Page 2 of Biker's Fake Engagement Ride

“Hello?” I ask. He turns around and he’s even better from the front. His chest is very defined, as are his abs. “Jonathon,” I breathe out, a little more obviously aroused than I should be. “Wow. It’s… um… it’s good to see you.”

We’re not friends. We’re not close at all. In a place like Pinecrest Peak, though, you know everyone. He smiles and says, “I knew you’d be arriving sometime this summer. Didn’t know when. It’s good to see you, Mandy.”

That makes me blush a little. Nobody calls me Mandy. It’s always Amanda or Manda. I don’t know why I love that Jonathon does. Well, I mean, I guess it’s because he’s an ultra-sexy older man outlaw biker. I guess that’s why.

“What are you… um, doing?”

He smiles and says, “I’ve been taking care of your great-grandmother’s place.”

“You have?”

He nods. “From the moment she couldn’t take care of it anymore.”

“I didn’t know,” I say. “You… Come inside. Let me give you a drink.”

He smiles and says, “How about after I finish the fence?”

I nod and hurry into the house. I know it’s damned silly of me but I freak out because I don’t have anything. I called Jonathon that I was running to the store and I’d be right back. There’s only one store in Pinecrest Peak. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Ten minutes later, Jonathon is done with the fence and I lead him into the house. He sits down to lunch as well as a nice cold beer.

And I learned that Nana was actually the sister of the very first Midnight Avenger president! The club has always considered it their responsibility to take care of her and now, her house. I’m blown away. Then, Jonathon says, “Now that you own it, I hope you’ll let us keep taking care of it.”

I stare at him. I want to speak. I can’t. Instead, the reality that I’m very likely not to own this house hits home and I start crying like a baby.

I feel absolutely foolish, of course. I mean, out of nowhere, I turn into some kind of a blubbering idiot. I have to give Jonathon credit, though. He immediately gets close to me and puts his arms around me. I guess any girl would love strong arms like that around her when she’s sad, right? Well, I sure do. I cling to him and we end up on the couch where I end up on his lap, holding him while I cry. Jonathon just lets me cry, just holding me and saying nothing.

Eventually, I’m all cried out. I let him hold me a little longer and then get up and hurry to the bathroom. I feel humiliated and embarrassed, of course. I splash some water on my face, look at myself in the mirror, and whisper, “Okay, go face the embarrassing music.”

I get back out and say, “Wow. Sorry about that.”

“You have no reason to be sorry,” he replies with a smile. “You still miss her a lot, huh?”

“No,” I say. Then, I blush. “Well, I mean, yes, I really miss her. But that’s not why I was crying.” I tell him all about the condition in my Nana’s will. He listens as I speak and, again, I’m impressed that he lets me speak instead of interrupting.

When I’m done, he says, “I want to get this straight. You need to be engaged for six months to get the house. Otherwise, it sells as part of the estate. Is that right?” I nod and he says, “And your grandmother’s house means a lot to you, a lot more than how much money it’s worth.”

I nod again. I don’t speak because I’m afraid I might start crying again. He says, “Okay. Will you marry me?”

I stare at him in shock for a second. Marry him? I mean, I only know him because everybody knows everybody in this place! He smiles and says, “Will you marry me? I won’t mind if you break the engagement off in, say, six months and a day or two. But until you break it off, will you marry me?”

I stare in shock again but now it’s because I understand what he means. “Jonathon,” I whisper, “you… you’d do that for me? How much do you want?”

He laughs. “I don’t want anything. I’ll be doing it for your Nana and for you.”

It’s kind of like getting punched right in the stomach when he says that. Well, it’s whatever the equivalent of getting punched in the stomach is if you’re blown away in a positive way. I stare at him and I just break down again.

So, this is the second time I end up a blubbering idiot while Jonathon holds me. Finally, I get up again and rush to the bathroom to clean up one more time. I come back feeling silly and sheepish. I say, “Okay, I think I have all of the crying like a total idiot stuff out of my system.”

He smiles and says, “You’re not an idiot at all.”

“Are you serious about helping me like this?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” he says.

And I lose control. I don’t start crying this time. I lose control in a different way. I just move forward, straddle him, and kiss him.

I kiss him hard.

This isn’t planned. I mean, I just get caught up in the moment. I also don’t plan to make it clear to Jonathon that he can do anything he wants. Nonetheless, I move my hips so I’m essentially straddling him and rubbing myself over the bulge in his jeans. If that doesn’t make things clear, I don’t know what the heck could.

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