Nell smiled at his wheedling tone. “I’d imagine a truck owned by a rock god would be pretty comfortable. We’re supposed to take a company vehicle, but I bet you could persuade Tommy to waive that rule.”
“Yeah. I’ll go ask him. I’ve got my bike here today, so I’ll have to whip home and get the truck. You want to take transit to your place to pack, or are you willing to ride with me? I’ve got a spare helmet.”
She grinned. “I’ve been on bikes before. I’d appreciate a lift home.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go talk to Uncle Tommy. Meet you at the elevators in ten minutes?”
Elevators? Let’s see what the man is made of. “Afraid to take the stairs?”
He stared at her. “Six floors?”
“It only takes a couple of minutes. Good cardio. But you can meet me at the bottom if you’d rather.”
“All right.” He shrugged. “I guess I can take the stairs with you.”
Eamonn was a bit out of breath when they reached the parking level, but not as much as Nell had expected. “You’re not in bad shape,” she said. Especially given that he’s carrying his helmet.
“Mm. Playing rock concerts can be pretty intense and I work out when I’m able. Keeps me fit enough.” His voice sounded casual, almost deliberately casual, and she wondered if he was taking their relative fitness as a competition. So many men, in and out of martial arts, took it as a personal challenge when they met a woman who was physically strong. Maybe I should have taken the elevator.
She didn’t have to ask where he was parked. There was just the one motorcycle in the parking garage. She’d assumed a guy whose stage name was Easy would have a sleek crotch rocket in a flashy cherry red or something equally attention-screaming, but the bike they walked toward was a big, comfortable touring Harley in silver and black. “Nice ride,” she said, and he grinned.
Reaching the bike, he unlocked the trunk on the back and lifted out a spare helmet. “Full helmet,” he said, handing it to her. “I like my passengers to be safe. You said you’d ridden on the back of someone’s bike before?”
“A few times, yeah. Some of the guys I train with have bikes and I get a ride home now and then.”
“Good. Here, give me your bag and I’ll lock it in the top box so you don’t need to worry about it.” Then he swung his leg over the bike and adjusted his weight. “Let me just pull out and turn before you hop on.” Nell stepped back against a concrete pillar while Eamonn rolled his bike out of the parking spot and got it positioned toward the parking lot exit. He waved her over. “Okay, climb on up. You know you’ve gotta hold tight, right? Can’t be shy on a bike.”
“I’m not shy.” I just don’t know that it’s a good idea to get so close to you. But her only other choice was to refuse to get on the bike, and then she’d have to waste time on the bus when they could be getting on the road. She hadn’t been on a touring motorcycle before. It was bigger than she was used to, with a high back behind the passenger seat. “Looks like an armchair, all that leather padding.” Feeling fortunate that her training had given her so much flexibility, she grabbed the back of the seat, got a leg up, and slid into position. The padded seat gave her no choice — her legs were pretty much snug around his hips, and unless she leaned back awkwardly, her chest was right up against his back, like a sitting piggyback ride.
He didn’t seem to mind. “I like road trips. I like being comfortable. We could ride to Champagne like this without too much trouble, but I think the truck will be better, especially if you want to nap while I drive.”
Nell snorted. “I don’t nap.”
“We’ll see. My truck is comfortable too. Anyway, you know the drill, right? Keep your feet up even at stops, keep your arms around my waist, and keep your shoulders in line with mine. Tap my shoulder if there’s a problem and I’ll pull over. Good?”
“Don’t you need my address?”
“Got it from Uncle Tommy on my way out. Let’s go.” He revved the motor, a smooth rumble that vibrated right through her like a cat’s purr, and pushed off.
No goddamn privacy in that place.
She couldn’t feel much of his body through his leather jacket, just a sense of lean hardness and warmth. It was still too close for comfort. He doesn’t respect women, she reminded herself. He may not have intended to harass her in the Frog and Ball, and he may have meant ‘gorgeous’ as a compliment, but it still didn’t make him acceptable. But in her mind, she kept hearing Lila saying you need to get laid. “I do not,” she said out loud, knowing that the wind would eat her words without him hearing them. I’m quite capable of taking care of my own needs in between lovers, thank you. She wasn’t so desperate that she’d need to take someone called Easy into her bed. Think about packing, she told herself. Think about planning. Don’t think about him.
She wrapped her arms tighter around him and closed her eyes against the afternoon sun. It seemed like no time at all before he pulled up in front of her apartment building.
“How long do you need to pack?” he asked, as he turned and offered her a hand to steady her as she dismounted. Then he got up too and opened the top box to get her
