We pull up to my father’s house the next afternoon, and my gut churns.  Not only is this the first time I’ve been home since the funeral, but this is also the end of my journey with the incredible biker man that showed me what it was like to feel like a woman again.

Climbing off my motorcycle, I turn and face Hulk, a lump forming in my throat.  He looks around and lets out a low whistle.  “Nice digs,” he says with a grin.

He’s right.  The house is beautiful, but right now, I just want to wrap myself up in his arms and forget all about this scary new life I am about to begin.  I want to turn around and head back to that hotel, where we had spent the entire night getting lost in each other, over and over again.

“Do you want to come in?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion.

He tilts his head to the side and takes a step towards me, his hand coming up so he can run his thumb along my cheekbone.  “No, Princess.  I need to get back.”  His other hand comes up, and he places a soft kiss on my forehead.  “You don’t know how bad I want to come in,” he whispers into my hair.  “You have some work to do.  Get your shit sorted out, and when you write your book, make sure you remember how I made you scream.”

I giggle through my tears as he gives me another kiss and climbs back onto his bike.  With one last gorgeous smile to remember him by, he’s gone.