“Your property seems bigger than all the others.”
“It’s a double lot.”
“Oh,” she mumbled glancing around. The landscape was neutral, nothing flashy. Bushes lined the entry and fresh mulch. It was neat and orderly. It suited him.
He led her up the front walkway. No wreath or welcome mat.
Nash opened the door, ushering her inside the small entry. There was a bench on one side and an arched doorway leading into the garage. Without a door, it gave her a view inside. Charley didn’t have much of an interest in cars or how his garage was stocked. But there was something, a few things actually, that caught her eye. She casually peeked inside.Wow!A small smile emerged, and she stepped forward, taking a better look. With the dim lighting it was hard to see all of them but it was just enough light to showcase Nash’s collection.
“Would you like a tour of the garage?”
She jumped back, sending her shoulder against his chest, and he grasped her hips. This put them in particularly close proximity. His fingers dug into her, and she felt heat race through her veins. Nash’s lips twitched, and he lifted his chin.
“You want to see?”
“I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
Nash dropped his chin to his chest and chuckled. “Not many people show interest in my garage.” He slid his hand across her hip and down to her hand, clasping his fingers through hers. Hand holding didn’t hold much significance for most people, but for Charley, it was intimate. A need to be touching another, even in the most innocent of ways.
Nash passed her, leading her down two steps into the garage. He reached out, flicking the light switch, and the garage was illuminated. She briefly caught sight of two vehicles lined up. But her main focus was the line of motorcycles on the far wall.
“You ride motorcycles?”
His gaze softened, and he shifted his eyes across the garage. “Not as often as I’d like.”
“They’re beautiful.” She walked closer to the bikes and released his hand.
Charley knew nothing about motorcycles, but he had a vast array. A few were obviously racing bikes. Two were black and chrome, resembling the ones she’d seen riding through town by the local MC. She zoned in on the first in line. It was a little older than the others, if she had to guess. That did nothing to take away from its beauty.
She reached out, wanting to slide her hand over the base of the bike but immediately pulled her hand back.
His masculine snicker had Charley looking to Nash, standing a few feet away. He walked closer, gently grasped her wrist, and placed her hand on the bike.
“You can touch it, Charley.”
“I thought there was some type of code that said you can’t touch a biker’s motorcycle.”
“I wouldn’t advise going around and touching a stranger’s bike, but I don’t know of any specific rule.” He cocked his brow. “Ever been on a bike?”
“No, but” —She eyed the bike, feeling the excitement build in her chest— “I always wanted to. Sometimes, I see Ghosttown East riding together. A lot of them have their wives and girlfriends on the back. It looks like a lot of fun.”
“Would you like to go for a ride?”
She whipped her head. “Right now?”
Nash looked over at the bikes. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll change.”
He walked out of the garage, and she continued her perusal. This night was proving to be full of unexpected surprises.
Nash came down a few minutes later in a pair of worn jeans and a tight fitted T-shirt, showcasing his muscular arms. Charleyknew he’d be fit, but this was next level. He walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out two helmets. One was a half-shell, not much protection. The other was the opposite. Full head and face mask. He offered her the larger of the two, and she eagerly grabbed it from his hands.
“Pick one.”
Charley knitted her brows. Pick one? Did he mean motorcycles?
“Oh.” She waved her hand. “I’m just excited to take a ride. Any of them will be great.”
Nash eyed her, almost inspecting, and he gestured to the line of motorcycles. “Pick one.”