Page 41 of Jingle Belle's Biker

“But,” I say, wanting to place my hand, palm flat, on his chest, “that was then. Now I really want to thank you. It’s running, first go, in the cold snap. I mean, it’s cold out there.”

“It’s not winter.”

“Yet. And it’s colder than a—” I stop abruptly.

He’s smirking. “Than a what?”

“Colder than a second-grade teacher’s heart.”

“So warm and mushy, then?”

“Toward you.”

“Ouch.”

I frown as the music switches bands. “I didn’t take you for an emo biker.”

“Are there fucking emo bikers?”

“You.”

The thing is, this man doesn’t blush, doesn’t look embarrassed or abashed. He just gazes at me. “I like music. This was on Spotify. I like to listen when reading. That’s it.”

I nod. “Okay, but if there’s some K-Pop, I’m going to start questioning you.”

“Nope. I don’t know who that is.”

“What are you reading?”

“A manual, nosy pants.”

“Can pants be nosy?”

“Yours can,” he says, then he shows me the cover. It’s old for a bike that looks to be from World War Two with its army green coloring and heavy-duty attachments.

I reach out and touch the cover. “What’s a BMW R75?”

“A bike used on the Eastern front a lot during wartime. I’m boning up on it. I can get a lot of parts, rebuild, and then sell it to a collector. There’s also a German one, the Zündapp KS750. It’s not pretty, but it’s a rare workhorse bike I’ve had my eye on. That I want to build from the ground up from vintage and upgraded pieces and add to my personal collection, but with both of these, especially the BMW, as I can start that soon, I need to know how its heart beats.”

He stops and shakes his head.

“If you say you got carried away, I’d agree, and I also like it,” I say. “I’m familiar with getting carried away.”

“You asked about music.”

“I asked about the bike on the manual too.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “And I came here for a reason. Dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says.

I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a long time. Not the wanting to roll on the floor with laughter type of thing. I surely didn’t expected to be able to laugh so hard with Saint. The man is a conundrum and complex all of himself, yet he’s also very much what you see is what you get.

By that, I mean you see a tough, honest man with intelligence, humor, and the ability to scare the pants off people if he wants to.

If I think back to the night I first met him.

If I think to when he makes jokes about serial killers with me.

Not to mention the offer to rearrange Andrew’s face for Mellie. Okay, he didn’t say that in so many words. But that’s what he meant, and, he’ll do it too if the man touches either Mellie or Pepper.

---