Page 12

CHAPTER 11

Little Victories Bucket List No. 9: Ride something with two wheels

For as long as Cammie could remember, she’d fantasized about having a big extended family. She especially dreamed of a kindly old grandmother figure, someone warm, comforting, and full of gentle wisdom.

What she got was Marilyn Lenzer. She had the kind part down, but Cammie never imagined the grandmother would smell like patchouli and sugar. Instead of the gentle wisdom Cammie expected, a torrent of bawdy jokes and playful innuendo poured from her mouth, the words thick with laughter and a hint of mischief.

And yet, she couldn’t help but love the woman. She only wished Marilyn’s embarrassing words hadn’t been directed at her. And especially not in front of Wade.

“What should we check off your list first?” Wade asked, thankfully ignoring Marilyn’s suggestive comments.

“I was wondering if there was a place to rent bicycles around here?”

“Bicycles?”

“Yeah. Number nine on my list is to ride something with two wheels.”

A slow smile spread across Wade’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and transforming him into something beyond handsome. “I have a better idea.”

He took her hand, and with a decisive pull, led her across the cracked asphalt of the parking lot to his large black truck. He opened the passenger door and helped her up into the massive vehicle.

“Where are we going?” she asked once they’d pulled out onto the street.

“You’ll see,” he answered with a grin.

After a few minutes, they drove down a residential street full of quaint little houses she could only dream of owning someday. To her surprise, he pulled into the driveway of the last one. Gazing upon the charming Cape Cod house, which boasted a gently sloping roof and an inviting front porch, she readily envisioned herself relaxing on a porch swing as the sun dipped below the majestic mountain range in the distance, painting the sky with vibrant hues.

So lost in her daydreams, she hadn’t noticed Wade had exited the vehicle and walked to her side until the door opened beside her. The detached garage stood open, revealing shadowy depths within, and he led her inside. Straight to a motorcycle.

Alarm filled her eyes as she quickly glanced up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “When I said something with two wheels, I didn’t mean . . .” With a sharp break in her speech, she flung her hand out towards the gleaming black and red motorcycle, its chrome glinting in the sunlight.

“Trust me. You’re gonna love it,” Wade said, grabbing an extra helmet from a hook on the wall.

“But . . . I’m not sure . . .”

“What do you have to lose?”

“Um . . . my life?” she answered nervously.

“Not gonna happen. You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Wow . He couldn’t know how much those words would possibly mean to her. She’d never felt safe with anyone except for the SEALs who rescued her. And that was only because it was their job to keep her safe.

For this man to talk about keeping her safe—when safety had always been a distant, unreachable thing—wasn’t just kind. It was something rare, something sacred. It wasn’t just the words—though they were steady and sure—it was the way he said them, low and earnest, like a vow whispered against her scars.

All her life, safety had been a locked door she never had the key to. She’d learned to be her own armor, to expect abandonment and abuse, to brace for the pain before it came. But now, here was this man—eyes soft, hands gentle, voice like warmth on a winter night—offering something she’d stopped believing in.

She didn’t know how to trust it, not completely. But still, her heart leaned in, drawn to the warmth in his voice, the promise in his eyes. Maybe safety didn’t come from the absence of danger, but from being seen—truly seen—and still held gently. And maybe, just maybe, she was ready to be held. Ready to believe in that elusive thought of safety with a fragile hope.

“All-alright,” she said, deciding to give this newest adventure a chance. Her gaze followed him as he pushed the machine out of the garage and into the bright afternoon light. It was quite a sight to behold. The powerful muscles in his biceps strained and bulged noticeably against the tight sleeves of his black T-shirt. Unable to resist, her gaze drifted down his muscular back, settling on the tight roundness of his rear. Seeing his firm buttocks made her mind wander to uncharted territories. Her body vibrated with an unfamiliar, intense longing, a need that pulsed through her veins like a second heartbeat.

Her cheeks burned, and she snatched her gaze away from his butt as he faced her. “Here. Wear this,” he said handing her his leather jacket she hadn’t seen him grab. He helped her into the too-big jacket sleeves, then gave her the helmet, making sure the chin strap was fastened securely. With his own helmet on, he kicked his leg over the worn leather seat of his motorcycle and glanced at her over his shoulder, a silent question in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she walked toward the motorcycle, carefully considering the most effective and graceful way to mount the powerful machine. Wade directed her, and she settled on the seat behind him. He reached around and hooked her behind her knees, yanking her body closer until her chest was pressed tightly against his back. The impact stole her breath.

“Wrap your arms around my waist,” he said, and she complied, her fingers tracing the contours of his abdomen before clasping together on his stomach. With a few deft maneuvers, the engine growled to life beneath her, a low, thrilling rumble that vibrated through her spine and made every nerve stand at attention. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a crooked smile that made her stomach flip. “Hold on tight,” he said, and then they were off.

Initially, his speed was slow as he navigated the residential area, but once he reached the less-traveled back country roads, he opened it up. As their speed increased, the world blurred into streaks of color. Wind whipped through her hair, tugged at her clothes, and wrapped around her like freedom itself.

Every curve in the road sent her pressing closer, her arms instinctively clutching him like he was the only solid thing in the rushing world. And maybe he was. The scent of leather and something unmistakably him filled her lungs, and the thrill of speed gave way to something deeper—a quiet, breathless trust.

And somewhere between the heartbeat of tires on pavement and the warmth of his back against her chest, she realized she wasn’t scared anymore. She felt alive. She felt free.

The engine slowed, the deep rumble fading into a gentle purr as they rolled to a stop. Wind still whispered around them, carrying the scent of pine and something crisp from the valley below. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, spilling gold and rose across the sky, painting the mountains like something out of a dream.

She didn’t move right away. Her arms stayed wrapped around his waist, cheek still pressed lightly against the back of his jacket, as if letting go too soon might break whatever spell they were under. Her pulse thudded in her ears—half from the ride, half from the man she’d clung to the entire way up.

He turned slightly, his voice hoarse but warm. “You okay, sprite?”

She nodded, then laughed—a soft, breathy sound of wonder. “That was . . . incredible.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You liked it?” he asked, voice low and a little rough, as if her answer was important to him.

She nodded, breathless. “I didn’t know it would feel like that.”

“Like what?” he said, dismounting in one smooth motion and pulling his helmet off before turning to help her.

She pulled off her own helmet, hair tousled and cheeks flushed from the ride, eyes sparkling with adrenaline. “Like flying.”

She slipped her hand into his and swung her leg over and slid off the seat. The gravel crunched under her shoes, her knees unsteady not from the journey but from the intensity of his gaze. Like the only view worth seeing was standing right in front of him.

He led her to the edge of the overlook, where the wind lifted strands of her hair and the vastness of the view stretched out before them like a secret promise. The world below was a breathtaking panorama of misty blues and purples, each layer seemingly folded upon the next, creating a mesmerizing depth. It was no wonder why they called them the Blue Ridge Mountains. Below, the lights of the town blinked to life, but up here, it was just them and the sky.

He stepped closer, close enough that she could still feel the heat of the engine—or maybe it was just him. His voice dropped low, his gaze never leaving hers. “Worth the ride?” he asked, watching her more than the view.

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed from the wind, eyes wide with something deeper than adrenaline. “More than worth it,” she said, her voice soft but certain.

He leaned in then, slow and close, his forehead brushing hers as the sun dipped toward the horizon. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was falling. She felt like she’d landed.

His smile deepened, and for a moment, neither of them moved, suspended in the hush of dusk and the electricity of something new. The ride might’ve ended, but she had a feeling the real journey had only just begun.

The space between them crackled, alive with everything unspoken. He reached out first, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting his touch linger just a little too long. Her breath hitched, eyes fluttering up to meet his—dark and steady, full of heat and promise.

They leaned in, slow and hesitant, as if savoring the ache of anticipation. Her lips parted, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with reverence, like he wasn’t just about to kiss her—but memorize her. The world faded around them, sound falling away until all she could hear was the drumbeat of her own heart and the soft shift of his breath as he moved closer.

Just as his lips brushed hers—a whisper of a kiss that hadn’t quite landed—a pair of headlights swept across the lot, flooding the moment in harsh light. The crunch of tires over gravel shattered the silence, and they froze, breathless, blinking at the sudden intrusion.

She startled back a step, her cheeks flushed and lips parted, a half-laugh escaping her lips as if to shake off the spell. He blinked, shoulders tensing for a beat before relaxing into a crooked grin.

“We should head back before it gets too dark,” he said, his voice coarse, hinting at something inexpressible, some indefinable emotion that lingered in the air between them.

The ride back was uneventful, but just as exhilarating. Instead of going back to his cute little house, he dropped her off at her apartment, promising he’d see her soon to check off another thing on her bucket list. He gave her a fleeting kiss on the cheek before rapidly departing, leaving her with an undeniable sense of rejection. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the street that she realized she still held his spare helmet in her hand.

She smiled. It was inevitable they’d see each other again. And maybe next time, she’d get another chance at that fleeting, sweet kiss, a taste of which still lingered on her lips. But this time, it would be a long, deep, and passionate one.