by Gemma Weir
I feel the tension seep from his muscles the moment my fingers grip onto his shirt. Before I have a moment to second guess my decision, the engine flares to life and we pull off and into the line of early evening traffic.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been on a bike; I had an ex with a sports bike who would occasionally take me out on the back but riding with him was more necessity than pleasure. Riding with Justin is exhilarating. The wind rushes past us, the world flying by, and there’s not a single thought in my head except that this is the most free, the most quiet, the most at peace I’ve ever felt.
I don’t know how long we ride for, or where we go, but when Justin slows and turns into a quaint restaurant, the facade lit by oil lamps that glow bright against the now darkening sky, I’m smiling widely.
We roll to a stop in the small parking lot at the back of the restaurant and I wait for Justin to cut the bike’s engine before I use his shoulders to steady myself and climb off. My knees feel a little weak as my feet hit the floor, but my body is full of endorphins and I feel amazing. “That was incredible,” I gush, excitedly.
Justin’s gaze is serious and intense as he unbuckles my helmet, lifts it off, then claims my lips with his. The kiss is slow and sweet, and combined with the adrenaline from the ride and the beautiful night, I swoon, melting into his body and gripping his shirt to keep myself upright.
Yet again, Justin is showing me a different side of himself: the bike, the kiss, the possessive cavemen proclamation that we’re together that I haven’t really allowed myself to think about yet. Everything is pointing to the fact that I’m a stupid judgmental bitch and he is nothing like I assumed he was.
When he pulls back, I don’t open my eyes. I take a moment and bask in him, and how it feels to be this close to him. Allowing my eyes to open, I find him looking down at me, his eyes hooded and filled with lust. My stomach tightens and heat starts to build within me. “You should have come in the truck,” I say with a wink.
My words shatter the intensity and he blinks, then laughs. “Not tonight, you little horn dog,” he says, placing my helmet on the seat of the bike and dropping his arm across my shoulders. He leads me onto a terrace, set with tables with white table cloths and candles burning in glass hurricane lamps.
A waiter gives us a bright smile and tells us to sit wherever we want. Justin leads me to a table for two, pulls out my chair, then sits down opposite me. I stare at him. He should look entirely out of place here, but somehow his huge hulking body looks comfortable and relaxed in this romantic environment.
“You’re not what I was expecting,” I say, the words slipping out before I can swallow them back.
I expect him to take offense, or at least scowl, but he smiles. “What were you expecting?”
“For you to be an asshole,” I say, my words a little too honest around him now that I’ve finally stopped lying.
“I am an asshole,” he says, smirking again.
“Maybe, but not to me.”
His expression sobers and he leans forward, toward me. “No, not to you.”
Staring at him intently, I try to figure him out, but he refuses to be put in any of the boxes I expect him to fit into.
“You’re not what I was expecting either,” he says, breaking the tension that seems to have descended over the table.
“What were you expecting?” I ask, repeating his words back to him.
“For you to be nicer.”
I flinch, his words hitting their target. I don’t want to play this game anymore, so I let my eyes drop.
“Riley.” The single word is filled with regret and I lift my head and flash him a fake smile.
“I was a bitch. I’m sorry and I’ll try not to do that anymore.”
I don’t know when he moves, but the next thing I know he’s kneeling at my side. This huge, beautiful guy is on his knees on the floor for me, but it shouldn’t be him apologizing, it should be me. His palm cups my cheek, his thumb lifting my chin up so my eyes are forced to meet with his. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to mine, quick, hard and punishing, then he stands up and moves back to his chair.
The waiter arrives a moment later, welcoming us to the restaurant, handing us menus and taking our drinks orders. When he leaves, I sigh, lean my elbows on the table and rest my head on one of my hands.
“What are we doing here, Justin?”
“Can’t you just call me Smoke?” He asks, exasperated.
“I can’t,” I say, my face scrunching up in a grimace.
“You did yesterday,” he says, a cocksure grin twitching at the edges of his lips.
“A gentleman wouldn’t mention that.”
“I never said I was a gentleman, baby,” he purrs.
My mind tries to wander to what happened between us in his office, but I slam the mental door shut, close my eyes for a second, and clear my throat. “You never answered my question.”
Justin sighs, then leans back in his seat, relaxed. “We’re having dinner, Riley, just dinner.”
“Just dinner? Then what was all that back at my work?” I ask. “I’m Smoke, Riley’s man,” I say mimicking his voice.
His laugh is loud and free and his face splits into a wide amused smile. “Is that what I sound like?” He asks, his voice shaking.
“Yep, exactly like that,” I say, my face expressionless.
Another bark of laughter escapes him and for some reason the sound of it makes me relax. Settling into my chair, I lift my face from my hands and tilt my head to the side. The waiter arrives, delivering my Martini and Justin’s soda. We both thank him, then place our food orders, waiting until he leaves to speak again.
“So what’s it like being a triplet?” Justin asks.
“What’s it like being a human?” I retort, then sigh. “Sorry, it’s just the moment I tell someone that I’m one of three they always ask the same question. But in answer it’s fine; I’ve never been any different so being a triplet is just normal to me.”
“Do you get on with your sisters? Anna and Tiffany?” He asks.
My mouth falls open and I blink. He remembered their names. I’m sure I only mentioned them in passing and he remembered. “We get on great, they’re my best friends.”
“Do they live in New York too?” He asks, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a drink.
“No, Tiffany still lives in the town we grew up in near Ann Arbor and Anna’s in Massachusetts at Harvard med.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Every single day. Anna isn’t that far from me, but her work schedule is insane; she’s doing her residency and she works like an eighty-hour week. Tiff is a full-time mom to my niece Tilly and she’s expecting her second baby in a couple of months time.”
“Do you go visit her much?” He asks.
“Not as much as I’d like, but we can only be apart for so long until it starts to affect us. I know a lot of people think the connections that twins and triplets share is bullshit, but at least for us it’s not. Tiff’s been exhausted with this pregnancy and both Anna and I have felt it. If we go too long without being close to each other we all start to become depressed and after a while we all get sick. The moment we’re together again we feel better.”
“Holy crap. Not gonna lie, that weirds me out a bit.” Justin says.
I laugh. I can’t help myself. “I know. It’s so crazy, but it’s true. I was supposed to be going home for a visit when this contract came in, but the money was just ridiculous. I couldn’t say no. I’m going to have to try to swing a visit back soon. I can feel the distance between us.”
Our food arrives and for a moment we both just eat, the silence not awkward or uncomfortable. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” I ask.
Justin shakes his head. “Nope, just me and my mom. Not sure who my dad is; he was gone before the line turned blue on the pregnancy test. My mom’s pretty amazing though; she’s more than enough.”
“Does she live in Archer’s Cree
k?”
“No, she’s in Walnut Grove, a couple of towns over. She moved in with her boyfriend about a year ago.”
“Do you like him?” I ask.
“Bob’s a good guy, he treats my mom well, and he’s got a good job, so Mom doesn’t have to work anymore. Her health’s not been great for years, but she’s happy and that’s all I can ask,” he says, softness coating his expression as he talks about his mom.
We spend the rest of the meal just talking, asking each other questions about the other’s life, getting to know one another. It’s nice, normal, and unexpected, and when we arrive outside my hotel, I’m not ready for the night to end.
Justin kills the bike’s engine and I climb off, unfastening the helmet and handing it to him. Hooking the strap of the helmet over the handlebars, Justin climbs off and steps toward me. My hotel is behind me, my room and my bed only a handful of floors above us.
Anticipation zings through me as I tip my head back and look up into his handsome face. I want him. My body is eager to touch him, to explore without the anger that’s fueled our last two encounters. Stepping into his body, I lift one hand and place it palm down on his chest. “Do you want to come up?”
I watch as several different emotions flash through his expressive eyes, then he closes his lids, hiding the window into his thoughts from me. Tipping his head back he inhales, then exhales slowly, shaking his head, his lips pinched tightly together.
When he looks down at me and opens his eyes, I can already see the regret swimming in them. My heart flutters, and I drop my hand, taking a step away from him. Reaching out he catches me, stopping me from retreating any further.
“I really fucking want to. Fuck, I really fucking want to, sweetheart; but I’m not going to.”
“Okay,” I say, my tone clipped.
“No, no, don’t do this. I don’t want to come up to your room because I don’t want you to convince yourself this is only about sex. We both know that the sex is fucking unbelievable, but I want more than just your body, Riley. I like you. A lot. Not gonna lie, that is freaking me the hell out. But what I do know is that when you find something worth fighting for, you fucking fight. This, us,” he says, pulling me into him, until my chest is pressed against his. “It’s worth fighting for, and I don’t want to fuck it up. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you, Riley, and see if this thing between us could be treasure, precious and rare; the kind you only ever find once in a lifetime.”
My mouth falls open and I stare at him. He thinks we could be treasure. I’ve never had a guy look at me the way Justin’s looking at me right now. I never even knew it was possible for someone to look at you as if you were the answer to all of their hopes and dreams. I’m terrified and shaken and yet this sense of rightness is there right next to the fear. I want to take this risk with him. He’s everything I should be running away from, but somehow he’s pulling me in, tying me to him, and I’m useless to resist.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow, but can I take you out again on Wednesday night?” He asks.
I nod, not sure I can form words.
His smile is blinding, wider than I’ve ever seen before. His fingers touch my chin, tipping my face back and leading me toward his waiting lips. This kiss is soft and sweet and full of so much hope, I can almost taste it. When he pulls away from me, I’m not ready for the kiss to end, so I twist my fingers into his shirt and try to pull him to me again.
“Fucking treasure,” he whispers, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
His lips touch mine again, a barely-there kiss that does nothing to assuage my need for him. “Come up with me, we can talk afterwards,” I say, with a flirtatious smile.
“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” he says, lifting my hands from his shirt and placing kisses on the back of them before he takes a step back and turns to climb onto his bike.
Sighing heavily, I turn to leave, looking back at him over my shoulder. “Goodnight, Smoke,” I call.
Smiling, he shakes his head. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
I’m not sure how I do it, but I walk away. That night my dreams are full of him and romantic words and when my body shatters into orgasm, it’s with his name on my lips.
I’m either the cleverest or stupidest motherfucker on the planet. Riley fucking Prince just asked me to go up to her room, more than once, and I turned her down. I have no idea how that just happened, or why on earth I let the woman that I’m craving more than anything else in the world walk away from me again when I could be up there, losing myself in her.
I don’t know where all those fucking words came from. When I opened my mouth, they just poured from me. Every ridiculous, romanticized thought that’s sprung into my head since the moment she first mouthed off at me came out. I said we could be treasure.
I’m not sure if I should be mortified at all of the bullshit or sit my ass down on the curb and try to figure out how the hell I just found my woman and then turned down the chance to really make her mine.
She’s supposed to be going back to New York in a couple of weeks, but I’ve watched her slowly become part of this world and I don’t think it will be hard to convince her to stay. That is if she’s feeling half of what I’m feeling.
Climbing back onto my bike, I start the engine and use the noise and the vibrations of the machine beneath me to center my frantic mind. What the hell am I feeling for her? I know I want her. I know that’s not something I’ve ever really experienced before.
She makes me want to prove to her that I’m not who she thinks I am, that I’m not a douchebag who will hurt her just because I can.
When she climbed onto the back of my bike tonight, something settled inside of me. I’ve never even considered having any other woman ride with me; that was something I always planned to save for my old lady, so she would know that she was the only person I’d share this life with.
Have I really decided that Riley is that person? The answer comes instantly. Yes. She’s the most complex, confusing woman I’ve ever met. She has a body to die for, an attitude that would rival any biker I’ve ever met, and she is fucking perfect.
Perfect for me, perfect for this life, just perfect.
I want her to be mine. No, I need her to be mine, and I’ll fight to convince her that I should be hers.
Wednesday takes forever to arrive, and when it does I spend the day counting down the hours until I can go to her. I texted her yesterday morning, but didn’t get a reply until late afternoon. She’s a terrible texter and I got one-word answers and delayed messages all night.
I’m hoping she isn’t over-thinking things. Riley strikes me as the type of girl who can talk herself out of anything given enough time. I don’t want to give her a chance to end this because her mind is running at ten thousand miles a minute and she’s convinced herself that I’m going to hurt her.
At just after four pm my cell beeps signaling a new text.
Riley: If we’re still on for tonight can you get me from my hotel instead of the office?
Me: Sure, what time?
Riley: Whenever you want, I’m ready when you are.
An eager grin spreads across my face and I’m out of the door, my keys in my hand a minute later.
Me: Be there in twenty minutes.
I make it in eighteen minutes and by the time I pull up to the curb outside the hotel, she’s already sat on the wall waiting for me. By the time I slow to a stop, she’s walking toward me, a scowl plastered across her lips. I open my mouth to ask her what the matter is, but without a word, she uses my arm to steady herself and climbs on behind me. I watch her warily as she takes the helmet I offer her, then she wraps herself around my back and rests her cheek against me.
Reaching for her hand, I squeeze it, then pull forward and into traffic. I don’t know what’s happened, but she’s using me for comfort, or at least that’s what it feels like, and right now, all I want is for her to be okay.
I don’t know her well enough to know w
hat will make things better for her. Hopefully soon I will and when she has a shitty day, I’ll be able to help. But right now, I can only do what always centers me, so I drive. I push my bike forward and let the road slip past us with no real destination in mind. I ride for the sake of riding and hope that somehow the peace this makes me feel will somehow pass through to her too.
An hour later, I pull into a rest stop that has a diner, motel, and bar and kill the engine. Riley doesn’t let go of me and I wonder for a minute if riding was the wrong thing to do. I was trying to help, but maybe an hour stuck on the back of a motorcycle was actually a stupid idea.
“Baby,” I call quietly. “You okay?”
She doesn’t speak, but I can feel her nod against my back.
“Climb off,” I say, then wish I’d kept my big mouth shut when her hands slide away from my waist and her heat leaves me.
I watch as she undoes the helmet, and places it back on the seat. Her long hair is shielding her face from me and I can’t stand it another minute longer, I need to see her eyes. They’re so expressive, and without seeing them I have no idea what’s going on inside her head.
Climbing off, I move to her, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear, then tipping her face up so I can see her. Her eyes are full of anger and sadness. Has seeing me done this to her?
“What’s the matter? Has something happened?”
“He fired me,” she spits out.
“What?”
“Dan Winters, the owner of the company I’ve been working for. He fired me today.”
“Can he do that? I thought you only had a couple of weeks left on your contract?”
“Exactly!” she cries, throwing her hands up into the air for emphasis. “I do. My two months is up at the end of next week, but today he called me into his office and told me that he was terminating my contract early. He didn’t even explain, he just said that they no longer required my services.”
“What the fuck? Are you going to lose out on any money?” I ask, anger starting to bubble up inside of me.
