Easy Little Lick (Copperline #3) (10 page)

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you okay?”

I ignored her question, climbed off the floor, and headed back out into the barroom.

Ilsa avoided me like the plague after that interlude in the storage room. If she saw me coming towards her, she would dart in another direction. She would zip by me. She would do anything she could to avoid coming within ten feet of me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. I had no clue what had happened to her in the past to make her so afraid of human interaction, but something traumatic had really done a number on her. That level of fear wasn’t just a natural shyness.

It wasn’t just me. She avoided everyone, really, but she seemed to avoid me even more, especially now. Like she made a concerted effort to do so. Every time I felt like I was making some sort of inroads with her, the rug seemed to get pulled out from beneath my feet. I’d stumble and by the time I’d regained my footing, she was farther away from me than ever before.

It made me want to draw her closer even more.

The bar was slow, but it was only a Wednesday so that wasn’t really a shocker. I had kind of counted on it. We weren’t playing that night, yet I convinced Justin to come out with me after work. Being at the garage all day tomorrow was going to suck, but I had a mission.

Ilsa had avoided me completely ever since the biker fight and that tumultuous kiss in the storage room a good week and a half ago. I had no clue where else I could find her, so I’d started spending every spare moment at the Copperline. My frustration was overwhelming.

I’d tried to catch her a week ago, but she got off work early and was gone before I knew it. The bar was swamped Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. If the bar was busy, she stayed busier. She kept far away from me in a way that simply could not be coincidence. It had to be intentional. Sunday, she worked an early shift and was gone before I even showed up. Monday and Tuesday, she was off work completely.

Tonight, though, she was here. The bar was relatively quiet. She wasn’t getting away from me without a talk. Not tonight.

She did try, though. She stayed behind the bar, close to Doug, who was mixing drinks, for most of the evening. Out of the corner of my eye, while Justin and I shot some pool, I saw her say something to Doug, and he gave her a short nod. A minute later, she was headed down the hall to the office.

She was going to leave early again, but this time, I was ready.

I shoved my pool cue into Drew’s hand, as he’d just shown up looking like utter shit over some new fight he was having with Maggie, and I slipped out the door into the back lot where Ilsa had parked.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the back of the building, looking over her shoulder. Appearing suspiciously like she was trying to leave unnoticed.

She froze solid when she turned and saw me leaning up against her driver door.

“Leaving already?” I asked nonchalantly.

She swallowed hard, convincing me even more that she had been trying to avoid me.

Taking a couple cautious steps towards me, she seemed to want to maintain some distance between us.

“Slow night,” she murmured, watching me warily. “Doug, um… Doug told me to head home.”

If she wasn’t going to come to me, I’d come to her. I straightened and pushed away from her car, coming to stand right before her.

“Want to go for a ride?” I asked.

“A ride?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I've got my bike.”

“Your bike?”

“My Victory.”

She just kind of gave me a look that indicated she hadn’t the faintest idea what I was talking about.

“It’s a motorcycle,” I finally offered.

The girl had no poker face whatsoever. I saw a nervous energy cross over her face, but I also saw a glimmer of yearning. The smallest hint of longing in her eyes. She could picture it, the two of us on my bike. Her arms around my waist, pressing into my back as we rode through the mountains.

Yet she dropped her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t. I've got to… I’m gonna be late…” she trailed off, not even the slightest bit convincing.

“Ils,” I said, lifting my eyebrow, “you just got off work three hours early. How the fuck are you going to be late?”

Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. I had her there. She knew it, too.

I stepped a little closer, almost touching, making her look up to meet my eyes. Her thick, dark lashes blinked closed a few times.

“Just a quick little ride…” I urged, “up the highway and back.”

My hand came forward to settle at her hip, and I was rewarded and tortured with the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“I don’t have a jacket,” she whispered hoarsely, like that was a deal-breaker.

I shrugged off my black leather and tucked it over her shoulders.

“Problem solved,” I smiled.

“Just a quick ride,” she uttered, still on guard.

And then I smiled wider.

“Let’s go.”

The sun was just setting as we headed up the winding, twisting road up Pipestone Pass, and the golden glow from the clouds reflected off the pines. The evening wasn’t cold, but there was enough of a chill that I was glad I’d given her my coat. I had told her a quick ride, but this wasn’t a road you sped on. Apart from being dangerous, it was simply too stunning to rush through.

Plus, I was really in no hurry to end this.

Her arms held tight around my abs, causing me to tingle a little all over. Her body pressed against my back and moved with mine around the deep U-shaped turns in the highway. At the top of the pass, I turned off the highway onto a dirt road that headed back to a picnic area. A day-use spot that would be vacant at this time in the evening, hidden from the main road by thick pine and aspen trees.

I slowed to a stop and looked back at her over my shoulder.

“Hop off,” I urged.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

“I thought we were going for a ride,” she reminded me.

“Yeah, but we’re also going to have a little chat.”

“Cody—”

“Hop off, Ils,” I repeated.

“Cody—”

“Ilsa.” The tone of my voice parroted hers, and I twisted around to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

Again, I could see that what she wanted to do and what she thought she should do were at war in her head. Her face softened and she bit her lip, one last indecisive motion before she climbed off the back of my bike.

After I’d done the same, I reached out to take her hand and led her up a small path through the trees, circling over and around some thick chunks of granite that stuck out of the ground. Literally sitting right on the continental divide, these mountains were rough and wild, formed by the forces deep in the earth. They were spectacular, the foliage green and lush. The path came to a rocky outcropping that faced back to the north, overlooking the winding road below us, showcasing the higher, snow-capped peaks in the distance that overlooked Butte.

This spot was truly breathtaking.

“That’s beautiful,” Ilsa murmured. She let go of my hand and stepped closer to the cliffs and watched as the sun began to dip behind the hills to the west. A light breeze blew the hair back from her face, hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail on the windy, winding ride. As she looked back at me, I reached out to tuck a lock behind her ear. She faintly leaned into my touch, then caught herself. Reaching back, she pulled the ponytail tie from her hair and began to gather the strands to put it back in place, but I reached out, tangling my fingers with hers and gently stole the elastic band away.

With my other hand, I combed through her long, thick hair and stepped closer.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I quietly asked into the calm wind.

Dodging my gaze, she gave a faint shake of her head. “I’m not.”

“Liar.” My voice came out more as a caress, softening the retort.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she replied.

“That took a little work on my part,” I smiled, grazing my fingers around her outer ear and tracing my thumb down her throat. “I get the feeling you don’t want to be.”

“That’s not it.” She gently shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you. I actually do. It’s that I shouldn’t
want that. I don’t want to
want to
be here with you.”

“Why?” I murmured, dipping my face down towards hers, lured by the sweet taste of her kiss that still haunted me days after it had happened.

“It’s so complicated. My life is complicated.”

I drew back to look at her more directly. “Maybe I could help,” I offered, brushing my fingers along the curve of her cheek.

Her eyes seemed sad even as she smiled up at me. She looked down to where her hands had come to rest on my chest. “You can’t.”

“You don’t know that,” I murmured. The breeze picked up for a minute and her sweet, warm scent mixed with the fresh pine, tickling my senses.

As she lifted her head, her hand rose to trace the line of my jaw, scraping along the scruff. “It’s wonderful that you want to,” she whispered. “That’s enough.”

“You have to trust somebody sometime,” I said. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t.” She lowered her hand and pulled away, looking out over the landscape, her posture pensive and conflicted. “It’s not that easy, Cody. That’s not all there is to it.”

“So tell me the rest.”

She glanced back over at me, watching me for a moment before she shook her head slowly from side to side.

She didn’t trust me
. She might want me, but whatever her secrets were, she didn’t trust me with them. That thought echoed through my mind, tightening my lungs as I watched her take a few more steps away, towards the overview of the valley below. She bent and sat on the grass, resting her chin on her drawn-up knees.

“I can’t, Cody. There are a lot of reasons I can’t.”

I made my way over to her, settling in the grass beside her, studying her as she steepled her index fingers together and pressed them against her full lips. She didn’t say anything for a moment, then turned to face me with a tortured pain in her eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she breathed solemnly.