“Horsefeathers!” Elizabeth cursed, losing her balance, and dropping her groceries. Strong hands steadied her, preventing her from tumbling to the ground along with the now bruised apples.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” a deep voice asked, making her look up at her rescuer.
For a split second too long, she stared at the young leather-clad biker standing in front of her, bringing a knowing smile to his face. “You could watch where you’re going,” she blustered, reacting aggressively due to embarrassment.
“I was actually just standing here,” the magnetic biker pointed out. “You dashed through the door like you’d just robbed the place.”
He paused for a moment before leaning closer to ask, “You didn’t, did you?”
“Of course not!” Elizabeth answered, jerking herself out of his stabilizing hold. She squatted to pick up her scattered items, trying to move quickly.
“Let me help you,” the tattooed gentleman offered.
Elizabeth’s face flamed with heat when she automatically noticed the way his battered jeans molded to his thighs. She dragged her eyes away before she could check out everything. I obviously need to get laid.
“That’s interesting. Are you propositioning me?” the man asked with merriment dancing in his gaze.
“Oh, holy duck. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Sorry. Just hand me that orange and I’ll go hide,” she demanded.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very good at cussing?” he asked as he nabbed the last escapee and held it out to her.
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth snatched the orange and stuffed it back in her bag. “Only my obnoxious husband and I just got rid of him,” she reported as she stood and adjusted her slim skirt back down her thighs.
She pulled herself together and forced herself to be polite. “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry I plowed into you.”
“I’m not,” he answered with a smile. Holding out his hand, he added, “I’m Talon.”
“Of course, you are. And I’m way too old for you.”
“I don’t think that’s your name,” he said. His voice held a new tone.
Commanding and dominant, it captured her attention, making her stop and fully look at him for the first time. Elizabeth swallowed hard at the steel in his gaze.
“Elizabeth,” she admitted.
“That suits you. I’m glad to meet you, Elizabeth.” He still held out his hand.
She stared at it for a second. Something inside told her touching him would change everything. When he didn’t draw his back, Elizabeth slowly placed her hand in his. Warmth, strength, and something she didn’t understand registered deep inside her. In surprise, she looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes.
“I didn’t expect to meet you today, Little girl,” he said softly.
Snatching her hand from his, she ran toward her car. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and she didn’t even want to think about why her panties were damp.
Fluffernutter! What just happened?
“Talon, saddle up. We need to go,” a gruff voice called as she fumbled with the door handle of her car.
She looked back at the magnetic man who’d just rocked her world with one touch. He stood watching her. His entire attention was focused on her. Shivering in reaction, Elizabeth jumped into her car and thrust the grocery sack into the passenger seat. The already bruised fruit bounced to the floorboard.
Starting the car, she risked one last glance. Talon had moved. Elizabeth scanned the area and spotted him just as he lifted a leg over his massive bike. She bit her lip and made herself focus on the parking lot as she backed out and drove away, hearing the roar of powerful motors firing to life behind her.
“Don’t let them be going my way. Don’t let them be going my way. Don’t let them be going my way,” she chanted as she turned to the left.
Elizabeth divided her attention between the road in front and behind her. To her relief, the powerful throb of the motors faded into the background. They’d turned to the right.
Slumping in her seat, she drove away, making herself focus on the road as she navigated her way toward her new apartment. Her lawyer had assured her she would be awarded the house if she chose to ask for it. A flash of her ex in bed with the floozy next door appeared in her head.
“Nope. I couldn’t ever stay in that house again,” she announced to the tattered bag of groceries. The oranges seemed to understand where she was coming from at least while the apples just pouted at the treatment they’d experienced.
A memory of the thin woman who didn’t even attempt to cover her nakedness flashed into her head, making Elizabeth instantly sick—mentally and physically. To distract herself, Elizabeth joked, “Come on. She would have juiced you apples for sure.” They still did not choose to respond.
“This is my life now. Holding a conversation with fruit.”
Flipping on the radio, Elizabeth distracted herself with the local news report. There were so many people out there dealing with much greater problems than she had. Shaking her head, she told herself to get over it. Thank goodness she hadn’t wasted another ten years on that jerk.
An image of the biker popped into her mind. She’d never gone for the bad boy type. It must be just a reaction to the divorce. After her husband’s betrayal, her mind was running from the chubby and reliable office type that hadn’t worked out too well for her to one that instantly made her think of hot sex. Who would have known she was attracted to leather and smirks?
Feathers! She bet he knew exactly what he was doing in the bedroom. Maybe even over the kitchen counter or on the table. If people outside of books really did that.
It was Friday afternoon and a long weekend stretched in front of her. Throwing herself into work had distracted and occupied her attention. Now, she would have way too much time to think.
With a sigh, Elizabeth pulled into a parking spot and gathered her groceries one more time. She pulled the edges of the torn paper sack together to prevent another catastrophe and bumped her car door closed with her hip. Walking up to the second floor, Elizabeth unlocked her front door and headed for the kitchen.
It took exactly six minutes to put away the food—and then only that long because she’d washed the bruised produce before hiding them in a drawer in the almost empty refrigerator. She glanced at the healthy contents she’d purchased and sighed. What she really wanted was something dripping with calories.
Grabbing her phone to order a pizza with the works, she noticed a message from Janine. One of the younger women at the office, Janine had reached out a friendly hand when she’d read about Elizabeth’s divorce in the paper. It turned out she was watching for hers to be announced.
Quickly, Elizabeth texted back.
Three knocks landed on her door, making her jump. Rolling her eyes for the second time that night, Elizabeth went to answer and give her excuses.
What am I going to tell her? That I have an appointment with my vibrator?
“Hi, Janine. I’m sorry I didn’t see your message sooner. I would have kept you from coming my way.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. I want the Hangout’s trashcan nachos and I can’t order them by myself. Take pity on me.”
An image of the caloric treat of crisp tortilla chips with cheese sauce and salsa as well as sausage and jalapenos made her mouth water. “That sounds really good,” Elizabeth confessed. “I was going to order pizza, but…” Her stomach was already growling at the thought of nachos.
“Pizza’s great, but nothing beats those nachos. Come on. Put on some jeans and some dancing shoes. You and I are going to have some fun tonight,” Janine ordered.
“All right, but I’ll follow you in case I want to come home earlier than you,” Elizabeth stated firmly.
“Nope. I’ll drink too much if I’m just driving myself. With you there, I’ll limit myself to one Bahama Mama and then I’ll drink soft drinks the rest of the night.”
“You’ll bring me home when I want to come home?” Elizabeth pressed.
“Promise.” Janine crossed her fingers over her heart.
“Fine. But I’m not dancing.”
“Oh, you’re dancing. If it makes you feel less nervous, I’m going to make you look good.” Janine demonstrated some of her dance moves, making Elizabeth laugh.
“Fiddlesticks, we both suck at dancing?” Elizabeth threw over her shoulder as she walked into her bedroom to change.
“You are absolutely the worst at cussing! Fiddlesticks!” Janine said, laughing as she settled on the couch in the main room.
“I know. It’s okay.” Elizabeth laughed at herself. Her parents had been very strict about using foul language. They didn’t use it at all so despite all her friends turning the air blue with their cussing, Elizabeth couldn’t even think of anything to say when an occasion arose.
She discarded her office clothes and jumped into some jeans. Elizabeth couldn’t help noticing they fit looser than before. Planning ahead, she added a tank top and sandals. It would be packed in there on a Friday night. Elizabeth might as well walk in looking cool.