Page 73 of Jingle Belle's Biker

There’s hope shining in those eyes, along with the hurt that shadows behind it. I feel like a complete piece of shit.

Especially when she says, “For what?”

“Belle.” I stop. I’m not fucking good at this. The problem is, the little teacher gets to me in ways that are so unexpected they take my breath.

She’s sweet with spice hidden inside, open, funny. She’s things I never thought I’d want. Never thought I might need.

A fool might say I’m used to independent women, and she’s not that. But she is. Fiercely so. She’s simply a different breed of independent than I’ve ever experienced.

With her, words come easy, and I stumble over them.

Tonight, I should’ve guessed Sin wasn’t out to cause trouble. If she was . . . Belle’s smart enough to handle it. For all the tricky, wild ways that Sin has in stamping me as hers and chasing off what she perceives as threats—things I’ve let her do in the past because I’d never been into those other women who were interested in more than good times with us—were no longer there.

Plus, she’s fair in she knows it’s done, and has known it for a long time. And she never tried anything on me since she showed up.

So, I don’t get my falling over myself, tumbling into unknown territory to try and protect Belle, to keep the thing between us as ours.

“Belle,” I say again, “I?—”

“What?”

“Fuck. I’m not good at this shit.” I run a hand over my head. “I needed to get some things straight with Sin. I don’t need her sitting about like that.”

“I don’t know, she’s pretty hot.”

“Not what I fucking meant.” I take a slow breath. “I don’t want you seeing her in her fucking underwear and jumping to the wrong conclusion. I don’t want her causing trouble. She’s out of here tomorrow anyway.”

She nods.

I smile. “And I’m pretty sure two days are all I can handle folded on that sofa.”

“You’re too big.”

“Yeah, well, I might not be a gentleman, but I was raised right.”

Belle’s silent for a long time.

“Do you want to come in?”

“I do,” I say, my smile growing, “but I wondered . . . would you like to come for a ride with me? A proper one?”

“It’s a school night.”

I raise a brow, and her scandalous look warms me inside. Mainly because there’s excitement hiding in there.

“Live a little, Red.”

Her smile teases. “I don’t know.”

I hold out a hand. “What have you got to lose?”

Belle’s hands wrapped around me as the wind whips is bliss. I like the flirt with uncomfortable, with the carnal excitement that builds.

I’m borderline erection because she’s soft and hot against my back, and the unsteady, wild beat of her heart rings through me.

I pull up at the garage space, and she climbs off the bike. She pulls off the helmet, looking around at the empty street.

While we’re close to a lot of things, this strip shutters down at night, which means if I wanted, I could fix bikes all night long. Last night, I was here late, which is why we’re here now.

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