Crawford nudges her shoulder. “It’s dangerous until you’re older. I wasn’t allowed to ride on a cruiser until I turned sixteen.”
I send him a silent bout of gratitude for stepping in. Being the only bad guy to dish out rules gets old. “And guess what, sweetie? I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”
Millie scrunches her forehead. “You’re so old. Why’d you wait so long?”
“Little turkey.” I give her cheek a light pinch. “I never had a friend who owned one until now.”
Her little mouth forms a circle. “That’s why you wanna go with Ford alone. I get it now.”
I begin nodding slowly. “Uh, yeah. That sounds about right.”
She peers up at Crawford. “Take care of my mama, okay? It’s her first time. She doesn’t know what to do.”
When I look at Crawford, his lips are pressed tight together. The gleaming humor bleeds through his eyes, though. “And on that note, shall we?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
Josey pops up beside me with a coy grin to match the sparkle in her eye. “Make sure to keep her out way past curfew.”
He gives her a salute. “No problem.”
I trap Millie and Josey in a group hug, squeezing until my daughter starts to fuss. “Have fun without me.”
“We will,” my bestie coos.
With a shake of my head, I meet Crawford on the path leading to my driveway. He grips my hip, the action so subtle I barely notice. “Are you excited? Or nervous?”
“Both? I’m not much of a scaredy-cat”—I glare at him when he grunts—“except when it comes to swimming with fish in large bodies of water.”
“If you say so.”
I poke him in his chiseled side, almost breaking a nail. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t even scream.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Only if you want this to be my first and last ride.”
“I won’t be reckless, Kee. You can trust me.”
And I do. Probably more than I should. The opportunity to ponder why that might be disappears as we reach his black and chrome iron steed. The Harley is impressive, even to a novice who knows nothing about the machines. The spot reserved for a passenger halts my appraisal.
“I can see you get a lot of company.” The grit in my voice is unmistakable. I shake off the green monster, gluing a perky grin on my lips.
A lopsided smirk tips his lips. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your tone?”
I scoff and cross my arms. “Absolutely not.” The lie is so vivid it’s a surprise my pants aren’t on fire.
“You can be possessive of me. I don’t mind.”
I toss my braid off my shoulder. “I’m not delusional. We have no claim on each other, Ford.”
He stalks into my personal space, lifting my chin until we’re locked in an electric standoff. “The idea of you fucking another guy drives me to the brink of madness. There’s no denying that you have a hold on me. You’re the only woman I want. And for the record, I added that rear seat specifically for you.”
Well, that’s one way to shut me up. Does that mean he actually cares about me? It’s hard to tell when he’s usually operating on pure piss and vinegar. I take a much-needed backward stumble. “Uh, wow. Wasn’t expecting that.”
His nostrils flare with a snort. “Get used to it.”
Static buzzes in my ears. I part my lips, closing them a second later. Formulating a response to that isn’t happening—all I see is an endless sea of white. “I’m not sure what you mean. Is that why you wanted me all to yourself?”
“Among the other reasons I told you about.”
At least he doesn’t bother denying it. If I’m being honest, his declaration floods me with a familiar molten heat. It’s official. If this guy keeps playing his cards right, he’s totally getting laid. Does that make me easy? Most likely. Even if it does, I’m already teetering off the ledge of caring. But where does this path lead to after a few overdue orgasms? I add that to my worry list for tomorrow.
“In any case, this is an impressive cushion.” I give the elevated backseat a pat.
“Decker got me thinking,” he muses.
“About what?”
“A lady and her throne.” He chops a hand through the air. “Never mind. Will that be big enough for you?”
I take another glance at the wide section reserved for my butt. “I’m trying not to be offended by your question.”
Crawford’s scowl gains intensity. “We both know you have a fine ass. Don’t go digging for reassurance. I just want you to be comfortable.”
“Okay, that’s better.”
Crawford looms over me, his towering frame blocking out the sunlight. “Want me to worship your ass, Kee?”
I gulp as heat flares in my cheeks. “Uh, maybe later,” I squeak. We’re still in my freaking driveway, for crying out loud.
His dark chuckle snares me. “I’ll circle round to that when we arrive at the landing.”
“The what? You never told me where we’re going.”
“You’ll see.” He gestures to my seat. “Hop on.”
As I get situated, Crawford digs through the saddlebags attached to both sides of his bike. He hands me an emerald green helmet and black leather jacket. “Hope those fit. If they don’t, we can return them for the right size.”
I take his proffered gifts with trembling fingers. When was the last time a man gave me a present? It’s been years, and those came with conditions. I clear the lump of emotion from my throat. “Thank you. How much do I owe—”
“Don’t even think about it. These are from me to you. End of.”
“Okay.” I nod while slipping on the jacket. “This is very thoughtful.”
“And smart. Safety is important, Kee. Accidents happen too often.”
I wince at the sting his reminder causes. The scar tissue throbs beneath layers of dense grief. Crawford isn’t immune to the pain that tragedy delivers. He’s all too aware of how fast circumstances change. I don’t respond to the slash of caution in his voice. Words aren’t necessary in this heavy moment.
He straddles the seat in front of me,
