Page 18 of Forever My Soldier

“Give me ten minutes,” she said, turning around and clacking her way back to her front door.

I didn’t get to answer, just watched as she started shedding clothes while she was walking. First the jacket, then the shoes. The door closed and I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped my lips. She was one hell of a woman and she clearly wasn’t that different from the girl I knew back when.

Leaning against my bike, I waited, wondering what her mother would say, if she even knew I was back in town.

Before long, the door flung open and out ran Jenna. At my side she waved her foot at me, smiling as I took in her sparkly sneakers, jeans and bedazzled jacket. “Safety first. Now, what are you waiting for handsome? I’m ready.”

She opened the tail pack on the back of the motorcycle, clearly remembering where I keep a spare helmet. Taking it out, she spun it all around. “It’s mine,” she said, admiring it.

I shrugged noncommittally. “Told you not much has changed.”

She licked her lips. “Well, come on, then.”

Watching her slip the helmet on her head I couldn’t resist thinking I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Going with the flow, I wrapped my arms around her, picked her up, and spun her around. “Deke, put me down!” She was giggling as she ordered me to.

When I finally put her down, my arms were still around her and she shook her head, moving out of my embrace. “Don’t think this changes anything. It doesn’t.”

“Okay,” I said, not believing her one bit. It was one small step in the right direction, I knew.

She peered up at my chest and then arms. “I never could resist a man in a leather jacket.”

“That’s all this is about? My leather jacket?” I pulled at the front of it. “I found it in my closet this morning. Always did love this thing.”

“I remember. It’s what drew me to you.”

Her words surprised me, but also pleased me to no end. I wiggled my brows and grinned. “My jacket, who knew?”

She chuckled, her cheeks growing pink. “For a teenage girl, it’s hot. What can I say?” Then she shrugged and looked away for a beat before adding, “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not a teenage girl anymore, Deke.”

I heard her, but that didn’t mean I was going to listen to her. Looking around, I nodded noncommittally. “Whatever you say.”

“All right, you ready to go?” she asked, nudging me toward the bike.

I swung my leg over it and felt at home, just as I always had on here.

She hopped on the back and I could feel her body press into mine as she comfortably wrapped her arms around my torso. I turned around for a brief moment, asking, “Areyouready?”

“Always.”

Chapter Seven

Jenna

The roaring soundof the engine and physical vibration I felt from the seat was making me feel things I hadn’t felt in a while. It was bringing me back to a time and place I felt carefree, like I didn’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders, which was quite literally the opposite of the way I felt most days as of late.

Here, though, straddling the motorcycle seat, my arms wrapped securely around Deacon’s torso, I felt lighter somehow.

All my worries gone.

Stress from my job gone.

Familial obligations, secrets that were like a raging war inside of me, all gone.

We were heading down Collins Avenue, the traffic was light, it being a workday and all, and Deacon picked up speed. I felt the wind against my face, the rumble of the air on my chest. The wind was loud so it drowned out a lot of noise, but my senses were peeked because of it. Smells became stronger, the colorful city even more vibrant. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of being on the back of a motorcycle.

Never in a million years did I think I could feel this way, but from the very first time, once the fear wore off, I felt exhilarated by the ride. People weren’t kidding when they said you never felt more alive than when you were riding a motorcycle.

My heart rate quickened as he turned on to a side road and I clutched Deacon tighter. As we passed the old Avalon Hotel, I smiled to myself, remembering how many times we passed the landmark on our way to the beach. I never stayed there, but it was like a beacon for me, a symbol of home. It had an art deco style, definitely tropical, drawing me and so many others to it. There was one time, though, that Deke and I had a date at the hotel’s restaurant on our way from the beach where we watched the sunset. Live music played, we held hands and talked and kissed for hours—it was one of the most romantic dates we had as teenagers. I wondered if he remembered it, or even as fondly as I did.

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