He held it out for her and she slipped her arms into it, immediately catching a faint whiff of another woman’s perfume.
She wasn’t going to ask. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper and she felt him watching her.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He hooked the edges together and zipped her up like a little kid.
Clearly, he could hardly wait to get back on his bike. Piper would have smiled if her lips hadn’t been numb with fear.
“And the helmet.” He handed it to her.
She turned it over in her hands and tried to figure out how it worked. It shouldn’t be that hard.
“Piper Scott, you’ve never ridden before.”
She gave a quick shake of her head.
“You are in for a treat.” He took the helmet from her and positioned it to go on her head. “It’s like you’re flying. After a while, you’re part of the machine and you don’t even think about steering. You just do.”
Piper held her head up, bracing for the helmet. “My mother would just love you.”
He grinned and lifted the helmet. “No one has ever said that to me.” Then he noticed her expression and lowered his arms. “Why do I get the feeling it isn’t a compliment?”
She stared at the bike, remembering. “My mom loved motorcycle guys. And men with pickups, too. I spent my childhood watching them drive into and out of our lives. Unfortunately, they always left with a lovely parting gift from Mom. Usually cash. Usually cash we needed for something else. And then when mom realized they weren’t coming back and neither was her money, we’d move so she could ‘get a fresh start.’ The fresh starts usually happened at night and we could only take what we could cram into the car.”
Mark was silent for several beats. “I’m torn between stating the obvious—that I’m not one of your mom’s boyfriends—and asking what kind of bikes they drove. I think I’ll settle for saying I’m sorry you went through that.”
He made her smile. “Big and noisy,” she told him.
“The bikes?” He laughed and hoisted the helmet once more.
He showed her how to kind of roll it onto her head. She waited while he made a few adjustments to the fit, and fastened the chin strap for her.
“Feel okay?” he asked.
No. But she nodded and forced herself to walk to the bike.
Piper was pretty sure she didn’t have any repressed memories of scary rides, but the sound and the size of the machines had frightened her when she was little. When she was older, she’d associated motorcycles with unhappiness and the dread of losing her friends when she and her mother made the inevitable move.
She felt dread creeping through her now, even though Mark had kept up a soothing stream of reassurances and instructions she hoped he’d repeat because she sure wasn’t in a state of mind to remember.
He swung his leg over the saddle and for a microscopic instant, Piper understood why bikers had appealed to her mother. The jeans, the boots and the fitted jacket emphasized his leanness and gave him a dangerous air. Not that Mark needed the outfit to look dangerous.
“When you’re ready, put your hand on my shoulder, swing your leg over and hop on back.”
Right. He’d told her to wear jeans, but he’d also told her they were meeting his friends, so Piper had gone out and bought a new pair of the same brand of jeans Toni had been wearing that day at Friezen Burger.
Not a lot of give in the oh-so-flattering jeans. Piper wasn’t going to be hopping anywhere.
“Once you’re in place, put your feet on the passenger foot pedals, here.” He pointed to little bitty bars that he’d folded out. “Be sure and keep them there because you don’t want to burn yourself on the exhaust pipe.”
No, she didn’t want to burn herself on the exhaust pipe.
Awkwardly, she approached the bike and drew on the gloves. All righty, then. Piece of cake. But as soon as she braced her hand on his shoulder, Mark started the engine and she was hit with a wave of nausea.
No, she couldn’t do this. Piper clawed at her helmet, dragging in lungfuls of air as soon as it was off. The exhaust smell didn’t help. She backed away.
Mark immediately killed the motor. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t.” She swallowed, feeling better now that the thing wasn’t actually running. “I’m not the motorcycle type.” She thrust the helmet at him. “Wait here and I’ll follow you in my car.” She struggled to pull off the gloves.
“Piper.” He spoke calmly and without heat.
“I’m sorry. Don’t make me do this.” Piper was trying not to look hysterical, while at the same time letting him know she had no intention of getting on his motorcycle.
“I’m not going to make you do anything.”
She breathed easier, even though she knew he wouldn’t have forced her to ride the bike.
“I do want a favor. And you can say no.”
“What?”
“Will you sit behind me? Just while it’s parked. I won’t even start it up.”
He was pulling the desensitizing stuff. Fine, she’d sit on the stupid bike. Always assuming the jeans would allow her to. “Okay. But I’m not putting the helmet back on.”
“We’re not going anywhere, so you don’t need to.”
Gingerly, Piper approached him, and with the help of Mark’s quiet reminders of where to place her hands and feet, and the miracle of stretch denim, Piper swung her leg over the bike and settled into the saddle behind him. And she did mean settle. The most intimate parts of her body were snug against Mark’s hips.
Although he said nothing, she felt him tense. In this position, she could feel everything. Warmth from their bodies permeated her hips and upper thighs. Heat from touching him came from the inside. She wanted to rock against him and let the friction create even more heat. Being able to actually think about something other than being on a motorcycle astounded her. Lifting shaky legs, she propped her feet on the passenger pedals and eased her body away from his a little. Still touching, in places, but not, well, smushed.
“How’s that?”
Close. “Well, have you ever ridden behind?”
“Sure, I’ve been a passenger.”
“It’s like that.”
He laughed.
Maybe it wasn’t quite the same. Mentally, she reversed positions with her sitting in front and Mark pressed against her from behind. Yeah. She shivered.
“Are you comfortable?”
Not the word she would use, what with the tight jeans and a hot guy between her thighs. “I don’t feel as though we’re going to fall over, but we’re not moving. And I’m not suggesting that we do,” she added hastily.
“It’s very steady.” Mark had his feet on the ground and moved the bike from side to side.
Piper gasped and grabbed his jacket.
Mark stilled. “You either can use the handgrips, hold my hips or wrap your arms around my abdomen. That makes it easier for me to lean into curves.”
She just bet it did.
He started moving the bike gently and bounced a couple of times. Gradually, Piper relaxed her death grip on the hand holds, but grabbed at Mark again when he tilted a little too far to one side.
She figured he was doing it on purpose to encourage her to hold his waist, but Piper wrapped her arms around him anyway.
* * *
MARK CLOSED HIS EYES when he felt Piper’s arms sneak around his waist and her body relax against his. He savored the sensation, disappointed that it wouldn’t last as long as he’d originally planned.
He’d never thought she’d be scared of motorcycles and he’d wanted to share the experience of something he loved with her. Discovering he could still ride had made all the painful months of physical therapy worth it. It wasn’t the specter of walking with a limp that drove him; it was the thought of never riding a bike again. Amazing how losing one small chunk of muscle could have such a lasting impact.
He’d been achy this morning and he’d ache tomorrow. He didn’t care.
He was riding again.
“Thank you,” he heard from behind him. “You’re very patient.”
“No problem.”
He heard a sigh. “You can turn on the engine. I know you want to.”
His heart beat harder, but he said, “Not unless you’re comfortable.”
“Ha. I’ll never be comfortable, but go ahead. Just don’t move!”
“You’re not wearing a helmet. My passengers wear helmets.” He waited, but when she didn’t ask for it back, he started the engine.
“It tickles,” he heard and smiled.
It was nice the way they could sit there, engine idling. He didn’t have to be somewhere or make some connection or race off to beat the competition for a story. He could just sit and be.
One of Piper’s hands slid perilously close to eyebrow raising territory on its way to the helmet he held in his lap. She tugged it and he handed it back to her without asking if she was sure. She was a big girl. If she wasn’t sure, she wouldn’t be putting on the helmet.
She tapped his shoulder. “Just to the end of the block.”
Mark nodded and turned around to check her helmet before easing the bike forward. She tensed, but he kept the speed slow and stopped gently at the end of the block. She pointed to the right and he guessed she was telling him to go around the block, but when he got to the end she pointed left. Still going well under the speed limit, he gently turned, feeling her tense with each movement. They kept going until Piper pointed to a deserted medical center parking lot and Mark knew she wanted to practice.
They remained in the parking lot until Mark felt Piper’s body stay relaxed during practice turns, stops and starts.
He pulled beneath a tree and cut the engine. “Where to?”
She drew a breath and said, “Let’s go meet your friends—if we’re not too late.”
He gave her a huge smile, which she couldn’t see because not only was she behind him, they were wearing helmets.
Pulling off his gloves, Mark removed his helmet and signaled her to get off the bike, then got off himself.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Not a thing.” He unsnapped her chin strap and she pulled off the helmet.
Smiling, he gazed into her eyes, knowing she could see everything he felt. “Thank you.”
And then he kissed her.
He didn’t hold back. This was a barn burner of a kiss. He kissed Piper the way a man kisses a woman who makes him happier when he’s with her than when he’s not. The way a man kisses a woman who beats back a lifelong fear because she doesn’t want to disappoint him. The way a man kisses a woman he’s falling for and doesn’t care if she knows it.
That kind of kiss.
Piper’s cold lips quickly warmed beneath his as she threw her arms around him and kissed him back. Emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for a very long time flared to life. Mark drew her close and deepened the kiss. His tongue found hers and he explored her mouth with the same eagerness that she explored his. He tasted sweet passion, but that was the only sweet thing about his kiss.
There was no turning back and she knew it as well as he did. No pretending it didn’t happen, not when she was making those little sounds deep in her throat and standing on tiptoe to get closer.
Heat spread through him. He moved his hands against her back wishing the leather jacket he’d lent her didn’t fit quite so snugly. But she shifted and his fingers encountered a strip of bare skin above the waistband of her jeans. He stroked it until he felt her laugh through the kiss.
“That tickles,” she breathed against his mouth.
“Do you like tickles?” he asked.
“I could. Depends on who’s doing the tickling. Or what, ’cause that bike has some seriously good vibrations.”
“Oh, Piper.” He gripped her in a tight hug, content to hold her close. To cherish her. To let go of that part of himself he always protected because he’d been disappointed so many times. Holding her, he felt an easing within himself. He could relax because she wouldn’t hurt him.
And if that didn’t scare him, then he was in a lot deeper than he’d suspected. He was sending all kinds of signals here and if he didn’t intend to follow through, then he should back off pronto. He should back off, anyway, because they were out in public. Again. Mark smiled and brought his forehead to rest against hers. If they were ever alone when they kissed, it would be incendiary.
“Hey,” he whispered and drew back. “Let’s go meet my friends.”
She nodded and waited while he got on the bike. “Mark? Did you kiss me like that because, well, in case something happens while we’re riding and you never get the opportunity?”
She was still scared, then. Mark wished he could wrap her in bubble wrap for this first ride. “No,” he assured her. “I did not kiss you because we’re about to embark upon a dangerous journey from which we might not return.”
“You’re laughing at me,” she grumbled as she put on her helmet. By herself.
“I’m trying hard not to laugh. No, I kissed you because…” Belatedly, he realized he shouldn’t have started the sentence until he knew the answer.
“Because…?”
Because I’m falling in love with you. But he couldn’t say that. Not before walking away in a few weeks. He stared down at her. “For the same reason you kissed me back.”
She fastened her chin strap. “That’s a good reason.” She put her hand on his shoulder and got on behind him, wiggled around some and wound her arms around his waist. “Let’s go!”
* * *
“THIS IS CHIP AND THIS is Lexie.” Mark bent down and patted the heads of two largish mixed breed dogs. “Did you two think I’d forgotten you? I’d never forget you.”
“Man’s best friend. Very clever,” Piper said.
Her first motorcycle ride had ended with yet another surprise when Mark pulled into a no-kill animal shelter. “I come here and play with the dogs,” he told her. “They need to get out and interact with humans. It’s good exercise for me, too. Working my leg on machines is one thing, but I need to test it with real-life twists and turns.” He was squatting by the animals, who’d both rolled over so he could scratch their bellies. “Good dog,” he murmured repeatedly, allocating one hand to each. “They just want to be loved. Their people abandoned them and they don’t know what they did wrong.” He rubbed their necks and scratched behind their ears.
“Are you talking about yourself or the dogs?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I know how they feel.” He looked up at her with those blue eyes she could lose herself in. “Do you like dogs?”
He probably asked because she hadn’t petted them or anything. “I don’t know. We didn’t have pets.” She watched him move his hands over the dogs, who were still panting from their joyous run to greet him. “I don’t dislike them,” she added.
He gestured. “Pet the nice doggies, Piper.”
She knelt beside him and rubbed a tummy. That earned her a lick and not from Mark.
“Chip likes you. He’s got good taste.”
“Or maybe I just taste good.”
“That, too.” Mark’s eyes darkened and Piper knew he was remembering. She was remembering, too. For several seconds, they gazed at each other, and then looked away.
They petted the dogs in silence. Piper stole a glance at Mark. He seemed as happy to see the dogs as they were to see him. A cynical part of her pointed out that he could be trying to make himself look good, but why would he bother? No. Just look at his unguarded face and relaxed body. This was the real deal. The real Mark sharing something with her.
And she fell just a little more in love with him because of it, darn it. How did Dancie think this was going to help her? Was she supposed to rank “loves dogs” higher on her perfect man compatibility questionnaire?
Finally Piper asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
Mark smiled to himself before glancing at her. “A date?”
She blinked at
him. “It is?”
He winced. “As we’ve discussed, I don’t ‘date,’ but I thought an afternoon ride and a stop here would be better than conversational ping-pong over dinner.”
“It is!” Surprisingly, even with the shock of actually riding a motorcycle, she meant it. “But usually, there’s a heads-up.”
“You mean like, oh, say, a hot kiss in a parking lot?” His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“Well, yes.” She concentrated on picking bits of grass out of Chip’s fur. “But I meant something before the actual date begins. I thought you wanted to discuss the last group you interviewed.”
He scratched behind Lexie’s ears. “Nothing to discuss.”
“There is, since you keep rejecting everyone.” Chip nosed her hand because she’d stopped petting him, so she patted his head and rubbed his tummy again. “You just want attention, don’t you?” She looked up at Mark. “Both of you.”
“Hey.”
“Well? When are you going to stop rejecting everyone I send you?” Piper asked.
“When are you going to send me the person you really recommend?”
“I recommended them all!”
He shook his head. “When you find the right person, you won’t hide her in a group.”
Busted. “I didn’t want to take a chance that you’d reject her just because you’re trying to make a point.”
“And what point would I be making?”
“That you’re Mark Banning, important world-famous journalist. You don’t want to work with anyone and since you’re being forced to, you’re not going to make it easy. You want BT to realize that not just anyone will be good enough.”
“True,” he readily admitted. “But if there had been a real standout, I would have approved her.”
Piper tilted her head and squinted at him. “Really?”
He squinted back. “I like to think so.”
“Okay, because I actually have two I think are equally good, but in different ways.” Piper told him a little about them. “Frankly, Mark, if you can’t work with either of these two, then it’s because you don’t want to work with them.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Lexie stretched and rolled over. “Maybe I should just take Lexie with me. You’d like to work with me, wouldn’t you, Lexie?”
Tall, Dark & Reckless Page 15