Page 54 of Sin Bin

She shook her head. “They seem pretty dangerous.”

“They can be, but I’m a safe driver,” he assured her. “And I’ll go slow like I did last night.”

So she hadn’t imagined it. He had been driving slower for her sake. Her heart gave an odd little squeeze.

He glanced up at the cloudless sky. “It’s such a beautiful night. It’s like the weather warmed up just for you.”

She smiled at that. The weather had indeed done a dramatic one-eighty, warm temperatures replacing yesterday’s frigid cold. She’d barely needed her jacket all day. But now it was starting to cool down again.

“So what do you say?” Logan cajoled.

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she eyed the Harley. “I don’t know…”

Logan grinned. “C’mon, Jupiter. Don’t be such a chickenshit.”

She bristled. “I’m not a chickenshit.”

“Prove it.” His eyes gleamed, daring her. “Ride with me.”

She took a deep breath, praying for courage. You only live once.

“All right,” she finally relented. “I’ll do it.”

Logan gave her one of those infectious grins that made it impossible not to grin back.

“C’mon.” Before she could change her mind, he grabbed her hand and led her down the driveway to the gleaming Harley.

“What should I do with my purse?” she fretted.

“Here.” He took it and secured it in a saddlebag behind the seat.

“What about my glasses? Won’t they—”

“No, they won’t fall off.”

There was an extra helmet fastened onto the back of the bike. Logan handed it to her and put on his own helmet, then swung his leg over the seat like he’d been mounting Harleys all his life.

When he shot her an expectant glance, she realized that she’d been standing there gawking at him. She couldn’t help it. He looked scorching-hot and totally badass sitting astride the motorcycle.

Clearing her throat, she pulled on the helmet and fumbled to fasten the chin strap. “It’s kind of loose,” she complained. “I hope it won’t—”

“For fuck’s sake, Jupiter. Quit stalling and get on the damn bike.”

She huffed and awkwardly climbed on behind him.

“Finally,” he growled in exasperation. “Damn, woman. Why is it such a struggle to get you to do anything?”

“Because I approach everything with caution,” she said with a haughty sniff. “Speaking of which, should you even be riding motorcycles during the hockey season? What if you have an accident and get hurt?”

“I could get hurt in a car accident or a plane crash. Does that mean I should stop driving cars or flying on planes?”

“Well, no. But—”

He revved the motor, startling a squeak out of her as the engine roared awake like a pissed-off lion.

“Put your arms around me,” he instructed.

When she balked, he grabbed her arms and wrapped them around his waist, sending a shiver through her. “Hold on tight and don’t let go.”

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