A Risk Worth Taking (8 page)

“We’re
gonna tear up the creek trail. Make sure it’s clear for Friday.” Casey winked.
“You coming or what?”

I
shifted my weight side to side, trying to think of another worthy argument. I
couldn’t say no. Not when it meant wind and speed and most importantly, an
escape. I wasn’t going back in that house until she was gone. And the
cornfields were out. Casey would only follow me down there. Or worse—send
Frank.

Finally,
I blew out a breath and walked over to unstrap the half-shell helmet. “Yeah,
I’m coming,” I said.

Casey’s
eyes crinkled with what must’ve been a grin inside his helmet. With his right
hand, he revved the throttle and the engine roared. I strapped the helmet
underneath my chin and put a hand on Casey’s shoulder, about to swing a leg
over the back.

“Nah,”
Casey said, shaking his head. “This one isn’t stable enough for two. You should
ride with Ford.”

My
eyes narrowed instantly. “What do you mean ‘not stable enough?’” I’d never
heard of a bike not being stable enough for two. Not when the seat was big
enough and passenger pegs were there. This one had both.

Casey
shook his head again. “I’m serious. It’s been giving me trouble with extra
weight. You should ride with Ford, just in case. I don’t want to dump you.”

I
chewed my lip. Casey knew his way around anything with an engine. Either he was
full of shit and wanted to see me ride with Ford—although why he cared so much,
I hadn’t figured out yet—or I’d learned even less than I thought I had in all
my time hanging in the garage. Either one was entirely plausible but since I
didn’t have proof, and I was already wearing the helmet …

“Fine.
Whatever.” I turned on my heel and marched over to Ford. “Casey says I have to
ride with you.”

He
blinked. I couldn’t see his expression behind the helmet and it unnerved me.
“Then I guess you have to. If Casey says.”

I
put my hands on my hips. “How long have you been riding?”

“A
few years.”

“Be
specific.”

“Okay,
um. Four years, give or take. My uncle used to motocross so he had a bunch of
tricked-out dirt bikes we messed around on.”

I
didn’t allow myself a mental picture of Ford in tight motocross pants. I could
do that later. When I wasn’t required to carry on a conversation with him at
the same time. “And you’ve ridden with passengers?” I pressed.

“Yes.”

“Off-road?”

“Is
there going to be a test later?”

“Not
killing me is the test.” Before he could argue, I swung a leg over the side of
the seat, balling his shirt between my fists and sliding on. I settled myself,
staring at Casey and trying very hard not to think about the smooth hardness of
abs underneath my fingertips.

“Ready?”
Casey called out.

“Let’s
do it,” Ford yelled back.

Frank
gave us a military-style salute and Casey twisted his throttle, kicking up a
cloud of dust in our faces. Using one hand, I returned Frank’s salute
begrudgingly. With the other, I held on as Ford gunned the engine, kicked it
into first gear, and took off. When the momentum caught, I was thrown forward,
my chest hitting firmly against Ford’s back. I wrapped both hands around his
firm middle and held on, catching myself before our helmets could crack
together. Dammit, I was riding like a complete newbie.

And
where was I supposed to put my hands again? I looked for handles beside me but
there was nothing. These little bikes didn’t have the big bars like street
motorcycles did. And Casey liked these better. They were lighter, easier to
whip around and make airborne. I normally agreed. But no handles meant I had no
choice but to grip Ford around the ribs and pretend it didn’t send a tingle of
nerves from my fingertips all the way to the tip of my scalp.

Ford
could ride. I’d give him that.

Not
once during our dip-and-turn through the woods did I worry he would dump me or
lose it. He was competent and careful but not so cautious I didn’t get an
adrenaline rush when he down-shifted to take a left curve sharp and fast.

“Wooo!”
I yelled when the bike righted itself underneath me and we sped up.

I
felt rather than heard Ford’s laughter as his torso shook beneath my arms. I
smiled along with him. It’d been too long since I did this. The rush of a
motorcycle was the best. No time or space to think about your problems, much less
dwell on them. Nothing could eat at you out here. It was only you and the
machine and the trail in front of you. Get too distracted and you’d miss
something important like a mud hole or tree stump and go flying.

Before
we even reached the creek, my anger had melted off. I’d known it would, but
instead of fading from the love of a bike ride, it was being slowly replaced
with the heat of straddling the small space of seat while pressed against Ford.

I’d
given up on not reacting to the closeness. Now all I could do was pray my
reaction wasn’t showing on my face when we stopped. His abs and pecs were solid
underneath the pressure of my palms. I could feel the ripple of muscle, the
planes and angles where chest became abdomen. We hit a bump and my hands slid
quickly up and then down again. My breath caught. Holy hell, his nipples were
hard. Heat built between my thighs, sending a delicious burn straight into the
lower reaches of my stomach. It took everything I had not to lift my legs and
wrap them around him instead of the machine I straddled. I held very still,
holding my breath until I was sure I could exhale without moaning.

Before
I’d fully recovered, we slowed and stopped. “What’s going on?” I asked, dazed.

“Casey
just waved and turned off the trail,” Ford said.

I
sat up straight, the haze of desire completely evaporated. “What?”

“He’s
gone.”

“Gone
where?” I looked around and realized for the first time, the sound of us idling
was the only motor I heard.

“That
way.” Ford pointed, but all I saw was overgrown brush and a downed tree.

“But
… what’s he doing? We can’t follow that way, not with both of us on this
thing.”

“I
think that was his point,” Ford said wryly. And I knew. This had been Casey’s
plan all along. He knew I wouldn’t want to talk about Mom. To him or Frank or
anyone. In Casey’s mind, the only way to cheer me up was a complete and total
distraction. Hence, Ford.

“Stupid
freaking liar,” I muttered, thinking of the bogus line he’d fed me about his
dirt bike not holding two people.

“What?”
Ford said.

“Ugh.
Nothing.”

“You
want to take a break? Stretch your legs?”

Without
waiting for an answer, Ford killed the engine. Around us, the woods were quiet
save for the cicadas. Far off, a single bird called once and then fell silent
again. It wasn’t quite cool enough for them to make an appearance. Later. For
now, it was humidity, cicadas, and the heat that could only be caused by riding
a dirt bike with Ford O’Neal.

Oh,
yeah. Casey was good. I’d get him for this.

I
slid off and removed my helmet, hanging it on one of the handlebars before
wandering down toward the water. Leaves crunched underneath my boots. I didn’t
bother finding the trail or waiting for Ford. I found a spot on a rock and sat.
Some of my earlier irritation had returned now that I was on two legs again.

“You
want to talk about it?” Ford asked, sitting beside me. He was close enough to
reach out and touch but far enough away that it didn’t make me squirm. I could
think clearly as long as he stayed over there.

I
stared at the water, watching the gentle ripple where it trickled around a rock
that stuck out above the surface. It was peaceful here. Farther up, where I’d
have to race with Casey, it was deeper, the rapids much faster. I liked it
better here, where the sound was soothing and more of a background noise
instead of in your face and roaring. “Not especially,” I said finally.

“Wanna
make out?”

“What?”
I whipped my head up, sure I’d misheard him.

He
laughed. “Casey said you needed a distraction. Just trying to help.”

“Casey’s
an ass.” My cheeks burned at the thought of accepting Ford’s invitation, even
if it had been a joke.

“Agreed.
Doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“Depends
on who you ask.”

There
was something so easy about the way he bantered. Like nothing ruffled him.
Nothing shook his center. I wished I could be like that. Then again, maybe he’d
never had something happen that was big enough to shake him.  And somehow, the
thought lessened my irritation. I couldn’t snap at him. He didn’t know my
baggage. I didn’t know his.

“Ford.”
I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders rise as the oxygen filled me
completely and gave me the patience and courage to continue. “I appreciate what
you’re trying to do here, but I don’t know you. I’m not going to just spill all
my problems. And you don’t have to bring me out here and do … all this.” I used
my hands to gesture around us. “It’s not your problem, it’s mine.”

“I’m
not arguing the first part. You don’t know me. But I’d like the chance to let
you. And sometimes talking to someone who doesn’t know all about it helps you
see it clearer.”  He spoke slowly, as if he’d considered his answer carefully
rather than just throwing out what I might want to hear. Another layer of
defenses crumbled.

“You
might be right,” I admitted. “I just … I don’t do that.”

“Didn’t
you come home in order to start doing things differently? Make a new way for
yourself?”

“You
can’t use my words against me.”

He
smiled. “Fine. I’ll give you until we get to my greenhouse. By then, when you
tell me, it’ll seem like your idea.” He stood and offered his hand. I took it,
letting him pull me up.

“Why
are we going to your greenhouse?”

I
dropped his hand the moment I was on my feet. How did simple hand-holding
reduce me to a sixth-grade prude? You would’ve thought it was Danny-what’s-his-slobber
all over again. No, that wasn’t right. Even without any solid proof, I was
absolutely positive Ford could kiss better than that.

I
eyed his mouth and watched as it slowly curved up at the corners. Oh, yeah.
That mouth definitely didn’t slobber. As hot as its owner was, I almost
wouldn’t mind if it did. I licked my own lips and jumped when Ford suddenly
closed the distance between us so that we stood toe to toe. Our only contact
was his chest pressed lightly against my breasts. It was enough to make my
nipples tighten and my breath quicken.

He
bent over me, his breath warm on my face. “I was going to respect your wishes.
Give you some space. But the more I think about it, the more I agree that you
just need to be good and distracted. And since you can’t seem to take your eyes
off my mouth, I think we should start there.”

Before
I could protest, he lowered his lips to mine. I told myself to pull away, to
walk straight back to the dirt bike parked up the hill and demand he drive me
home. Or drive myself home. Or run. Kissing would only lead to … more
kissing—and I didn’t want to think about what else. Or I did. And that was the
problem.

But
the second Ford’s mouth touched mine, every reason and excuse and rational
thought disappeared. His lips moved slowly at first, prodding my own apart
slowly. When the kiss deepened, he laid a hand on my hip. I leaned in, wanting
more of his hands on my body. I was rewarded with his arm sliding around as he
pressed a hand against the small of my back. When his tongue darted out and
licked the inside of my upper lip, my knees went liquidy. I slid my arms around
his neck, pulling him closer. I didn’t want him to try anything crazy like pull
away.

Heat
burned its way through my veins, settling between my thighs and leaving an
ache. My hands began to move on their own, running down the length of his back
and up the planes of his chest. My heartbeat roared in my ears. I couldn’t
breathe. And I didn’t particularly care if I never did again. So long as he
never stopped touching me.

When
Ford broke the kiss, it felt like waking from a heavy dream. It was almost
painful coming back to reality. His hand stroked my hair and trailed down my
arm before dropping at his side again.

I
tried to think of something to say, but my brain was a gray haze. “Well. That
was …” I didn’t know how to finish.

“A
new direction?” he offered.

I
smiled, some of the tension melting off. “Definitely.”

“Good.
Because it’s a direction I like. And I’m probably going to do it again.” I
opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “I’ll give you until we get back to form a
valid argument. For now, let’s ride.” I closed my mouth, unable to resist a
smile.

I
let him lead me back up the hill and to the dirt bike waiting. We strapped our
helmets into place and I slid in behind Ford, locking my thighs and hands a
little tighter than before.

When
we got back, I’d have to do exactly what he’d just said and explain to him why
I shouldn’t let that happen again. But for now, I was going to enjoy the best
kiss of my life and mentally congratulate myself for beating Casey in checking
off one more thing on our list.