Meet Your Mate (A Good Riders Romance Book 1)

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Meet Your Mate (A Good Riders Romance Book 1) Page 10

by Floyd, Jacie


  “Ma’am.” The detective took her measure with a flick of his eyes.

  “One of my neighbors is on the Vice Squad,” she said. “Jim Dennison? You know him?”

  “Maybe,” Kirby grudgingly allowed. Just like Jim, Kirby had mastered holding his cards close to his chest.

  Max shot her another quick grin. “And this other ne’er-do-well is Dr. Bruce Townsend, He’s an immunologist doing AIDS research at the University.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.” She swallowed back a big dose of embarrassment. “That’s a fascinating field.”

  Bruno reached out to shake her hand. “Plenty of challenges.”

  “He’s close to getting FDA approval on a faster-acting experimental drug that inhibits the condition with fewer side-effects.”

  “Wonderful,” she managed to choke out as she looked around. There were trees aplenty, but now she wanted something bigger to hide behind—like a mountain. She two-stepped to the side, but Max clamped his hand onto her shoulder. He wasn’t going to let her off that easy.

  “No, it’s my pleasure, but call me Bruno.”

  “Bruno, then.”

  “And did I mention that Dick is a judge?” Max asked so smugly she wanted to kick him in the shins. Or higher.

  “No, I don’t think you did.” Her annoyance with him for misleading her made it difficult to squeeze out the words.

  “Then, officially, I’d like you to meet Appellate Judge Richard T. Ubecki.”

  “Judge Ubecki, of course. I’ve seen your picture in the paper many times, but I didn’t recognize you without your robes.”

  “You just keep right on calling me Dick. As you might guess, we don’t stand on ceremony here. To keep everyone on the same footing, we leave our titles at home.”

  “You look a little shell-shocked there, Annabel.” Max rubbed a hand up and down her spine, and she jerked away. “Something wrong?”

  “N-no.” She felt winded but determined to stand her ground and own up to her mistake—somewhat. “I guess I had the wrong impression of what kind of people ride Harleys and belong to motorcycle clubs.”

  “Common mistake,” Bruno said.

  “You should see the way people race to lock up their valuables when we pull into a small town,” Detective Kirby said. “And we bring more law enforcement with us than they could muster on their best day.”

  “Contrary to the media stereotype,” Dick added, “most of us aren’t rebels or outlaws. We ride to get away from the stress of our jobs and raise money for local charities—not to loot or terrorize the locals.”

  “After the risks some of us take at work,” Bruno put in, “this seems tame in comparison.”

  “Spending the day with you has sure opened my eyes.” Annabel prayed they’d never know how blind she’d been.

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself,” Bruno said. “A lot of outsiders—females, especially—don’t like to come to these all-day events.”

  “Usually a two-hour ride is as long as my wife can last, bless her heart,” Dick said.

  “You’ve sure been a good sport, Annabel,” the detective praised. “Come ride with us again anytime.”

  “First, we have to finish this one.” Max glanced at his watch.

  “Spread the word to mount up.” Dick’s voice rang with authority she now recognized sprang from the courtroom and not from the life of a drug lord or biker chieftain.

  As she climbed up behind Max, Annabel left the visor of her helmet up. She needed to let the wind blow the rest of her misconceptions out her head.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Max told her at the end of the day. The whole group had circled back to The Hoghouse for a post-ride bonfire and pig roast. “None of them knew what you were thinking.”

  Standing with Max in line for the delicious-smelling food being cooked in the open air, the flames from the roaring fire threw additional heat onto her cheeks. She pressed her palms over them again, knowing she deserved the laughter he tried to suppress.

  “Come with me.” He cupped her elbow. Guiding her away from the food, the fire, and the ready-to-party riders, he led her through the cool air and down a path to a lookout over the river.

  The softness and romance of twilight crept around them, but she barreled right through it, focused on her inner turmoil. “You told me to keep an open mind, but did I? No-oo.” She cringed again. “I wanted to behave less sensibly—not senselessly.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Some of them dress and act the stereotype to promote the image on purpose. It gives them a chance to break loose and forget they spend their weekdays as one of the suits, kissing corporate asses and playing by the rules.”

  “You don’t.”

  He studied the river undulating around the bend, then turned to lean against the rail. “Everybody does in some way or another.”

  “Maybe so, but I wanted to fit in with the club. I thought I was on the adventure of my life, and I wanted them to like me.” She wanted him to like her. “But I had to start judging them, looking for a way to keep them at arm’s length. What an idiot I am.” Pacing back and forth, she pounded one hand with the other.

  “Are you done yet?” Max hid a yawn behind his hand.

  She’d expected him to react with jokes or sympathy or even logic, not boredom or impatience. Embarrassed by her outburst, she stopped pacing and studied her toes. “I guess.”

  He pulled her around to face him and lifted her chin on his finger. “Annabel, most people accept you at face value. If you’re aloof and snooty, that’s how you’ll be treated. Today, you looked and acted like a normal person, not like someone above having a good time. You made mistakes, but you didn’t poker up or demand to be taken home or call the police, any of the things the regular Annabel would have done.”

  She closed her eyes, embarrassed to admit, “I thought about doing all those things.”

  “But you didn’t, and the people here liked your attitude. You heard them ask you to come again.”

  “I thought they were just being nice.”

  “Don’t count on it. There’ve been lots of guests who started a ride and called for someone to come get them at the first stop. You gutted it out, and everyone respects that.”

  “Do they?” Do you?

  “Sure, even me.”

  “Thank you.” His comment raised her spirits, as if she’d earned a gold medal. Thinking back over the day, she let herself feel a little bit proud of how far she’d stepped out of her usual parameters. There was one thing she still wondered about though. “I still haven’t figured out how the silver Cadillac fits into the day’s events.”

  “Not in any way you need to know about.” Max’s voice hardened and cut through the space between them. “Forget you ever saw that, okay?”

  Not likely. The license number burned a hole in her pocket. Watching him closely, she detected no humor in the grim set of his mouth. Well, okay, then. She could take a hint. Best to change the subject. “At least, I didn’t suspect everybody I met of dealing drugs.”

  His eyes crinkled up at the corners again. “Who did you exclude?”

  “A couple of people I talked to while you skulked off to your secret meeting. I met a nice trauma nurse named Janice Winston. And Larry Munson. His daughter goes to school with Carly.”

  “Like I said, Good Riders are just regular people with a hobby.”

  “That gorgeous fireman seemed above reproach.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “Because he was gorgeous?”

  “No, because he was nice. Is he single?”

  “He’s new to the club. I don’t know much about him, but I’ll find out for you, if you’re interested.” He spit the words out.

  “No, just curious.” She smiled a little, tickled by his annoyance. “I liked Dick, Tim, and Gabe, too.”

  Max snorted. “Just how over-protected were you growing up?”

  “I didn’t get out much, but they’re your friends, and I thought they seemed nice.”

&n
bsp; “Dick’s great. A handy guy to know, and he’s been married to the same woman forever. Gabe’s a champ. He works in marketing at P&G and he’s a computer genius. Everybody likes him, and he just got engaged to a real looker. But watch out for Tim. He’s a shark. Financial and otherwise.”

  With the sun dipping below the horizon, the temperature cooled noticeably. Annabel wished for the jacket she’d left on the bike. She crossed her arms and hugged them against herself to ward off the chill. “I thought he was your friend.”

  “He is. Pretty good one, too.” He draped an arm around her and pulled her close, enveloping her in his warmth. “But that doesn’t mean I’d want one of my sisters to go out with him.”

  Craning her neck a couple of inches back, she peered all the way up at him. “How many sisters do you have?”

  “Two.”

  Why did that surprise her? It wasn’t like she knew everything there was to know about him. Actually, she didn’t know much, but he seemed so independent. She couldn’t quite picture him with a regular group of relatives—parents, siblings, cousins. “Where do they live?”

  “Nashville.”

  “Where you’re from?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, that explains the mysterious drawl you take on and off like a pair of sunglasses.”

  “All the big news markets expect their reporters to sound like everyone else.” He grimaced. “When I’m not on-camera, some of the Southern-ese tends to creep back in.”

  “Mostly when you’re being a tease.”

  “Do I tease you?” The finger he trailed along her cheek did just that.

  “All the time.” She leaned in the other direction, away from the inclination to wrap herself around him. “But I’m on to that trick.”

  Accepting her withdrawal, he held up his hands and shoved them into his pockets. Unfortunately, the move took all of his glorious warmth away, too. “Dang, soon you’ll be on to all my little secrets.”

  “Do you have many?”

  His shrug was all shoulders. “No more than most.”

  But he did and excelled at hiding them behind a mask of nonchalance and a killer smile more cleverly than she hid hers behind old-maid clothes or in the editing room. “Tell me about your family. Do you have parents?”

  Bleak shadows flickered behind his eyes. “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “No.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, yeah, okay. My mother split when I was four. Dad gave up a promising music career to sell insurance during the week and pump gas on the weekend to keep us fed.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I hear Ma’s running a health club in Florida with her third or fourth husband. Dad’s retired, still in Nashville, bouncing grandkids on his knee and picking up the occasional gig on the weekend.”

  “Sounds nice.” Annabel’s older sister hadn’t been back to Cincinnati in years, and they’d never been close. If she didn’t have Carly, she’d have no one but a prickly aunt from her father’s side and some scattered cousins on her mother’s.

  He frowned. “On what planet?”

  “Mine, I guess. Messy, maybe, but real. Life at my house was very serene.” At least, on the surface. “Sterile. Isolated.”

  “What happened with your folks?”

  “My parents were professors at the University of Cincinnati. Mother was philosophy. Father, literature. They spent lots of time reading and thinking deep thoughts.” She mulled over how much or how little of her stifling home life to reveal. “My childhood memories include years of stiff propriety and polite indifference followed by lingering illness.”

  “Any sisters and brothers?”

  “One sister, Elaina. Older.”

  “Is she as…um, conservative and responsible as you?”

  “No, they were nearly forty when they adopted her, and she turned out to be a handful. A few years later, much to her surprise, Mother got pregnant with me. By then, Elaina’s liveliness had exhausted their limited supply of parental energy. I countered that by being as little trouble as possible. She left to study art in Europe after high school. I stayed home to care for our ailing mother. Not long before she died, Father fell ill, too.”

  “Tough break.” The arm he’d removed a few minutes before crept back around her, pulling her close and warming her up again. “What would you have done instead, if you’d had the choice?”

  “Film school in New York.” She didn’t hesitate with her response, but lately she wondered if she would’ve had the guts to take such a big risk. Would she have braved going out on her own in the big city?

  He grunted in understanding. “Is that why there weren’t any boyfriends? You were too busy nursing your parents?”

  “Yes, but even before that... they were very strict with me. I guess they thought they were too lenient with Elaina, so I wasn’t allowed to go out much. When I did, I never fit in with the other kids. Kind of like today.”

  “You fit in.” He grinned. “Sort of.”

  “You know I was out of step all day. Everybody but me knew what was going on. And I blew several unrelated, innocent incidents all out of proportion.”

  “Maybe I should’ve clued you in sooner than I did.” At least he had the grace to admit that

  “Yes, you should have, you rat.” She gave him a half-hearted punch in a very muscular arm. “You knew what I’d assume as soon as you said we were going somewhere with a motorcycle gang.”

  “I said club, not gang.”

  “How was I supposed to know the difference?” She pushed against his immovable shoulder, trying to put a little space between them.

  She expected him to push her back. Instead, he pulled and brought her against his broad chest with a thump.

  “So.” He laced his fingers together at the nape of her neck. “Did you like my idea of a good time?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I would never have picked it, but it was fun.”

  “You want to try it again?”

  The intensity of how much she wanted to try it again frightened her. He made her want to do things, feel things, take risks she’d never attempted before. For one day, it had been fine. But did she dare continue? With a sinking heart, she didn’t think so.

  She opened her mouth to tell him so, but before the refusal escaped, his lips covered hers. Gentle, at first, then firmer and more demanding, the kiss managed to suck all thought from her head, all air from her lungs, all good intentions into the vapor. She leaned into him as he pulled her closer, spinning helplessly from the sexual chaos he created inside her.

  His strong arms enveloped her. Hands moved everywhere. Hers along his ribs, and his under her T-shirt. Years of suppressed desire exploded within her. Textures that had never seemed so vivid before, so erotic, now provided sensations that took her to the edge. The soft denim of his shirt and the rasp of his jaw incited her with a need so great she forgot who she was, who he was, and where they were.

  The heat that engulfed her didn’t abate as he lifted her shirt and the evening breeze caressed her breasts. His hands skimmed the lace cups of her bra and drew a groan of pleasure from her. As his head bent forward to tease her nipple with his tongue, cheering erupted from down the hill.

  “Oh my God.” She tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Can they see us?”

  “No.” He held her against him with his hands at her waist. “They’re probably announcing the winning poker hand.”

  A tug of war developed over the position of her shirt. For every inch he tried to raise it, she pulled it down two. “We can’t do this here.”

  “Fine.” He surrendered her shirt. The soft warmth of his breath nuzzled her neck and lulled her into momentary acquiescence. “We could go to my place.”

  “Why?” She sounded like the world’s biggest dummy as the word emerged from her mouth and his meaning dawned on her. Full on heat washed through her as she pictured going to his apartment and opening herself up to the kind of pleasures she knew h
e could provide.

  She wanted to, oh, how she wanted to, but she knew herself well enough to know she’d never be able to indulge in such a carnal encounter with someone as worldly as Max. Everything about the idea scared her to death. She would be overwhelmed by him, and he would find her lacking in so many ways. Setting aside her regrets, she gathered herself together and gave him the good manners her mother had taught her. “Oh, no. I couldn’t, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Don’t go all Martha Stewart on me.” He looked at her with eyes that sharpened to clear focus from the blurry haze of passion. “Just tell me why not.”

  “I’m flattered. Maybe.” Having never been propositioned by someone with his reputation, she couldn’t be sure how she did feel. Flattered that he wanted her. Intimidated that his desire included so many others. Insulted that she was just one more in a long line of easy women who succumbed to his charms. “But it won’t work. We’re nothing alike. We’re too different. We want different things.”

  “You wanted the same thing I did a few seconds ago.” His fingertips stroked the base of her neck, urging her to reconsider.

  With each passing second, she grew colder. “I changed my mind.”

  “All I want is for you to go home with me for the night. I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment.”

  “Well, that’s good.” She forced false cheerfulness into her tone. “Because I’m not interested in anything serious.”

  “You think I am?” His voice rumbled with incredulity.

  “No, no, I know I’d just be another bump in the road for you.” She paused for a denial, but forged on when he didn’t offer one. “But you’re a distraction I can’t afford right now. It’s time for me to concentrate on my career.” It sounded lame even to Annabel, and as the warmth of his hand dropped away from her neck, she almost recanted.

  “That’s bull, but that’s fine.” He turned on his heel and started down the path toward the party. “You tell yourself whatever you want.”

  “It’s nothing personal.” She raced to catch up with him.

  “Sure, it is, Morgan. It’s very personal, but don’t worry. I could take it as a compliment. I didn’t realize you found me that fascinating. I’ve known women who wanted to use me as a stepping-stone in their careers, but no one’s ever considered me an obstacle before. In fact, if you’d played your cards right, I might have been able to help you out.” The accompanying shrug was as indifferent and as insulting as the insinuation.

 

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