Page 10 of Downward Dawg
Arguing with himself wasn’t getting him any closer to making the call he’d wanted to since he’d finally arrived back home. He’d checked in with the prospect assigned to her detail, and found nothing had happened, which was good news, as well as exactly what he wanted to hear. Then the asshole had to mention how nice she looked in her yoga gear, and for the benefit of the prospect’s health it was a damn good thing they’d been on the phone instead of in person. As it was, that prospect would now be on clubhouse latrine duty for the next month, and the man had shown enough smarts not to argue about it.Just “yes patchholder” coming from him was the right answer.
Mad Dawg flexed his muscles.
President for a couple of days and it’s already making me mad with power.
He laughed at himself.
“So, if I can’t wow her with my decorating and culinary skills, maybe a little road trip would be fun.”
Decision made, he dialed her number, puzzled when her voicemail kicked in.
“Hey, Ella, it’s Dawg. I wondered if you were free for dinner tonight. Let me know. You got my number.” The line clicked as he hit the disconnect button and he studied the screen. It was still connected, and when he put the phone to his ear, he heard Ella’s voice calling his name. “Hey.”
“I just missed picking up the call.” She sounded out of breath, and he wondered what she’d been doing. “Sorry. If you left a voicemail, I didn’t wait to listen to it. Figured you could just tell me instead.”
“I, uh.” His words had flowed easily enough when talking to a machine, and he scowled at the tips of his boots. “Wanted to know if you could eat dinner. Would eat. Dinner. With me.” He rolled his eyes at his fumbling attempts at the English language. “On a date. Tonight.”Not much better, asshole.
“Yes.” Her laughter was breezy, happy, and somehow he knew the sound wasn’t directed at him, but in response to her pleasure at his question. “I’d love to have dinner with you tonight.” Her stringing his muddled question into a single statement made him grin. “I could eat.”
“Cool, cool.” He rolled his eyes again, more frustrated with his fumbling. “I’ll pick you up at your house at seven. Dress warmly, yeah?”
“Okay” came her easy response. “I’ll see you then, Dawg.”
“See you soon, Ella.”
And just like that, the hardest phone call he’d ever had was over. It was almost anticlimactic, but at least he’d gotten through the brief exchange. His sense of relief was way out of proportion to the length of the conversation, and he laughed as he blew out a slow breath.
“I’m an idiot.”
He didn’t even have to think about his agreement with himself.
“Yes, you are.”
Chapter Five
Mad Dawg
Rolling to a stop in front of Elodie’s house, Mad Dawg glanced down at himself.Good deal.No bug guts yet.As per usual, he had on his black leather vest over the jacket. Every time he rode the bike, he flew his colors proudly.
He’d barely put the kickstand down and killed the motor when her front door flew open and Elodie stood there, mouth open wide. With a broad grin she gave him a wave, whirled and petted Chicken, then pushed the dog back as she leaned inside to grab a jacket and slam the door. After double-checking the lock, she shoved her arms into the sleeves of the jacket while she made her way down the short walk, proving she’d listened to his advice to dress warmly.
“We’re going riding? I’ve never done that before.” The excitement in her voice was matched by pleasure on her face, and for the first time all day, Mad Dawg felt confident in his decisions for tonight.
“Yeap, come on over and I’ll give you the rundown on what to do and expect.” He dismounted to meet her beside the bike, and reached one hand to gently push her shining hair out of her face. “First, we’ll cover that pretty noggin so I can keep you super safe.” Holding up a helmet, he rapped his knuckles against it as he showed it to her. “Good choice of jackets, that one should keep you nice and warm.”
She took the helmet from his hands and turned it over, looking at it inside and out. “How does this latch.” She fiddled with the straps. “Oh, I see.” Positioning it over her head, she paused, then handed it back to him. “Well, shoot. Hold on. Give me a minute.” Digging into one jacket pocket, she pulled out a band and began the process of confining her hair. “Okay, now.” With the thick locks pulled back into a low ponytail, she stood in front of him and looked up with a broad grin on her face. Spreading her hands in a wide tah-dah motion, she told him, “I’m ready, Dawg.”
“Oh, Ella. You are somethin’ else.” He chuckled. The helmet was a good fit, and he congratulated himself on the pick as he carefully tightened the chin strap. “Lookin’ good, woman.” Standing back, he gestured to the bike. “Those pegs there are where your feet go. They’ll keep you out of the danger zone for the drive shaft or exhaust pipes. Those suckers get hot fast, so it’s best to avoid touching them entirely.” He slung a leg over the bike and settled himself, then held out his hand for hers. Guiding her into place behind him, he waited for her to wiggle herself comfortable, then grabbed her knees and snugged her a little tighter on the seat.Queen seat is an apt description.Shaking off his internal dialog, he directed with, “Feet on the pegs, and your hands around my waist.” She made an eager noise, and he grinned as she quickly complied with his orders. “Lean when I lean, and I promise on my life to keep you safe.”
“I trust you more than you know.” Her chin was propped on his shoulder, made possible by the slightly elevated position of her seat. “You’ve kept me safe so far. I truly doubt you’d drop the ball now.”
“Your lips to God’s ears.” He started the bike, not surprised when her hands gripped him a little tighter. Turning his head partway around, he caught a glimpse of her shining face.Not afraid then. It’s good she’s excited. I love that.“Ready?” When she nodded, he let the clutch out slowly, rolling them away from the curb.
Before long, they were out of town and onto the country road he’d planned on taking. It wasn’t a far ride to the restaurant, but via this route he could stretch it out over a few extra miles with loads of sweeping curves. This would be a good test to see what she really thought of riding the bike.
By the time they got to the place he’d made a reservation, her hands were still holding him tight, but not with a bloodless clutch that would mean she’d become frightened.
Still, he wasn’t prepared for her to launch herself at him after they’d dismounted the bike, her arms wrapping around his neck.
