Deacon Remy sped down the long stretch of highway trusting his motorcycle to get him across county lines before the storm hit. Over the past several days, he had traveled straight through the state of Tennessee, only stopping to get in a couple hours of rest here and there. He was more than ready to reach his final destination of Aspen Valley where he had some unfinished business to tend to. After over a year away, he was eager to find out if his old hometown had changed at all.

With the threat of bad weather on the horizon, there were no cars or stray pedestrians in sight. Not one cop car strolled along the deserted highway. That was a good thing. Deacon had a lengthy record with the Tellevue County police department. The number of speeding tickets he'd gotten while living in the Valley had surpassed the number of fingers on each hand. But he hadn't come back to Aspen Valley to cause trouble or anything of that sort.

Rain pellets splashed against the visor of his helmet. When he looked back and up into the sky, the dark clouds seemed to gain up on him like a bad omen. He revved the engine and increased his speed by a few more digits.

As Deacon turned the curve, he caught a flash of something shiny and red up ahead at the bend in the road. He hadn't expected the need to stop, but when he saw a woman bent over the hood of a red Corvette, he acted on impulse by applying the brakes. His bike skidded to a screeching halt in the center of the barren highway. It took everything in him to hold his balance on the bike. Although his drag racing days were over, he had remembered enough to prevent a serious accident.

With his heart racing and head spinning, he tugged off his helmet and directed his gaze to the woman on the side of the road. She'd seen him stop and stood by her car, waving her hand back and forth in the air. She was desperate for help just like anyone with a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway would be. Not only that, the storm was catching up with both their asses. What the hell was she doing out here anyway? Did she not heed the radio warnings to vacate the roads and seek shelter?

Deacon wheeled his bike over to help her.

"Thank God you drove by!" she said. "I don't know what happened. I heard these strange sounds coming from the hood and then the check engine light popped on."

She was panicked as evidenced by the look in her pearl gray eyes and from hearing her labored breathing. Her long auburn hair was pulled up high into a ponytail. The spandex, exercise-type gear she wore clung to her like a second skin, showing off a trim form and long, tanned legs. She looked innocent. Beautiful. Perfect. And well-manicured. Based on his knowledge of luxury cars, Deacon could tell that the little red Corvette had been customized, changing his earlier observation that she was the typical girl-next-door type into possibly being a spoiled rich kid. It didn't matter who she was. He was going to help her anyway.

"Are you okay?" he asked, jumping off his bike and then propping it up on the kickstand.

"Yeah, I think so, but my car isn't. I was just trying to get to my dad's house before the storm." She gestured toward the bundle of nasty clouds. "I couldn't even get a cell phone reception."

"Everything will be okay. Let me take a look. Keys?" He held out his hand.

When she dropped the keys inside of his palm, her fingers grazed his skin and a heated vibe passed between them. He blamed the reaction on the sudden need to reach cover before the storm hit and not a need for something else.

Deacon turned the key in the engine, mentally ticking off the list of possibilities for her car breaking down. He even checked the inner workings and wirings under the hood. He ruled out a bad battery and almost anything else visible to him. This wasn't something he could diagnose or fix on the side of the road. Not with the threat of lightning flashing in the distance.

"Kind of hard to tell," he told her. "I'll need more time to diagnose her. Or you could just get her dragged into a shop once the storm passes."

"Okay, but I've tried calling roadside assistance and the lines are all busy."

"Your best bet is to wait until after that storm passes. Why were you on the road again?"

"I was at a friend's gym in Cross City. I thought I could make it across town in time, but I miscalculated. I should’ve waited it out."

“Don’t worry. Where were you headed?"

"I'm staying in Aspen Valley right now," she said.

"I'm riding out that way. I can give you a lift."

She swallowed visibly and then looked him up and down. She also looked to the left of them where the storm was folding in over what looked like all of Aspen Valley.

"I…uh…"

"You don't want to get stuck out here in that storm. I promise I won't bite you," he said with a grin.

A smile crossed her face. "I appreciate your help." She looked at his motorcycle. "But I don't want to slow you down or anything like that. I'll stay behind in my car. You go."

"I'm not gonna leave you out here alone. My grandmama taught me better than that. Either you want the lift or you want us both to stay out here and wait out the storm. Which one will it be?"

She still looked hesitant, but Deacon didn't blame her. He was a complete stranger offering her a lift. By this time, she could probably tell he was a shifter. He had never hidden that he wasn't a human. He'd had no reason to.

He peeled off his right riding glove and held out his hand. "I'm Deacon Remy. I was raised in Aspen Valley. I was on my way there to visit old friends. If you need to check my ID or something, better do it now. If we wait here any longer, both you and I will be caught up in this mess. Now I don't know about you, but I don't want to be cooped up in a car in the middle of a storm."

She sighed reluctantly, and then her cool gray eyes assessed almost every inch of his top half, with her attention lingering on the band of tattoos covering both his arms. For a moment, he thought she would turn him down and take her chances in the storm, but then she extended her own hand.

"Hi Deacon. If it's not too much to ask, can you drop me off near my dad's subdivision? I can walk the rest of the way in."

"I can do better than that. By the time we get into town, it'll be raining wolves and bears outside. Type your address in and I'll get you to your front door."

Deacon directed her to his motorcycle and she pushed her address into the GPS unit. He lifted his trunk bag and pulled out a spare helmet.

"Slip this on and then hop on," he told her. "You're not afraid of riding, are you?"

"No, I've ridden one before. Not solo…but no, I'm not afraid.”

She took the helmet and secured it to her head.

When her softness connected with his back, soldering heat coursed through Deacon, reminding him that he desired something out of his reach. He tried his damnedest to subdue those feelings before starting the engine, but his second half fought him every step of the way.

His animal spirit had awakened at the very moment she touched him, lingering right on the surface of his skin. This was a strange feeling, especially since his wolf hadn't felt this alive in months. It was as if the touch of the woman had revived his spirit. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if the reaction resulted from him returning to his hometown after being away for so long or from the effects of having a tempting but nameless woman on his bike with him.

A light misting of rain came down over them, reminding Deacon that he had no time to lose.

We need to concentrate, he reminded his wolf.

Both he and his wolf were distracted, but a distraction wouldn't help them reach shelter before the storm hit.

Deacon reached behind him, took one of her hands, and brought it to rest on his waist.

"You need to hold on tight. I won't be riding like I'm driving Miss Daisy," he told her.

She giggled. The sound of her laughter was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. When she placed the other hand on his waist, his desire intensified.