Page 12 of Big Bossy Biker

Chapter Seven

Noah

The day started the same as yesterday—with me nursing a cup of that god-awful coffee from the front office, hoping to see Fiona. After spending most of the day yesterday stopping by the office, hoping for a glimpse of her, I finally caved and asked the sour-faced older woman at the desk where she was. The look she gave me could’ve soured milk.

“Called out sick,” she said with a gruff edge, like I’d interrupted something way more important than her just sitting there doing nothing.

Sick? Sure, maybe. But my gut told me it was something else. Something to do with the night before in the break room. I’d let things get intense, pushed her farther than I probably should’ve, and now she was avoiding me. The thought made me want to punch myself in the face for being a dumbass.

The worst part? I don’t even have her number. How the hell did I let that slip? I’ve the spent days I’ve been her thinking about her every goddamn minute, and now I have no way to reach out. I’m at the mercy of when or if she shows up at work again.

So, there I am, sitting on the curb outside the motel, trying not to drive myself nuts, when Steven calls me with what should be good news. He had a connection a town over that was able to drive over the part he needed and now my bike’s ready daysearly. He offers to drop it off at the motel, which is a solid gesture.

When Steven finally drops the bike off later in the morning, he gives me a once-over like he knows I have something on my mind, but he doesn’t ask. I appreciate that. I’m not in the mood to talk about it, especially not with a stranger.

“Bike’s running smooth,” he says, handing me the keys. “Shouldn’t give you any more trouble. Took it for a spin myself. Purrs like a kitten now.”

I give him an appreciative nod. “Thanks, man. You do good work.”

“Anytime.” He pauses, looking like he wants to say something else. “You know I have a girlfriend?”

My eyebrows rise at the weird diverge in conversation. “Uh, congrats?”

“Yeah, it feels like I won something,” he admits with a wide grin. “She’s half my age though and at first, I thought I didn’t deserve her. Thought that maybe she’d be better off with someone else. A different life than the one I can give her.”

Now this peaks my interest. “Really? What changed your mind?”

“I realized that if she chose me, then I need to trust her judgement.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s hard as men to admit when someone knows better than us, but women have this sense about them. They know who they want and if it’s you they want, go with it.”

I give him a once over. It’s odd to get the advice I’m looking for from a stranger who should have no idea what’s going on in my life.

“Thanks for the advice, but I don’t know if it fits.”

He shoots me another grin. “Girls talk. This town talks. Just take in what I said.” With that, he walks away, climbing into his tow truck and pulling off without another look.

I stare after him for a second wondering what the hell any of that meant before I climb onto my bike, feeling the familiar weight of it under me, the engine rumbling beneath me as I twist the throttle. I hope that the ride will help clear my head a little. It usually does. There’s something about the open road, about the wind rushing past and the hum of the engine that gets me out of my own head.

But today, even that isn’t working.

All I can think about is Fiona.

I have my bike fixed, thanks to Steven, but that only makes my brain churn harder. The bike is ready. I should be ready too. Ready to hit the road and leave this sleepy town behind. But I’m not. Not when Fiona is still here. She’s gotten under my skin, and I’m not sure what the hell to do about it.

I’ve been riding solo for years, never sticking around in one place too long. And that’s how I like it. That’s how IthoughtI liked it, at least. Bounty hunting pays well enough to keep me on the road, catching bad guys every few months and collecting my payout before moving on to the next town. It’s a life I’ve come to love. I’m not tied down to anything, or anyone. No attachments. No roots.

But now? Now I have this gnawing feeling in my gut that leaving town would be a mistake. Not because I don’t want to hit the road again, but because ofher.

Fiona has me hooked. And the worst part is, I don’t even know why. She’s half my age. Probably looking for a guy who can give her the white picket fence, two-point-five kids, and all that bullshit. And here I am, a rough-around-the-edges biker whocan’t stay in one place for longer than a month without getting antsy.

Can I even give her what she wants? Hell, I’m not sure I can giveanywoman that. Not with the way my life’s been going.

But damn it, I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t shake the feel of her skin, the taste of her, the way her body pressed against mine in the dark of that break room. And I can’t help but wonder if she’s been thinking about me, too.

Fat chance,I tell myself as I finally pull back into the motel parking lot. She was avoiding me for a reason. I probably realized that getting involved with a guy like me is a mistake.

Still, I have to know. I have to see her, talk to her, and figure out if there is even the slightest chance that she is feeling the same way I am.

I park my bike outside the office and walk inside, hoping—again—that she’ll be there.

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