Page 13 of When You Rescue your Celebrity Crush

I hike down my dad’s driveway, my skateboard clutched under one arm. I’m not sure why I’m still refusing to borrow a car—probably part of those daddy issues my therapist likes to remind me of. Fortunately, Dad’s property is near the center of the Ranch, so we’re not too far from anything.

Maddie texted an SOS from the wedding chapel—something about the flower arrangements. She didn’t say why she didn’t ask the wedding planner to handle it—with a high-profile client like my dad, I’m sure she’s on-site for the setup. Being the good big sister, I’m off to help, but I’m not in a hurry.

At the bottom of the drive—a little too steep for my skill-level—I set the board down and step on. A little push sends me over the crown of the first gentle hill, and I soar down the slope, flexing my knees and leaning to curve along the meandering bike path.

My speed decreases as I roll up the next hill, so I give a couple of good pushes to put me over the top. As I roll onward, a motorcycle passes going the opposite direction, and the driver raises a hand. I wave back—not because I know him, but because we always wave to other residents at the Ranch. I think it’s kind of a solidarity thing—we know we’ve got a good thing going, and we want to celebrate it with the other lucky folks. Or maybe it’s an automatic reflex. Whatever the reason, we always wave.

The motorcycle tires screech, but I’m picking up speed, so I don’t risk looking. Probably tried to avoid a squirrel. They’re kamikazes, darting into traffic for no apparent reason. I mean, it’s not like the pinecones on the other side are better. As I roll through the dip and up the next hill, the motorcycle pulls up beside me. The rider stops and puts a foot down, so I stop too. I probably should have brought my fanny pack with the autograph cards.

“Nica!” The man pulls off his helmet, revealing a familiar face. He beams at me, and warmth spreads through my chest—why am I so happy to see Matt Hertzsprung again?

“Hi, Matt. What are you doing here?” I glance around, instinctively looking for photographers. Despite the evidence at our first meeting, paparazzi are rare on the Ranch. However, the details of the wedding were leaked, and the Ranch police have reported two trespassers with photography equipment today alone.

Matt’s face turns a little pink. “I was helping a friend.” He waves in the direction I was traveling. “Rob Mead—you might know him? He’s about your age.”

I frown and shake my head. “Doesn’t ring any bells. Of course, I haven’t been here since I was pretty young.”

“I don’t think they lived on the Ranch then. But his parents used to own all this land.” He waves a hand around, as if there should be a plaque commemorating them.

As I shrug, my watch vibrates with an incoming text. “Sorry.” I tap the device and groan as I read the message. “I gotta go help my sister. We’ll have to catch up later.” I’d much rather stay and chat with Matt, but I promised.

“Where is she? Do you want a lift?” He pauses. “I don’t have a second helmet, so we’d be breaking the law.”

I smile and bat my eyelashes, and an automatic reply pops out. “Aren’t you a bad boy?” My face goes hot, and I close my eyes. “Sorry, that didn’t—”

He holds the helmet out to me. “I’m afraid I’m not very bad, and I’m a long way from being a boy, but I’ll risk the citation if you want a ride.”

I pick up my skateboard. “Thanks. But you wear the helmet. If we get stopped, I’m more likely to be able to talk my way out of a ticket. Not that I’m doubting your persuasive abilities, but—”

“No, you’re right. I know all the cops out here, and they’re much more likely to turn a blind eye to you than me. Climb on.” He pulls the helmet over his head, leaving the visor up. “Plus, you know, helmet hair.”

I chuckle as I tuck my skateboard under my arm and straddle the bike. I wrap my free arm around Matt’s waist, my hand sliding up his surprisingly hard abs. He doesn’t wear tight shirts, so I had no idea he had all that going on. I put my feet on the pegs and tap my forehead against his upper back. “Ready!”

He revs the engine but pulls onto the road at a sedate pace. He turns his head and yells back, “Don’t want to give them an extra reason to pull me over. Where are we going?”

My heart flutters. He offered me a ride without any idea how far I needed to go. “Nebraska.” He jerks a tiny bit against my arm, and I laugh. “Just to the chapel.” Did his shoulders sag in disappointment? I lean my cheek against his back as if we’re flying down an interstate. There’s something sexy about riding on the back of a motorcycle, even at this speed, and I’m going to make the most of it.

Too soon, we pull up to the chapel. A dozen cars sit in the lot, casting long shadows as the sun kisses the tops of the mountains. I reluctantly slide my hand away from Matt’s waist and climb down while he holds the bike steady. “Thanks.”

“Do you need any help?” He pulls off the helmet and looks around the parking lot, as if checking for bad guys. “I’m pretty good in a bar fight.”

I giggle. “It’s a chapel, not a bar.”

“That’s good, because I lied. I’ve never actually been in a bar fight.”

“That’s okay—if there’s a fight, it will be between the bridesmaids. Don’t guys have some kind of code that prohibits breaking up girl fights?”

His head shakes a negative. “I’ve never understood that one. Girls fighting doesn’t do anything for me.”

I stand beside the bike, reluctant to walk away. Every time I see this man, my heart does a little happy dance. It feels like coming home after being on location for a month. Warm. Comfortable. Safe. And now that I know about the abs… Putting a hand on his shoulder for balance, I lean in to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the ride.”

His head turns just before my lips brush his cheek, and I plant one right on his mouth. His lips are soft and warm against mine, and we both freeze in surprise. I pull back, and he shifts, too. With my weight against his shoulder, I stumble into him. He braces the bike with his legs and holds me, rock steady.

I stare into his bright blue eyes, only inches from my own. My heart pounds. “Sorry. I didn’t—”

“Don’t be. I’m not.” He chuckles a little. It’s a soft, sexy sound that sends shivers down my spine. His eyes travel over my face, stopping on my lips, then back to my eyes. “Today just became one of the best days of my life.”

My face goes hot. I step back, trying to gain some composure with the distance. “In that case, you’re welcome.” I pull out my phone and spin to lean against his bike. “Smile for the selfie.” I shift so the camera frames us with the chapel in the background. Matt twists to slide an arm around my waist, and I put my cheek close to his. “Say camembert.”

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