Heat bloomed in her belly as memories assailed her, the two of them in the hayloft of her nana’s stable, evening light spilling in from the west, making the dust motes sparkle in the air. Everything seemed to have a touch of magic when Bo was around, always had. Ever since the first time she’d met him, when she’d been seven years old and covered in glitter.
She’d been up before the sun, so early it was still dark more than light, the trees a patch of swollen shadows curving toward the sky like the bellies of sleeping giants. Sadie smiled, remembering how determined she’d been that morning, marching across the dew-kissed clover, a glass jar of magic sand in the pocket of her robe.
Glitter. Which she’d planned to use to help her catch a fairy. Sadie had grown up on her poppa’s stories about the Wee Folk and was convinced a colony of the magic people lived in the woods at the edge of the meadow. As the sun began to rise in the east, streaks of purple giving way to pink, she’d known it was almost time.
Her poppa always said the fairies returned home from their nightly adventures with the dawn. It was the only opportunity to catch one. She’d pulled the jar of glitter from her pocket and popped the cap, spilling some into her palm.
Then a voice came from the shadows, unexpected, startling her. She’d stumbled, the jar of glitter flying, coating her in a shower of sparkles. And when she’d glanced up, smearing more glitter across her face as she tried to brush the hair out of her eyes, she’d caught sight of him.
Bo.
Sadie stole a glance at the man walking beside her now, recalling the boy he’d once been. Eight years old. Astride a white horse that looked as if it’d galloped straight off the pages of a fairy tale. His fingers had been tangled in the horse’s mane, his brown eyes shining like two lucky pennies in the morning light as he stared down at her. She could still recall every detail of that first encounter. How he’d smelled. Of leather and horses. Of wet grass and sun-warmed hay. How he’d come from the west, silent as a wraith. She’d believed Bo was one of them. A fae prince.
Brushing stray bits of straw from her dress, Sadie brushed aside the memories. At least she didn’t have pieces of hay hiding in her hair. There were some benefits to her new haircut. Self-consciously, she reached up and attempted to smooth the spiky locks that were probably sticking out all over the place thanks to her impromptu carb-and-cider-induced nap.
Sadie glanced at Bo, watching as he tugged straw from his own hair, taking the opportunity to drink him in while he was distracted. Her thirsty gaze roamed his richly tanned skin, his long sooty lashes, and his eyes that defied description, a shade of brown so light as to be almost golden. Tiger eyes. It was those magic eyes that had convinced Sadie that Bo was fae—a fairy-tale creature—too beautiful to be a real boy.
Emotions bubbled up, and Sadie shoved them back down. She crammed and crammed, mentally smacking the lid of the box closed, hammering it in place to nail it shut. She’d almost gotten everything locked back down when Bo glanced at her, the afternoon light catching the gold of his eyes.
Air hitched in her throat, in that awkward little spot between swallowing and breathing. He winked at her, and the lid blew off the top of her box. In her mind’s eye, she pictured it flying skyward, rotating end over end as it disappeared into the clouds above the orchard.
Well, hell. Sadie forced air through her windpipe and returned Bo’s grin with a weak smile. She was going to need a bigger box.
“Where did Ana and Ryan go?” she asked abruptly.
Bo tipped his chin toward a fenced animal pen. “Ana wanted to feed the goats.”
Sure enough, her best friend was bent over a wooden railing, holding out handfuls of pellets. Standing beside Ana, Ryan’s gaze was glued to her ass.
Lips twitching, Sadie sidled up to her costar. “Enjoying the view?”
“He’s staring at my butt, isn’t he?” Ana asked, not bothering to look up from the white-and-tan spotted goat whose head she was scratching.
“Guilty as charged,” Ryan admitted without a hint of remorse.
“Honesty.” Ana stepped back from the fence, wiping her hands on her recently admired behind. “I like that.”
“I also might have sneaked a peek down your shirt earlier too,” Ryan admitted, his face the picture of earnestness.
“Yeah, I know,” Ana acknowledged with a husky chuckle.
Sadie knew that chuckle. If Ryan played his cards right, he’d be getting more than a peek later tonight. Ana never let anyone get away with ogling her unless she wanted them to. Sadie caught her friend’s eye and a signal passed between them. They’d been communicating without words since their finger-painting days.
Having worked with all kinds of characters, Sadie knew Ryan’s type. A happy, carefree kind of guy. Dumb but not stupid. Not even dumb, exactly. Clueless might be more accurate. Attractive … hot even. But an accessible kind of hot, with warm, friendly eyes and an easy smile. Adorable and lovable. Like a puppy. It was easy to see why the box office loved him. Women longed to take care of him, rub his belly, and give him treats or something. Men too.
“What?” Ryan asked, catching her studying him.
“Nothing,” Sadie said quickly, not about to admit she’d been comparing her costar to a canine. On silent feet, Bo joined them at the fence, and Sadie’s skin prickled with awareness. If Ryan was a puppy, Bo was a fox. A falcon. Something predatory. Not in a sly, cunning way, but in a watchful, serious way. You didn’t want to bring him home to snuggle, you wanted to give him a wide berth and pray you didn’t piss him off.
But at the same time, you couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to get close to such a creature, earn its trust. She’d had Bo’s trust once, long ago. And he’d had hers. But that was in the past. Lost, along with everything else they’d shared. An old, familiar ache burned in the back of her throat. “Did you have fun on the hayride?” Sadie asked, seeking distraction.
“I did.” Ana chuckled again. “How about you? Did you have a nice nap?”
“It was very nice, yes.” Sadie glanced over at Bo, heart catching as she watched him cooing to a charcoal-gray billy goat, who stared up at him with adoring eyes while he stroked a hand up and down the goat’s back. She didn’t blame the creature; she’d be besotted too if Bo were petting her. Sadie turned back to Ana. Her friend raised an eyebrow and another signal passed between them.
“Wow, it’s getting late,” Ana announced. “We’d better get going, I have a ton of baking to do.”
“Baking?” Ryan perked up, as if he were playing bingo and his winning number had just been called. “You bake?”
“Oh, yeah. You know all those apples you helped pick? They need to be turned into a whole lotta kugel.”
“Kugel.” Ryan moaned lustily. “I love kugel.”
“Everybody loves kugel.” Ana chuckled. “We are talking about a pasta cheesecake—two comfort foods rolled into one—that’s Jew magic right there.”
“An old girlfriend of mine used to make it sometimes.” Ryan closed his eyes, clasping a hand to his chest. “Mitzi. God, I miss her.”
“Do you miss her or her kugel?” Ana teased, moving to stand closer.
What Sadie didn’t miss was how her friend used the opportunity to press her boobs against Ryan’s chest. She could watch those two flirt some more, or she could help move things along. “Hey, Ryan, I bet Ana could use some help in the kitchen.”
“That’s a fabulous idea,” Ana purred, patting Ryan. “Tell you what, you can come over to my place and help me bake.” She let her fingers trail up his arm, lingering over the swell of his muscles. “And I’ll let you have all the kugel you can handle. Do you know how to heat up an oven?”
“I’ve been told I’m good at turning things on.” Ryan wrapped his hand around Ana’s, helping her give his biceps a good squeeze.
Sadie couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping. These two were perfect for each other.
Ryan glanced over at her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Wasn’t Ana planning to give you a ride home?”
“I’ll give Sadie a ride,” Bo broke in.
“You will?” When she’d jumped in to help Ana score some time with Ryan, she hadn’t considered the logistics.
“I will.” Bo met her gaze, and Sadie thought she caught a challenge in the glint of copper shining in his eyes “If that works for you.”
“Didn’t you come here on a motorcycle?” she asked, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t like she could forget how he’d looked as they’d pulled up next to him in the parking lot. The image of Bo, standing next to his bike, leaning against the sleek curves of chrome and leather, looking cool as fuck and hot as hell, was burned into her brain.
“Yeah, I rode my bike. Is that a problem?”
There was definitely a challenge in his eyes. She’d seen that look before, many times. Usually right before he dared her to do something risky.
“The problem”—she balled her fists at her hips—“is that I don’t have a helmet.”
“You can use mine.”
“What will you wear?”
“Are you serious?” He raised his eyebrows. “You do remember what I do for a living?” Bo shook his head, dismissing her argument. “Trust me, sweetheart, I can take one ride on my own bike without a helmet.”
He had an answer for everything, didn’t he? So smug, so infuriatingly confident. She’d been looking for excuses, a reason to stall, and he’d knocked them down with ease. Sadie bet Bo knew exactly what he was doing too.
“Fine,” she snapped, wishing she still had some hair to whip around. “Let’s go.” Sadie stomped off toward the parking lot, not waiting for the others to follow. She was acting like a petulant child, but she didn’t care. He always could get a rise out of her.
In the best and worst ways, Bo knew exactly how to push her buttons.
* * *
Bo hurried to catch up to Sadie as she marched across the grass.
“Here.” He handed her his jacket. “Wear this.”
“Why?”
“I know it’s warm today, but it’s going to get chilly once we get on the road. And if anything happened, this would help protect your skin.” He eyed her bare legs. “It’d be better if you were wearing jeans, but—”
“What? You’re going to give me yours?” She slipped into his jacket and shot him a sassy little smirk. “Should we trade? You wear my dress and I wear your pants?”
He should say yes, just to yank her chain. He almost did. Bo didn’t have a problem putting on a dress. No, the problem was he liked how she looked in that dress far too much. Not to mention he was looking forward to having her bare thighs pressed against him. “I’m good,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“If you say so.” She mimicked his stance, folding her arms, chin notched at a cocky angle.
Bo smothered the smile threatening to break across his face. She’d kill him if she thought he was laughing at her right now. And he wasn’t. Not exactly. It’s just, she looked so ridiculously adorable, standing there in his jacket, hands lost somewhere in the sleeves, the bottom of it reaching past her knees, longer than her dress.
On second thought, it was probably for the best he hadn’t taken her up on the offer to trade outfits. That dress of hers wouldn’t leave much to the imagination if he wore it.
“Everything okay here?” Ana called, interrupting their standoff.
“Yep, everything is peachy,” Sadie replied, voice acid and sugar at the same time, like the candy his abuela always gave him. Sweet on your tongue, but with a kick that made your cheeks feel like they were being pinched from the inside.
“I’d make a joke about picking apples, not peaches, but I can’t think of one, so pretend I did.” Ryan grinned.
“Then I’d make a joke about low-hanging fruit,” Ana countered. She turned to Bo. “No fancy stunts on that thing, okay? That’s my best friend you’ve got there.”
“And my costar,” Ryan added.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Bo assured them.
“This best friend and costar can take care of herself,” Sadie huffed, reaching for the helmet hanging from his handlebars.
“Of course you can.” Ana leaned in for a hug.
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.” Ryan clapped Bo on the shoulder. “See you next week. We start filming at the stable, right?”
Bo nodded. “You’ve ridden a horse before?” He assumed the studio wouldn’t have cast the guy unless he had some equestrian experience, but actors were known for inflating their resumes. “Equestrian experience” could translate to rode a pony once at the town fair.
“Oh, yeah, plenty of times.” Ryan waved his hand with exaggerated casualness.
“Western or English?” Bo pressed.
“Western. I’ve never been able to handle myself in one of those prissy English saddles. It’s like surfing on half a board.” The actor slanted him a smile that said he was aware of Bo’s little test, before hopping into the passenger seat of Ana’s car.
After the convertible had taken off, leaving nothing but a puff of gravel dust in the parking lot, Bo turned back to Sadie. She was still struggling with the helmet, trying to adjust the visor.
“Here, let me help you.”
“Mmmpfh.”
“Huh?”
“Mmmpfh mmmfff mmm!”
He flipped the face shield up. “What was that?”
Violet eyes glared up at him. Sadie tugged at the lower half of the helmet, pulling it away from her mouth. “I said this thing is too heavy! What’s it made of—Sheetrock?”
“Fiberglass, mostly.” He checked the helmet’s fit, making sure it was secure. “It’s a little big, but you’ll be fine. And yeah, I know it feels heavy at first. You’ll get used to it.”
“But—”
He flipped the face shield back down, effectively cutting her off. Nice. That was convenient. Bo popped out the passenger foot pegs on the rear of the bike. “Now listen, when you get on, you need to put your legs exactly where I tell you. I don’t want you accidentally getting burned by the exhaust pipes. And stay away from the muffler.” He indicated the areas to avoid. “And when I stop, don’t try and put your feet on the ground. Keep them on the pegs. Got it?”
The helmet bobbed back and forth. Bo hoped in understanding.
This was a bad idea. Why had he been so quick to jump in and offer to give her a ride home? There were too many variables here, too many things that could go wrong. Shoving his doubts aside, he took a breath and climbed on his bike. Since it was already done, the best thing he could do now was focus on what could go right.
“When you’re ready,” he told her, grabbing the handlebars and flicking his chin over his shoulder, indicating she should get on behind him.
Faster than he’d expected, Sadie climbed on. Bo dug his boots into the gravel, bracing his legs and maintaining the bike’s balance while she adjusted her weight, straddling the seat behind him. She tucked the ends of her dress beneath her, securing it around her thighs before pressing her legs against his.
He reached back and grabbed one of her hands, tugging it over his hip. “Hold on tight, but not so tight you can’t maintain your own balance.”
The helmet bumped against his shoulder blades as she nodded again.
“That reminds me, if you need to get my attention, like if you need a break and want me to pull over, squeeze my leg. Twice, like this.” He gripped her thigh and slowly squeezed and released, and then did it again.
Jesus. The feel of her beneath his fingers, the contrast of smooth soft skin and firm lithe muscle. Bo’s mouth went dry.
“If it’s an emergency,” he added, voice rasping a little, “and you need me to pull off the road immediately, then squeeze three times very fast.” He wrapped his hand around her leg again and squeezed in three quick successions.
She raised her arm and gave him a
thumbs-up.
“Okay, then.” He put the bike in neutral and opened the choke. “Here we go.” Bo jumped down on the starter.
The engine roared to life, and he revved it a few times, warming it up. Sadie scrambled closer. Her thighs pressed hard against his, arms clamped around his waist. “Not too tight, remember?”
Immediately, she loosened her hold. “That’s it,” he praised her, not sure if she could hear him over the rumble of the motor. He wasn’t too worried. Sadie had been riding horses since she was a child; he knew she could handle riding a mechanical one.
Bo walked the bike backward out of his parking space. As he’d instructed, she kept her feet firmly planted on the pegs. Beneath the cool leather of his jacket, her breasts pressed against his back. At the base of his spine, he could already feel the heat of her seeping through his jeans. Sweet Lord, this was going to be a long ride.
Slipping on his sunglasses, Bo gathered himself and prepared to endure the hour drive back to the city. He swung the bike through the parking lot and headed east, the late afternoon sun riding low behind them.
They’d been on the road about thirty minutes when Sadie squeezed his thigh, twice, slowly. A break, but not an emergency. He nodded. After another mile or so, a gas station appeared over a rise. Bo checked his mirrors before switching lanes and pulled into the tiny parking lot.
He cut the engine. Behind him, Sadie wiggled off the bike. He was pleased to note how she diligently kept her legs far from the areas he’d warned her about. After easing the bike onto its kickstand, Bo dismounted.
She was struggling to escape the helmet.
“There’s a trick to it,” he said, helping her slide it off.
“Thanks.”
They were standing so close, Bo could feel the soft rush of air on his skin as she sucked in a breath. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair stuck up in every direction, a rebellious army of golden spikes. His fingers itched to smooth a hand over the messy locks, to trace the delicate line of her nose and chin. Bo cleared his throat. “Why did you want me to stop?”
Sadie tilted her chin and studied him. “Do you know where you’re going?”
Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 11