Page 91 of The First Spark

With a grunt, I push open the truck door and walk into Black Lotus. A few heavily inked patrons glance over from their perch on the couch when I enter before returning their attention to the television.

“Hey Ori, what’s up? Don’t tell me you have an appointment.” Braden walks over, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

I smile up at him. “No, but I do have a favor to ask.”

“Anything for you.”

He’s such a cutie. Why couldn’t I have a crush on him?

Ah, right, because that would make my life easier, and I have sworn an unspoken oath to never allow that to happen.

“My truck is dead, and I need a jump. I figured one of you might have jumper cables.”

Braden glances out the window and nods. “No problem. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time.”

There’s no sign of Ash as I cast a quick glance about the place. Better that way since I get all flustered, flushed, and stupid when I’m around that man.

Just like every other woman in town.

The man probably has a stack of deeds and presents a mile high, and all it costs him is a sexy smirk and a few hours of playtime.

How difficult his life must be.

I return to my truck and grab my phone. Time to catch up on some doomsday scrolling—anythingto get my mind off the tatted man who turned my world upside down. A dose of online petty grievances feels like the perfect distraction.

A knock at my driver’s side window damn near sends me through the roof and I pitch my phone across the truck’s interior before my brain catches up, reminding me that Braden said he’d be out in a few minutes.

“Shit. Braden, you scared me the hell out of me.” Placing my hand on my chest, I release a heavy sigh and glance over. “You’re not Braden.”

Ash grins and shakes his head. “Thanks for noticing. I hear you’re having some car trouble, Little One. Pop the hood.”

I hate Ash’s nickname for me. Okay, to be fair, I love it, but I hate that I’m likely one of dozens of women with that assigned moniker.

I do as requested before jumping out of the truck,burrowing my face into my coat to ward off the evening chill. “Question.”

“Answer.”

“Isn’t that your bike over there?” I point toward the shiny chrome beast parked in front of Black Lotus.

Ash shoots the motorcycle an almost reverent glance. “That is not just abike. That’s my custom Harley Road King, and she’s built to perfection. A ton of blood, sweat and tears went into that beauty.”

I bite back a smile at his protective overture toward the mass of steel. “So, is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes. Do you ride?” Ash chuckles as he rakes a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on me.

He needs to stop looking at me like that. It does things to me—all manner of things.

“I’m this big,” I reply, holding my hand next to my head. “I couldn’t even touch the ground on that thing.”

“So, that’s a no?” Ash volleys back.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle. Not once in my life. Cue the shock and awe.”

His dimples deepen as a smile stretches his face. “Unacceptable. We’ll have to fix that. I’ll take you on a real ride sometime, show you how much fun you can have.”

“Didn’t you already do that the other night?”

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