clearer, and even her skin seemed to glow. She wished her father could see her now. He’d be happy for her, and proud of her for doing so well. It was a good feeling, thinking of him, and she smiled all the way back to the market.
Bear was talking with a thickly bearded guy at another booth. The backpack was fuller than before, and she assumed he’d already gotten the kids’ shirts. She asked the vendor to make her a shirt, and after she paid for it, she waited for Bear to finish his conversation. She held the shirt behind her back, bouncing on her toes, trying—and failing—to contain her excitement.
Bear turned, his eyes locking on her as he closed the distance between them. When he was a few steps away, she whipped the shirt from behind her back and held it up, watching as he read the gold letters. Dip me in honey and feed me to Bear.
He crushed her to him, kissing her hard, like a tsunami about to unleash its wrath.
“Careful, sugar,” he said gruffly. “You’re poking a starving bear.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be careful. Maybe I like poking my starving bear.”
Chapter Eleven
BEAR HAD NEVER spent much time thinking about relationships, but as he and Crystal drove out to the observation deck to watch the wild ponies, all he could think about was that he never knew it was possible to fall harder for someone in just a few hours. He parked at the end of the road and helped Crystal off the bike. She’d put her leggings and jacket on for the ride, and she looked like she belonged on the cover of a Biker Babe calendar. But it wasn’t just how sexy and beautiful she was that had him falling harder with every minute they were together. It was her. All of her. Her sweet, vulnerable side. Her sassy, snarky confidence. Her loving nature, which she’d covered so well for so long. He loved the way she was coming into her own, and there was no place he’d rather be than right there by her side. And it didn’t matter if it took her a day, a week, or a year to embrace their relationship as fully as he had.
The fact that he felt that way and they hadn’t even slept together yet didn’t escape him. Neither did the realization that he’d felt that way long before they’d even kissed.
They followed a path to the observation deck, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an enjoyable afternoon. Crystal leaned over the railing, peering through the trees.
“Look! There they are.” She pointed through a gap in the branches at a band of wild horses grazing on the grass at the edge of the beach. They were sturdy and shaggy. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Wild and free. Reminds me of a certain someone.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind.
She pushed beneath his arm, moving beside him. “Thank you for today. The market reminded me of the ones I used to go to with my dad.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such a great day. Thanks for letting me monopolize you. But I have some bad news.”
Her brows knitted.
He brushed his lips over hers. “Today has done nothing to lessen my addiction. I think I need another hit.”
“Lucky for you, I happen to have a huge supply of kisses.” She went up on her toes, and he met her halfway to feed his addiction.
They watched the ponies until something spooked them and they bolted away, their muscular legs pounding the earth, kicking up dirt in their wake. They rode home as the sun dipped from the sky. In Peaceful Harbor, they passed Whiskey Bro’s, where his brothers’ and Dixie’s bikes were parked out front, along with his mother’s car. The bar wasn’t open on Sundays, but Dixie went in to take care of the books, and a few family members usually ended up hanging out with her. Normally he’d stop by, but tonight all he wanted was to be with Crystal.
He drove through town and turned off the main drag toward the mountains, winding through tree-lined, narrow roads toward his home. One of the things Bear loved most about Peaceful Harbor was that in addition to all the benefits of the beach, just a few miles away it also offered the seclusion of lakeside living in the mountains.
He pulled into his driveway and stopped in front of the garage. The property was dark, save for the moonlight slicing through the trees and glistening off the lake down the hill to their right. His mother was always on his back about putting up solar-powered lights so he didn’t come home to a dark house, but no one fucked with a Dark Knight.
He pushed the garage door button on his key fob and pulled his bike inside. As he climbed off, he imagined Crystal arriving there alone. He was getting miles ahead of himself, but even those few hours apart that morning had driven him crazy. He’d used the time to prepare what he hoped would be a nice surprise, but that hadn’t taken away the longing to have her right there by his side. He made a mental note to put up a few solar lights.
“I didn’t know you lived by the lake.” Her eyes swept over his partially assembled bike and the metal shelves around the perimeter, which were littered with equipment, tools, and various vehicle parts. A motorcycle crane and old wooden tool chests sat against the back wall along with three workbenches. “And you thought my design studio looked like it exploded. What is all this stuff?”
“That’s the bike I’m currently building. It doesn’t look like much yet, but it’s getting there.”
She walked over to it, stepping around his tools and other paraphernalia lying on the floor. “It looks like much,” she said with a smile. “How exciting. I can’t wait to see how it looks when it’s done.”
She pointed up toward the bikes parked on the loft at the rear of the garage. “And those bikes? Are they your extras?”
“I designed and built two of them.”
“You should really take that offer with Silver-Stone. I mean, look at this place. Motorcycles are your life. You said you designed and built two of them. So are those other two extra bikes that you bought?”
“Those were my uncle Axel’s. I bought this place from him before he passed away. A lot of this stuff was his.” A familiar wave of emptiness pushed through him. “He taught me everything I know about…” He waved a hand. “We lost him to lung cancer when I was twenty-two.”
She reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry.”