Page 30 of Riding the Edge

Ignoring her, I continue.

“You like my tomatoes and basil,” I point out.

“So what, I like to cook.”

“Another thing we got in common.”

Surprised, she comes to a halt.

“You cook?” she questions.

“Wipe the shock off your pretty face, Lady. A man does what he’s gotta do when he wants to eat.”

Throwing her hands up, she blows her blonde hair away from her face and stares at me with an exasperated expression.

“For crying out loud, you call yourself Wolf—”

“You can call me Al if it makes you feel better.”

“There are probably motorcycle parts in your dishwasher and your fanciest shoes have a steel toe. You’re nothing like I’m used to,” she argues, chest heaving as she sighs.

“Leather, once it’s broken in some, can be as soft as silk. Why don’t you try it on for size, see if it’s a good fit before you make your judgments?”

My words resonate with her and the desperation to push me away fades as she looks at me regretfully.

“I’m not judging you.”

“Right,” I laugh. “Look, I get I’m not your kind,” I say, taking a step closer. To my surprise, she doesn’t retreat. Instead, she lifts her chin and meets my gaze. “I’m not going to put on some fancy fucking suit and I won’t try to impress you by taking you to some overpriced restaurant where the portions are small, and the food is shit. What I will do is be myself. I’ll take you to my favorite joint, a little hole in the wall place downtown. I’ll hold the door for you and give you my undivided attention. Take you home and walk you to the door,” I say, pausing to glance down at her shoes. “You can wear your sexy shoes and I’ll wear my worn boots. We’ll turn heads and get people talkin’ but you won’t give a fuck because you’ll be too busy enjoying yourself to give a damn about anyone else.”

“You think my shoes are sexy?”

“That’s what you got from everything I just said?” I ask. My lips twitch as I shake my head “Yeah, Lady, I think your shoes are sexy as fuck.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she purses her lips and crosses her arms before leaning closer.

“You have a filthy mouth,” she points out.

“Thank you,” I reply, openly staring at her lips.

“This is crazy,” she whispers.

“Maybe, but we get one life, Lady,” I say huskily. “Anyone can arrive at their grave safely, in a well-preserved body, but where’s the fun in that. When I leave this earth, you can bet all the fancy china I’m sure you have stowed in your cabinet, that I’m going to skid into the ground sideways, totally worn out from one hell of a ride. Question is, are you?”

Something flickers in her eyes as she contemplates my challenge, and the silence stretches between us.

“I’m off tomorrow,” she replies, straightening her shoulders.

“Seven o’clock.”

We continue to stare at one another idly until she blinks, breaking the trance. Smoothing a hand over her shirt, she motions to the door behind me.

“I’ve got to get back to work.”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, my boots remain rooted as I give her a nod.

“I’m going to head out,” I reply.

She moves to step around me but freezes mid-step. Turning a fraction, she lifts her hand to my beard.

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