We ate our pancakes and wandered downstairs to the basement. I'd never played pool and Christian decided he would teach me. We ended up making love on the pool table instead. I didn't complain, but had to finally admit that I was starting to get tender.

We were putting our clothes back on when he asked me, "So you said something before about not coming when Lucas went down on you."

I stiffened, embarrassed. "Yeah, what about it?"

"But you had come before, right? Just not like that?"

I whirled around to face him. He was buckling his belt. "Yes, I've come before, Christian. I know what an orgasm is. You don't go as long as I have without sex, and not figure out a way to compensate for it." I rolled my eyes and yanked up my jeans.

"So do you use your fingers or something with batteries?" he teased.

I busted out laughing. I’d already put on my jeans and was reaching for my bra when I inquired, “This is turning you on, isn't it?"

"Everything about you turns me on, Mimi. I want to watch you make yourself come."

"Now?" I asked, incredulously.

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm gonna save it for our honeymoon." His smile was like a flash of blinding sunshine.

I may have been sore, but just the thought of what he wanted to watch me do caused a rush of heat that hit me right between my thighs. "Aren't we kind of already on our honeymoon?" I asked, as I slowly removed my jeans and panties and kicked them to the side.

After another round of exploratory lovemaking we went upstairs and found that the light veil of snow had already melted away and the noon sun was shining bright and warm.

"The snow is gone." Christian looked down at me, bewilderment in his expression.

"It's not that unusual," I explained. "Besides, we didn't get as much as they predicted. I'm sure other places got slammed but we got barely a dusting."

"But snow in spring is normal?"

"It's technically not spring. Yeah, I'm on spring break, but this is still a winter month."

"You were wearing shorts yesterday, it snowed last night, and it's already warming up."

I nodded. "Yeah, it took a while for me to get used to it, but we're in a southern state yet still at a high elevation. The forecast isn't always accurate. We've had predictions of a dusting and we get twelve inches. Last night they were saying to expect almost six inches, and we got barely a flake." I shrugged my shoulders. "And the temperature is supposed to dip again tonight."

He nodded before asking me, "Wanna ride?" He scratched his chin. "It feels warm enough."

"Ride what?"

"I brought a motorcycle."

"You brought your bike with you? Here?" I knew I sounded skeptical.

"Yeah. Um, no. It's not my bike." He gave me a wicked grin.

"Whose bike is it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Some idiot in Georgia who didn't have the smarts to lock the damn thing."

I tried not to smile as he continued with his explanation.

"It was sitting in the middle of nowhere with a for sale sign on it. I'm driving my buddy's truck and it's the kind with the extended bed. And he happened to have a piece of wood in the back."

"Happened to have a piece of wood in the back?" I interrupted. "Why do I get the impression your buddy has it there for a reason?"

"Because he probably does," he answered in a flash. "Anyway, I stopped and rolled the motorcycle right up into the bed." He waved toward the rear of the house. "It's around back."

I put my hands on my hips and tried to look stern. "So, you want to take me for a ride on a motorcycle that you stole in another state?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

"Give me time to pack us a lunch," I laughed as I headed for the kitchen.

I was grateful that South Carolina didn't have a helmet requirement. It would've given law enforcement a reason to stop us should they have seen us. I cautioned Christian on the roads.

"I know the snow has melted off, but we should be careful anyway," I warned. My parents would be having a fit if they knew I was on the back of a bike without a helmet, but since South Carolina didn't have a helmet law, I wasn't too concerned.

I clung to Christian, not because I was concerned with how he was handling the road, but because I wanted to. Just like being in his arms and in his bed felt right, so did being on the back of his stolen ride. There was no denying it. Being with Christian was where I belonged.

With my arms wrapped tightly around him, I pressed my cheek against his back and inhaled the scent of his hair, his jacket, him. Like the proverbial son who finally found his way home, I knew I'd found my way. Back to my soul mate. Back to Christian Bear.

We rode for almost an hour when he finally pulled over and asked if I wanted to find a picnic table somewhere outside.

"You sure you’re warm?" he asked.

"The sun feels glorious!" I shouted. "Besides, I feel like I'm hugging a space heater. I'm almost too warm," I laughed over his shoulder.

"That sign a few miles back said we're coming up on a state park. I was gonna say we could turn around and head back to that diner if you want to."

"The park," was my response, and he pulled back onto the road.

We found a secluded spot and sat down at a table that was in the sun. I took out the lunch I packed, and silently thanked the bike's owner for having saddlebags.

"Are you keeping the motorcycle?" I asked, giving Christian a sideways glance as I unwrapped our sandwiches.

He was fiddling with his phone and answered, "Nah. I don't need a bike. When I saw it I imagined you on the back of it and took advantage of the opportunity." His eyes cut to mine and he added, "But I'm not returning it. I'll leave it somewhere so it can be found."

"I was just curious," I admitted. "I wasn't trying to give my opinion on what you should do with it." I sat down in front of him. "I just don't want you to get caught with it."

He flashed his pearly whites at me, and I thought I felt butterflies in my stomach, but it ended up being more of a lion instead. When my stomach growled, he chuckled, and took a bite of his sandwich. After a few more bites he asked, "What is this?"

"It's a veggie sandwich. What? You don't like it?"

"It doesn't have any meat on it?"

"That would be the definition of a veggie sandwich." I wasn't being sarcastic, just goofy. "We were out of almost everything. Do you have to have meat?" I took a swig of my bottled water.

"The last time you saw me naked I had testicles, right?" he scoffed.

I spit out my water, laughing. "So where you come from, meat and testicles are synonymous. Got it."

After we cleaned up our mess, I reached for my phone. "Did any messages or calls come through on yours?"

He shook his head. "Not anything new." He proceeded to answer my unspoken questions by offering up details as to how he'd managed to avoid having his phone traced in the event someone knew what he was up to. "And I called my mom yesterday when we stopped on the way home from Chicky's."

"And she didn't suspect anything?"

"Nope." He downed the last of his water. "Any more messages from Lucas?"

"Yes, but nothing from Bettina about Josh." I'd already shared with Christian that even though Lucas wasn't expecting me to reply, he'd been sending me daily texts about how much he missed me. If I'd had even the slightest guilt concerning Lucas, Christian's revelation had squelched it. But Lucas wasn't my concern. I'd explained to Christian over breakfast that in addition to Josh's illness, my bigger worry was my parents’ friend, Bill Petty. When we left Florida, he was the man who'd assumed responsibility for scanning the internet and detecting any searches or inquiries on me and my family.

I nervously fiddled with the cross on my necklace and looked at Christian. "I'm still a little shocked that your friend searched the internet to find me and it didn't alert Bill."

"Maybe it did." His answer was casual, like he didn't have a care in the world.

I shook my head. "No. My mother would've immediately called or texted. She doesn't know."

Our conversation somehow circled back to my parents, and then zeroed in on my father's former motorcycle club. I was surprised when Christian admitted that he'd been riding with my father's old gang, until his arrest and subsequent prison time. I should've been shocked when he told me what he did for them, but I wasn't. It was almost as if I'd already known it somewhere deep inside.

"Are you still a member or did they kick you out for getting arrested?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Are you kidding me? I was their inside guy in prison while I did my time. So I guess I'm still a member, but I haven't seen them. Besides, it was a condition of my probation." He waited for me to say something and when I didn't he continued, "And before you say anything, this is different."

I cocked my head to the side and asked, "Leaving the state and kidnapping isn't a condition of your probation?” He didn’t reply so I added, “Not to mention the stolen motorcycle. I guess it’s a good thing we’re in another state. I highly doubt they’re looking for it here.”

His answer was a mischievous wink.

He filled me in on some details about the gang, which I'd thought had disbanded when Grizz supposedly died.

"They floundered for awhile. Especially after Grizz gave Blue a pass to leave, which is unheard of in the biker community. But too many people respected your father to hold Blue accountable. Besides, he's back. He's been their prez for a few years now."

Shocked, my ears perked up and I sat up straight.

"I didn't know he was back with the gang. I wonder if my father knows?" Before Christian could reply, I added, "My mom ran into Blue right before Christmas."

It was Christian's turn to be shocked. Without any prompting I continued, "To make a long story short, my mother and her sister, who she only met for the first time a few years ago, took a trip to Florida. My father wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he understood that my aunt Jodi, who'd never known her real mother, wanted some type of connection to the past." I tapped my fingers on the picnic table. "It was only a two-day trip where my mother promised to avoid familiar neighborhoods and old hangouts. She was planning on showing Aunt Jodi the house she lived in, her school, where their mother worked. Stuff like that. Mom happened to drive by Razors, and mentioned to Jodi that Grizz used to own it."

"It's not a biker bar anymore," Christian interrupted. "It's like a bistro or cafe or something, and Blue owns it now."

"Yeah, that's what my mom told me. Unfortunately, Aunt Jodi convinced her to stop for lunch. It wasn't her fault. The chances of them running into any bikers from the old days were slim. Of course they never counted on Blue owning it or being there that day. He saw my aunt Jodi coming out of the ladies room and thought it was Mom. It could've been a disaster, especially after my mother stepped in to formally introduce them and he let on that he used to be Grizz's number one guy." I looked heavenward and rolled my eyes. "My aunt despises bikers, and was really awful to Blue. But Mom said he didn't seem offended, and apparently he respected Mom's privacy with her new husband enough not to probe further."

I saw the question in Christian's eyes. "No, he absolutely, positively does not have a clue that Grizz is actually Mom's new husband. He thinks we moved to Montana like she told him when we left South Florida. She felt she owed him that much. Even though we didn't see a lot of him, I was raised thinking Blue was my uncle."

Christian nodded his head. He apparently already knew that story.

"So tell me," I said.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me more about Blue."