Page 46 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

“This would be easier if you dropped the gown,” I teased.

She swallowed and looked away. “I…”

She didn’t say anything after that, and I realized that I should stop.

If she needed the privacy, I would give it to her.

I’d give her just about anything right now. Anything as long as it didn’t have to do with me leaving her.

Fifteen minutes later, we were dressed and standing next to my bike.

I stared at it, wondering what in the hell I was supposed to do now.

“I don’t know if this is allowed or not,” I admitted, looking from her to the bike and back again.

She laughed softly, then walked over and got onto the back of my bike, as if she’d done it a half a million times.

But she hadn’t.

When was the last time I’d had her there? At least a year. Two or three? Possibly when we went out to eat at a restaurant to celebrate Cannel’s arrival back home.

Holy shit.

Feeling my stomach somewhere in the vicinity of my knees due to it sinking there, I straddled the bike and started it up, only then realizing that I had no clue where we were going.

“Where am I taking us?” I asked. “I have the address, but without pulling out my phone…”

She gave me directions, and not once did she scoot close to me.

Though, that was fairly normal when she rode on the back of my bike.

She never wanted to get too close.

Then again, that was something that she always did.

Something she’d always done since the moment that I’d married her.

The next stoplight we were at, where she pointed that I should take a right, I reached backward and bodily moved her so that she was snugly against my back.

“You’re making me scared being all the way back there,” I admitted. “You shouldn’t be on the bike in the first place, but with you that far back, I have no way to control you if anything happens.”

Meaning, if we went down, she would go no matter what, because I wouldn’t have her where I needed her. Against me.

She gasped at the move, and then slowly, hesitantly, her arms went around me exactly how I wanted them to.

“Now, which way did I need to go?” I asked.

She started to lift her hand from my chest, but I held it steady.

“Just talk to me, beautiful.”

So she did.

Turn by turn, until we arrived at the Airbnb she was renting.

It was a nice place on a shady, tree lined cul-de-sac.

The worst house on the block was hers, and that was only because the yard needed mowed, and the weeds that were notorious for growing an inch in a day obviously chose this day to do it.

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