Page 3 of Big Bossy Biker

“So,” I say after a moment, unsure of the reason for his visit, “is there anything I can help you with?”

“You mentioned a restaurant earlier,” he says nonchalantly. “I was wondering if you could show me when you get off work.”

The side of my mouth quirks up at his divine timing. “I’d love to. I’ve only got another twenty minutes until my shift finishes. I can drive us over then.”

“Perfect,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have a call to make. I’ll be right outside.”

“And I’ll be right here,” I reply as he walks out of the door with his phone held up to his ear.

The next twenty minutes seem to crawl by. I finish the work that I was planning on leaving for my replacement. Then, whenI have nothing else related to my job to do, I set my phone on my desk and use the front camera as a mirror to fix my hair and touch up my mascara. I’m not sure why I’m so concerned with how I look, it’s not like Noah hasn’t already seen me. Still, I want to impress him.

I don’t have a lot of experience with men. When other girls my age started to show interest in boys, I got myself a job. It was essential. Having a single mother meant that our funds were limited. The only way I was going to get myself a leg up in the world was if I found myself a steady stream of income. I was so occupied with work and school that I didn’t have a chance to entertain any of my fleeting teenage crushes. At twenty-one, I haven’t even had my first kiss.

I’m drawn out of my thoughts by my coworker arriving and giving me a smile. We exchange a few pleasantries while I clock out. Then, I grab my bag and meet Noah right outside the door. His phone call has ended, and he’s taking in the surroundings.

“Ready to go?” he asks, glancing over at me with those disarming eyes.

“Yep,” I confirm, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.

We walk to my car, a description not necessary considering that there are only two vehicles in the parking lot and he watched my coworker arrive. I unlock the doors, and as we get in, he admires the clean interior. I glance over at him and cock an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Noah says, shaking his head. “It’s pristine in here.”

“It’s the only thing that’s mine,” I say with a shrug as we pull out of the parking lot. “Figured I might as well take a little pride in it.”

“Smart girl,” he says with a grin. “The way we keep our vehicles is a reflection of ourselves.”

“Maybe for us,” I laugh. “There are definitely some people who just use their cars to get from point a to point b.”

“People like us?” he asks, sounding like he’s smirking.

I take a deep breath, doing my best to keep from floundering for an answer. “People whose means of transportation are their safe place. You know, the only place that’s actually your own. Keep up, Noah.”

That makes him laugh, and something triumphant flares in my stomach. Talking with him feels like a verbal sparring match. I’m determined to win.

“Alright, I see your point,” he concedes. Then, he sighs and says, “So how far out is this restaurant?”

“Just a turn away,” I say as I take the aforementioned turn. “There.”

“Here?” he says skeptically, leaning forward to get a better look at the place. “It’s deserted.”

“Most people have already eaten,” I say with a shrug as I pull into a parking spot. “We’re probably the last customers they’ll have for the evening.”

He hums, getting out of the car. True to my word, when we get inside, we’re the only diners there. The host lets us pick our table, and a server comes over to us immediately. When shecomes back with our drink orders, we order our meals and are left blissfully alone.

“So,” I say after taking a sip of my soda, “you’ve been riding your motorcycle all over the country, right? What’s your favorite place you’ve seen?”

A charming smile settles on his face as he no doubt runs through all of the places he’s been. After a beat, he says, “I think Montana might be my favorite state. There aren’t a lot of people, and there’s plenty of natural beauty to be seen.”

“I’ve never been,” I say, drumming my fingers against the table. “I’d love to go, though. It’d be nice to spend some time in nature.”

“It’s therapeutic,” he says fondly. “Riding a bike out in all that natural beauty is good for the soul.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admit, feeling myself blush for some inexplicable reason. “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle.”

“Seriously?” he asks, tilting his head and frowning slightly. “We could fix that if you wanted.”

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