Page 90 of Tulips and Lost Time

Wrapping her legs around my bike and snuggling in tight is next. Sucker.

“If we crash and your brain is smeared on the road, don’t expect me to find a bucket so you’re buried with all your parts.”

“Your concern is endearing.” I twist and pat the seat. “Now get the fuck on my bike. You’re wasting time.”

“And you’re an asshole,” she growls. “Still. Perhaps, unbelievably, worse. Which is quite the accomplishment, really.”

“Uh huh.” I grab her hand and yank her in, feeling only mildly guilty when her chest clashes with my shoulder and her breath races out to bathe my chin. “This is the longest non-conversation I’ve ever had in my life. I’d like to get away from work before my next shift starts, if that’s cool with you.”

Snarling, she jerks her hand from mine and tightens the straps on her bag as though terrified it’ll fly off during our trip. Then she approaches her section of the bike, unsure where the hell she should put her hands and still maintain her air of rage.

“On my shoulders, beautiful.” I tap my shoulder and glance back to meet her fiery eyes. “You gotta touch me to make this work.”

“I could touch a shovel and dig your grave. That sounds more fun.”

“Your threats are oddly specific and slightly awkward.” I practically fucking tremble when she throws her leg over the bike and settles in behind me. Though I’ll be dead and buried before I show it.

Just as dead as I’d obviously be if I ever accepted the six inches she places between us.

She thinks she’s so fucking clever, sitting so far back and holding me with the tips of her fingers. But I hook my arm around instead, cupping the small of her back before she can stop me. Then I yank her closer, swallowing down my groan when her chest crashes against my back and her legs hug my thighs. Her core is like lava and her breath is sweet on the back of my neck. “That’s better.” I look over my shoulder and smirk. “Now wrap your arms around my body. Kinda how you would if we were fucking.”

“Ithink this might be my stop.” Jess pushes off Kane’s lap and shakes her head, circling away from the table and snickering. “You’re about to tell those stories. And I’m not sure I need to hear them.”

“I wanna hear them.” Kane lounges back, opening his legs wide and grinning. “I know there are years of built-up frustration here, Lenaghan. And it’s all about to blow. Bet you a million dollars shit gets violent fast.”

Jess mock gags, heading toward the living room to where the twins play and giggle. “La-la-la-la-la-la-la.” She plugs her ears. “I don’t need to hear this stuff.”

I meet Kane’s eyes and chuckle. “Kari and I didn’t hook up that night.”

His lips flatten, disappointment like sparks in a bonfire. “Lame.”

“But I got her on my bike. And I sure as shit didn’t take her straight home.”

At that, his eyes lighten and his lips curl once more. “Attaboy. Kidnapping them is my favorite thing to do. That line between consent and non-consent…”

“Kane!” Jess barrels back into the kitchen. “He is my brother! Can you not?”

Kane only snickers, his chest and shoulders bouncing. “I love that gray area between yes and no. It’s a fucking thrill.”

My stomach jumps with disgust. My nose, wrinkling with horror. “I don’t need to know that.” Then I look at Jess and point. “You’re lucky you’re already married and mostly happy. Because if I knew this shit years ago, I’d have put you on a cargo ship headed for Greece.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes. “Lucky me.”

27

LUC

IS IT ST PATRICK’S DAY?

Islow the bike at a truck stop, twenty or so minutes outside the little town we call home. Paddy’s, which is where truckers come to rest in between Point A and Point B, to fuel up and get a meal. They come in to have somewhere quiet to stow their trucks and catch a little sleep. And when they’re feeling brave, they head inside and spar with the buxom Dolly—Paddy’s loud and large waitress.

Mitch and I come out here sometimes when we have time and a hunger for fried bacon.

Often, we’re called out here on a job because folks cause trouble and need a band-aid or two, and they don’t want to go into town for that.

“I didn’t agree to this.” Kari peels her chest off my back and unravels her arms from my stomach. She tried the frigid, barely-gonna-touch-you thing only until we hit the train tracks leaving town. After that, I figure she decided fuck it, when in Rome and all that, resting her helmeted cheek against my back and linking her hands in my lap. She melted into my body as though we’ve done this a million times before, and even as I left the town limits behind, she didn’t tense up.

She doesn’t mind we’ve gone for a detour. She minds that I parked and now she has to actually acknowledge my existence once more.

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