Page 2 of Stranded With the Biker

“Gosh, you’re a sweet talker.” She grinned. Her eyes rose, and she batted pretty, long darker red lashes at me before touching her hand to the center of her chest. “Thank you, but I’m okay,” she denied the drink and turned around.

Her attention focused on that bright blue wagon she lugged in every day. I frowned.

“What?”Did she really turn down the drink I bought her?I mean, I knew I hadn’t made the best first impression.Or second or third,that little voice in my head whispered.

But after I helped her pack up her truck last night, I assumed I had made some kind of leeway. Leeway I wanted for god only what damn reason, I wasn’t sure yet. There was a mountain of reasons I should keep my distance. The woman was way to fucking young for me. I wasn’t positive how old she was, but I had a feeling either way, I was old enough to be her father. I winced at the thought, and just like I had noticed, Piper hardly missed a thing. With her attention back on me, probably because I hadn’t walked away when she dismissed me, she tilted herhead, making those curls of hers bounce. Her pretty, pink lips pursed. Almost like she didn’t know what to make of me.

“Why won’t you take it?” I asked roughly.

“Why won’t––“ she started to say and stepped back. “I mean, how do I know you didn’t do something to it?” she asked.

“Do something to it?” I repeated, slightly outraged that she would even think something like that. “Has someone ever done that to you?” I strained, hardly believing I was keeping my hands to myself.

“No. But then again, I don’t take drinks from strangers and people who obviously don’t like me.”

Don’t like her? She thinks I don’t like her. Shit.I scratched the back of my neck.

I liked her, and that was the problem.

I liked her too much.

Fuck. I stared at her. Those pretty, blue eyes that had started to haunt my dreams twinkled at me like she was waiting for me to say something. Anything. I cleared my throat.

“I don’t not like you,” I said out loud, my voice scratchier with every syllable.

I wasn’t used to having to explain myself. I also wasn’t used to having to figure out how to get a woman into bed. That’s what this was, right? I just wanted a hookup. Scratch an itch and work her out of my system.Liar,that truth-telling little voice chirped.You want more than a night, and you know it.I had a feeling you couldn’t fuck a woman like Piper Purcell out of your system. I had a feeling touching her, kissing her, would do the opposite. A woman like her would find a way to get under your skin and stay there.

“You don’t not like me.” Her lips twitched before she broke out into a fit of giggles.

I forced my knees from buckling. I’d seen a lot in my life. Beautiful places in the world many only saw on a screen orin books. I’d seen terrible brain-numbing shit. The ugliest of the ugly. But watching her laugh? The genuine way she did it without reservation or worry, the almost delicate bell sound it made? Fuck, it went straight to my dick.

No. I didn’t want one night, and that was my fucking problem. Shit! For the first time in my forty-two years, I wanted so much more. I was man enough to admit it scared the hell out of me. The smile faded from her face and concern laced her gaze.

“Hugo?” When she said my name, the sound of it shot right through me and settled in my heart.

Shit. How the hell was this possible? I’d fallen for the spunky, curvy ball of energy, and I didn’t even know her. Hell no. This was not what I signed up for when I told Kari I would help her out. I’d call my sister tonight and tell her I needed Vic to trade me spots before getting on my Harley and going on a really fucking long ride.

“Hugo?” she said my name again, and I swallowed hard. “I was just kidding––“ She reached out touch me, but I flinched, making her eyes widen. I sat the drink on her table with a death glare and marched my ass back to my booth.

She could drink it or not. I didn’t care.

Liar.

Piper

Guilt ateat me while I tried not to let my gaze drift to the booth right in front of mine.

Two days ago, Hugo had tried to extend an olive branch with my favorite drink, and I offended him. I didn’t mean to. I’d been sorta joking around, being too sassy for my own good and, well, he hadn’t even wanted me to touch him.

He really hated me. I was sure of it.

Thankfully, today was busier than the day before.

“Thank you for your business.” I smiled and waved goodbye at the couple who had just bought a blanket. I stood and stretched. My lower back screamed at me. It was tight from sitting on what felt like the world’s most uncomfortable chair. Like any time I had a moment to myself, even though I knew I shouldn’t, my eyes drifted over to the busy booth with the bright yellow- and deep black-striped décor.

Bees. It still didn’t make sense.

I mean, the guy was the definition of tall, dark, and rugged. I would have assumed Hugo was more of a guy who liked to work with engines than farming bees. But then again, you knew what happened when you assumed.

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