Home to Me Page 41

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

She twisted around and placed her hands on his hips. “Hi.”

He leaned down until he felt her breath. “Hello.”

Damn, she tasted good. Summer and apple pie good.

When she started to melt, he pulled away. “We won’t be going anywhere if we start that.”

Erin licked her lips and twisted back around.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and kept her in his arms. “What are we having?”

“You said you weren’t picky.”

“I’m not.”

“Good. It’s a surprise.” She zipped up the backpack and scooted it aside.

“Speaking of surprises.” He put a little space between them and handed her the package he’d brought. “For you.”

She looked at the box. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you.”

“It’s not my birthday.” Erin tugged a finger through the tape holding the wrapping paper in place.

“I think you’ll like it.”

She pulled apart the paper, sat the box on the counter, and opened it. Her jaw slacked. The red leather jacket came out of the box and went straight to her cheek. “This is beautiful.”

“If you’re riding with me on mountain roads, you need the right clothes.”

She handed it to him and turned around so he could help her put it on. “When did you have time to get it?”

One arm at a time and she twisted back in his direction.

The fit was perfect.

“I had a little help. I did some recon online and called Parker when I found a place in town who had this in stock.”

Erin pushed past him and over to a mirror she had by her front door. “You had Parker go shopping for you?”

“I needed a woman to help with sizing. I’d screw that part up.” He walked to her and zipped together the sides of the jacket. He stopped just shy of her breasts and took the liberty of making sure the girls were properly displayed.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“This is fantasy stuff right here.”

She turned back around, twisted to look at the back in the mirror, and then smoothed her hands over the front. “I love it. Thank you.”

Yeah . . . he did, too. “My pleasure. I have one more surprise.”

“Matt!”

“It’s necessary. Trust me.” He looked around her place, grabbed the backpack. “You ready?”

“Let me set the alarm and I’ll meet you outside.”

He stepped out and shut the door. Seconds later she joined him by his bike, and he handed her his second gift. “These helmets have a built-in communication system,” he told her. “Check it out.”

Erin pulled the helmet over her head. It, too, was red to match her jacket. There was a whole lotta sexy wrapped up in one woman. “This fits better than the other one.”

“It’s meant for a woman.” He reached for his helmet.

“You mean you bought this for me?”

He winked. “You said you liked the bike, and, honey . . . I’m going to do everything I can to keep that going.”

He adjusted his and helped her with hers and then activated the Bluetooth headsets. He turned away and whispered, “Hey, sexy.” He was rewarded with a pat on his ass.

Facing her again, he asked, “Can you hear me?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“This way we can talk while we’re on the road.”

He helped her with the backpack, started the bike, and counted his lucky stars when she straddled the bike and him in turn. “Let’s do this.”

She held on, and he took off.

He took her up Angeles Crest and into the forest. Unlike other parts of the world, Southern California forests weren’t densely wooded and filled with lakes. Most of the time the temperature didn’t even drop as they climbed the altitude needed to call a hill a mountain. Still, it was a break from the city and great roads to show Erin the fun one could have on a street bike. He wondered if he could interest her in camping in the desert once the weather cooled in the fall. From the way she was holding on and the ohhs and ahhs he heard in his earphones, he figured he had a chance that she would.

Once they reached the ridgeline, he kept going past the burn areas of the past season’s forest fires, and he found a day camp area that he knew was up there. He was also aware that the place was almost always deserted. In fact, there weren’t any cars in the small lot, and the only thing he could hear once he cut the engine was the wind in the tall trees above his head.

They walked hand in hand down an overgrown path to a creek that was still flowing after the heavy rains they’d had all winter. It was by no means something they would want to go into, but it did make for a nice sound and a sense of serenity.

“This is really beautiful, Matt.”

“I haven’t been up here in a while. Glad to see it’s still being maintained despite the lack of visitors.”

They found a shade tree, and he stretched out a small blanket he’d rolled up and put on the bike before he left his place.

She unzipped her new jacket and put it to the side.

“Have you always ridden a motorcycle?”

“Yeah. We grew up on them. Dad was a motorcycle cop, and he made sure we all knew how to ride early on.”

“Even Grace?”

“Yup. I’m the one who kept it going after we grew up and moved out.” He explained that his father had a bad spill that resulted in a long hospital stay, and his mom nixed family vacations that involved motorcycles, but he’d never lost the passion for riding.

“You like the adrenaline rush,” she told him.

He nodded. “Guilty. And it’s in everything I do. My job, the bike, my vacations.”

They talked for some time about the high-octane adventures he’d been on and how his buddies he’d met through firefighting were all similar in their hobbies. “It’s rare to find a woman who likes it, so imagine my excitement that you’re asking to go out.”

“I’m probably being naive about the dangers.”

“There is risk in everything. You minimize that by being smart, wearing the right gear, and paying attention on the road.”

She handed him a sandwich. “You pay attention to the road, and I’ll be mindful of where I rest my hands.” She peeked over her sunglasses, suggestion written all over her face.

“I multitask better than most men, feel free to rest your hands wherever they land.”

They ate lunch in the shade and talked. Erin asked a lot of questions about him. What was his childhood like? The best and worst parts of being a firefighter? The list went on. It dawned on him that she asked another question every time he presented one of his own.

“Enough about me.”

“I like talking about you,” she said, smiling.

He was leaning back on his elbows, the food forgotten. “Did you always want to be an editor?”

She shook her head, then nodded, and shook it again. “Not of novels. I thought I wanted to be a reporter. I like research and writing. I fell into editing fiction.”

“Do you like it?”

She shrugged.

Matt took that as a no. “So why not get a job as a reporter?”