I turned my fucking computer off and stormed out of my chair. All of this was bullshit, and I needed to go for a ride. I could feel my heart rate skyrocketing as my blood pumped through my veins. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I needed to figure out why this had started and why this was going on.
But I knew I wasn’t going to figure it out until I calmed down.
Tossing my leather jacket over my shoulders, I grabbed my helmet and headed for my bike. Onyx was sitting there for me, shining in the sunlight. If she had a face, I knew she’d be smiling at the view she had of the water.
I threw my leg over my bike and started her up. Her engine revved beautifully for me, and I smiled at the sound. A nice drive up the coast would do wonders for me. There was a seafood place just before the Washington State border that had the best soft shell crab sandwiches in the state.
It was near my mother’s gravesite, and I figured I could pay her another visit.
The wind ripped past my body as I drove up the coastline. The ocean was beautiful this time of year, especially since it wasn’t riddled with tourists. The sand was undisturbed, and the waters weren’t filled with screeching children. The water crashed upon some of the jagged rocks that peppered the coastline.
Those were my favorite places to sit. I felt helpless on those rocks. Helpless to the fury of the ocean as it crashed along the jagged edges. I loved the way the water washed over my body and drenched my clothes. I loved the way it curled around my form just before the water broke and soaked me to the bone.
My mom used to stand with me on the rocks, and we’d laugh our asses off as we got soaking wet.
I came upon an accident on the road, and it stopped me in my tracks. The traffic was moving at a snail’s pace, and the longer I sat there, the darker it became. This was my day off, and I wasn’t about to spend it sitting in fucking traffic trying to go get a sandwich. This drive was supposed to clear my head, and the only thing it was doing was adding to my stress levels.
So, I turned myself back around and cruised back up the coastline.
I drove through town, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to eat. My nerves were shot, and I knew cooking wasn’t on the table. If I went back to my cabin without something to eat, I’d end up ordering a pizza, and the grease alone would make me feel gross for the next couple of days.
If there was one thing my mother ingrained into me, it was a natural appreciation for one’s body. She taught me that there was nothing we did or ingested that didn’t have some sort of impact on us. She cooked fresh whenever she could, and when we ate out she showed me how we could still eat well. She taught me to stay away from fast food joints whenever possible, and she showed me the importance of a gym.
The gym helped her to relieve the stress she was under as a single mother running from the situation my father put us in. She worked two jobs, raised me, and shoved her love life under the rug to make sure she was doing right by me. The gym was the only thing that kept her sane. It kept her afloat when she felt the world was caving in around her.
I should’ve known something was wrong when she stopped going.
Nothing in town seemed to strike up my appetite, though, and I was getting pissed. This head-cooling drive was quickly turning into a massive bust, and as I rounded the corner, I was ready to start home. I could just order a pizza and pile the vegetables on it to make myself feel less guilty. All I wanted to do was get out from underneath the eyes of this town and get back to the solitude that was my cabin.
Then I saw a car on the side of the road.
The tire was obviously flat, and the young woman was bent over trying to figure it out. I saw the trunk opened and in disarray, the tire iron and random lug nuts scattered on the ground. The woman was struggling to crank the jack in order to get the tire suspended into the air, so I decided to pull over and see if I could offer my help.
Then, the pile of blonde hair looked up at me with those dark green eyes.
“Well, hello again,” I said.
It looked like my luck was about to turn around.
“Hi,” she said, sighing.
“Need help?” I asked.
“I think I’ve got it.”
It was obvious she didn’t. I was thankful for the opportunity to see her again. There was something that drew me to her. Her body called to mine. Her ass was jutted into the air as she grunted, her entire body heaving as she cranked the jack that started hoisting the car into the air.
“You sure you’ve got that planted in the right spot?” I asked.
“I’ve got it,” she said, grunting.
She gave the joist another crank, and that was when the car creaked.
“Look, I get that you don’t need help, but I’m going to help you anyway. If that jack isn’t positioned correctly, you’re gonna have bigger problems than a flat tire.”
She glared up at me before she relented. I watched her get up and dust her knees off as I took her in one last time. Her curves were sensual, primal in a way I hadn’t found in this town yet. My cock throbbed for her underneath my jeans as I got down onto my knees, releasing the car and letting it sit back down onto the ground. I got up underneath the car and repositioned things before I cranked it up into the air. Then I got to work on switching out the bad tire with the spare.
“You keep a full spare in your trunk,” I said.
“Doughnut tires are shit,” she said.
“I take it you’ve worked with them before?”
“Yep. Blew a tire when I was seventeen, put the doughnut one on, and blew it two miles later.”
“Bad luck,” I said.
“Shitty tire.”
“That, too.”
I slid the bad tire off and rolled the good one over to me. Within ten minutes, I had the new tire on the car and was piling everything back into her trunk. She was being clipped with me, but I could tell she was quirky from the way she held herself and the way she spoke with confidence. She bucked up to me like she was six-foot-two and three hundred pounds. Except she couldn’t have been more than five-foot-four and one hundred and sixty pounds.
Maybe.
“Thanks,” she said. “Again.”
“No problem. A lone woman in a strange city can get herself into trouble if she’s not careful.”
“Who says I’m alone?” she asked.
“You mean you’re with some shitty dude who hasn’t accompanied you anywhere in Brookings yet?” I asked.
“Why’s it gotta be a man?”
“You mean you’re with some shitty woman who hasn’t accompanied you anywhere in Brookings yet?”
She shook her head before a small giggle fell from her lips. The sound was radiant. Like sunshine piercing through the dark clouds of a thunderstorm. Her deep, dark eyes flickered with a bit of light as her smile crossed her cheeks, and I found myself captivated by it.
“Maybe I’m just by myself,” she said. “An independent woman who knows how to kick your ass twelve different ways without touching the knife in my pocket.”
“Those exist?” I asked.
“They do! They stuff their face with cinnamon rolls, walk with their heads held high, and say ‘fuck you’ to heels.”
“Not a fan of heels?”
“I don’t own a damn pair.”
“I don’t blame you. They’re uncomfortable.”
That smile lit her face and she giggled again, but this time, she seemed a little more relaxed. She had a quirky sense of humor, but I enjoyed that. She could hold her own in a conversation, and not many women could do that. My eyes scanned her body and took in her skinny jeans and her ballet flats. She was the opposite of all the women I’d ever come across in the bars I hit with Caden, and it was refreshing.
“Are you sure I can’t take you to dinner?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Dinner. On me. Anywhere you’d like. Or I could take you somewhere where all the locals go to get the best food.”
“Ah, the places that are never advertised?” she asked. “Did I mention the knife I have in my pocket?”
“The knife in your left back pocket? Yes.”
Her stare morphed from playful to serious, and I knew I’d stuck my foot in my mouth.
“I can’t,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to make you—”
“I have a boyfriend.”
There it was. Those four words that always stopped a man in their tracks, or should, anyway. I knew they weren’t true.
Even an independent woman always had some sign that a man was at her side. She would’ve had her phone in her ear talking to him while I was changing her tire. Or maybe he would’ve been at the hotel waiting for her to get back with the groceries. Or maybe he would’ve fucking been with her grocery shopping in the first damn place.
Any half-decent man worth his salt would’ve been at her side at some point in time.
If I called her on it, I would look pushy and insensitive. Like a dick who was calling her a liar. I had to roll with it, even though everything about her screamed that she was single and in an unknown city all by herself. I couldn’t find a way past those four words without looking like a great big cock.
And not the kind she would enjoy.
“Then you should give him a call,” I said. “Let him know you’re okay.”
Our eyes connected one last time, and I could see that apprehension rising up in them again. Maybe she was second-guessing herself, possibly regretting the decision she’d just made. But the ball was no longer in my court, and there was nothing I could do about that unless she spoke up about it.
When she didn’t, I turned my back and headed to my bike.
“Thanks again,” she said.
“Not a problem.”
I slipped my helmet onto my head and cranked my bike up. Never had a woman worked this hard to deny my advances. She was a beautiful woman, with curves for days and the uncanny ability to stop me in my tracks. She was mouth-watering, and every time I saw her, my fingertips tingled.
My cock rose in her direction, and my heart started slamming against my chest. With her, it was more than just the thrill of the chase. It was more than just wanting to get her into bed and forget about parts of my life. There was a desire to get to know her and to know what sparked the apprehension behind her eyes whenever she looked at me. There was a desperation that turned my mouth dry as I lost myself in her stormy green eyes.
She was everything I’d never encountered in a woman before, and I wanted to peel more than just the layers of her clothing back.
The sound of my bike drowned out the voices running through my head, but before I could ride off, I felt a hand come down onto my shoulder. I turned my head, and I was looking into those dark peridot eyes.
Gone was the apprehension, and in its place was guilt.