Page 9 of The Inn Dilemma (Give a Bookish Girl a Biker)

Chapter Five

Holt

N ova’s eyes light up as she looks at me.

I wish I knew if her reaction is because of me or my bike.

But for the sake of my emotions and potential damaging false hope, I tell myself it’s because of the bike.

I’m sure her excitement is due to not being on anything with as much power as my bike since she rode around with Chris.

She walks over to my motorcycle and slowly runs her hands across the handlebars.

I plead temporary insanity when my eyes drop to the gentle sway of her hips as she makes her way around it.

I bottle up the undeniable attraction I feel for her and remind myself this is Nova Price, the girl I always looked out for.

But she’s all grown up and far more beautiful than she has any business being. It’s painfully impossible to ignore.

“Let’s go!” Nova releases a girlish squeal, pulling me out of my lapse in sanity.

Her gaze sweeps between me and my bike. It’s like I can see the tension slowly drain out of her as she unleashes her contagious smile.

Before I can prepare myself, she throws her hands in the air and waves them all around like an inflatable tube-man drawing in customers at a used car lot.

I can’t hold back my laugh at her absolutely ridiculous and purely Nova response.

Her essence is already drawing me in, and I remind myself once more that she is freshly out of a breakup.

Even more importantly, she’s taking a dating sabbatical, and I respect her too much to push her into something she’s not ready for. Especially knowing her history.

“She’s a beauty. I can’t wait to hit the open road with her.” Nova slides on her helmet.

Nova has never been afraid of anything—something that annoyed her father and brother—but it’s something I’ve always admired about her.

Nova taps her foot impatiently. “Come on!”

“All right, I’ll get on first and you’ll just swing your leg around and grip me around my waist.”

She flips up her visor, then puts her hands on her hips. “I know what to do, Holt. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“I don’t plan on bucking you off. So hopefully this will be less of a rodeo and more of a joy ride.” I throw one leg over the bike, then reach a hand out to help Nova.

“It will be!” She takes my hand and places her other on my shoulder to balance herself as she gets on.

Once we’re settled, I flip down my visor, crank the key, and we’re off. It’s a beautiful day with not a cloud in the sky.

We can’t really talk over the sound of my bike.

Maybe I should install the comms the guys and I have in her helmet.

It would be far easier to ignore the rightness of how all of this feels if I could carry on a conversation with her instead of focusing on how perfect her body feels pressed against mine as she clings to me .

I’ve missed her. The thought hits me like a freight train. She may be my best friend’s younger sister, but she’s been my friend too. Nova is the girl I looked out for when needed. The girl who’d tag along when Christian allowed it.

I’ve never seen Nova as a little sister. Our relationship was different. She was SuperNova, a silly nickname I gave her one night when she, Chris, and I camped out under the stars in their backyard. Nova has always been someone unique and special to me.

Her one arm releases me, and she taps my shoulder before pointing at a mule deer up on the cliff to our right.

It makes me smile how something I see almost every day excites Nova so much.

Even though she’s like a chameleon, able to adapt to wherever she is, I know she’s a country girl through and through. This is where she’s meant to be.

We’re coming up on the overlook I haven’t stopped at in years. I slow down and pull off into the little nook on the side of the road. Nova jumps off the back of my bike the second I’m parked and sets her helmet on the seat. I follow suit, walking behind her to the overlook.

“I never want to forget this view or take this beauty for granted again,” Nova says. Her fingers curl around the metal bars, and she stands on her tiptoes, as if she’s searching for something.

Coming to stand beside her, I say, “Yeah. I didn’t truly appreciate Colorado until after I came back home. We live among so much beauty here.” Then I stare at her profile, and her eyes meet mine for a single moment. A sensation that’s only grown stronger since being around Nova courses through me.

A soft smile plays on her lips as she turns back to take in the sight in a brief, pensive silence. “I missed this.”

“Me too,” I mutter, my eyes still on her.

For long minutes, we stare at the wide expanse of mountains and forest. This vast wilderness strikes me with awe every time I stop and actually smell the pine trees. To see the intentional, intricate details of everything on this earth.

For so many years, I questioned the validity of a Creator God.

Dad taught me that we forged our own destiny, made our own way, and could only rely on ourselves to survive.

He never even gave me a false sense of security that he was looking out for me the years I grew up with him in my life.

I practically raised myself until I turned twelve and he dropped me off to live with Uncle Walt and Aunt Birdie to do what “he was born to do,” which was apparently drive trucks.

It took years for me to see it, but Aunt Birdie and Uncle Walter showed me what unconditional love was.

They took me to church, where I learned about Jesus.

And when they brought me into their home without thought or delay, they showed me Jesus.

It just took me until my early twenties to realize it and appreciate the sacrifices they made.

Nova pulls me from my reverie when she squeals, “Look! There’s a moose!”

“Where?” I ask, leaning forward and scanning the trees for any sign of antlers. It could be a cow—a female moose—but I don’t think Nova would be as excited for that .

She motions me to come closer and points. I still can’t see it, so I step behind her to get a better view. Her breath hitches, and I don’t miss the way her arm trembles when I rest my hand on the bar next to her waist.

“Right there,” she says breathlessly. I finally see it.

It’s a bull moose with an impressive rack.

“That’s a legal one, too,” I note, taking a step back. “It would look mighty fine hanging over my mantel.”

She doesn’t remove her attention from the moose but reaches behind and swats at me. “We’re here to appreciate nature, to soak in its majesty, not hunt.”

“I don’t think you’d have that attitude if you were eating my moose burgers.”

Nova turns her head and looks up at me, wrinkling her nose. “Those do not sound good.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

She rolls her eyes, then takes out her phone. “Come here.” She motions with her hand, and when I step beside her, she wraps her arm around my waist. Instinctively, my arm goes around her shoulders. We both smile at her screen, and she snaps a few pictures.

Her face is flawless except for the minor scar on her right eyebrow she got on the playground when she was nine.

Chris and I were on our bikes passing the playground when I watched an older boy push Nova off the slide.

He laughed as he slid down it. Chris and I both threw our bikes on the grass and stormed over.

I went to Nova and Chris went to the boy, lifting him by the shirt and threatening to give him a bloody nose.

Nova’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. I took off my flannel and wiped the dirt from her forehead. Even as she saw the blood mixed with dirt on my shirt, she swallowed her pain and fear. It was that moment that made me realize her strength.

When we brought her home, Kent was furious.

Not at the unjust situation, but that his daughter was bloody.

As if it was her fault that she was bleeding.

He said he didn’t have time for it and had to get to an important business meeting.

Mrs. Price was stuck at work and didn’t answer any of Christian’s calls.

So I stepped in and told him Aunt Birdie would take her to the hospital and we’d all look after her.

The three of us walked to the end of town to the Storybook Inn, and the moment Aunt Birdie saw us, she dropped what she was doing to take us to the emergency room.

Nova only needed two stitches, and when she came out into the waiting room, a smile was on her face as if it wasn’t even an inconvenience.

A smile that convinced even me it was real.

“You all right?” Nova asks, touching my arm.

My gaze drops from her scar to her eyes. “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Send that to me, will you?”

“Of course!” She takes down my number, then shoots the photo over in a text.

As she does, I say, “I was just thinking about when you got this scar.” I gently stroke the mark with my thumb.

“You became my hero that day.” She smiles gently and tucks her phone in her pocket.

“Chris was the one who almost beat that punk to a pulp.”

“But you were the one who wiped away my pain.” She visibly swallows. “It was the first time, but not the last.”

Her eyes search mine for a long minute, and my eyes involuntarily drop to her mouth. Her lips part, and the action makes me suddenly ache to kiss her.

I shake my head and blink free of those crazy desires. This is Nova. Nova Price. My best friend’s little sister and the woman who just got out of a relationship and is on a dating sabbatical.

My phone rings, and I dig it out of my pocket. As if he knows I was having these thoughts, Chris’s name flashes on the screen.

I clear my throat before answering.“Hey, Chris. What’s up?”

Nova’s eyes widen and she motions wildly, shakes her head, and mouths, “He still doesn’t know I’m home.”

I rub my free hand down my face.

“Holt?” Chris must have said something while I was focused on Nova’s frantic movements.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“At the overlook off route six,” I answer, trying to keep it as generic as possible without sounding like I’m hiding something— like that I’m with his little sister and the new emotions brewing in me at the mere sight of her.

Nova leans next to me, presumably so she can hear her brother, and I catch a whiff of her warm vanilla scent.

“Clear Creek Canyon?” he asks.

Nova stiffens beside me.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” My voice cracks.

“Mind if Roxy and I come meet you? She wants to go for a ride out that way.”

Nova releases an odd mix of a grunt and cough.

“Holt? Was that you?”

“No, probably just the sounds of nature. ”

“Okay…” Chris says slowly. “So can we join you? Will you be there a little longer?”

I look over at Nova, who’s mouthing “no” and shaking her head vehemently.

“Actually, I was just getting ready to head back. I need to feed the pups and let them out to run for a while.”

“Then we’ll come over to your place,” Chris says, apparently bent on seeing me.

Nova face palms.

“Uh, sure. Sounds good. I’ll be home in an hour or so. I planned on taking the scenic route home.”

“All right, we’ll see you then.”

I hang up, tuck my phone back in my pocket, and drag my gaze to Nova’s. “Can you please tell me why Christian still doesn’t know you’re home?”

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looks everywhere but at me.

“How about you tell me what’s going on?” I say, leaning against the rail and crossing my arms.

She lifts a slender shoulder, then drops it. “I don’t know. I joked about being the prodigal daughter, but after Dad didn’t exactly welcome me home with open arms, I’ve been afraid I’ll get the same reception from Chris. And, I mean, he’s married now. Married!”

“And sort of has a kid, too.”

Her eyes go wide. “What?”

“Yeah, he adopted Roxy’s nephew, Axel, a couple months ago. Chris has taken over as a sort of stepdad.”

Nova stumbles back a step. “Wow.” She turns and faces away from me, and I can tell she needs this time to process. “I’ve missed so much.”

Her whisper barely carries over the distance between us. When her shoulders tremble, I can’t hold myself back. Gently, I grab her and slowly turn her toward me.

“I screwed up; I never should have left.” She covers her face with her hands.

I pull her hands down. “You’re back now. Make that be what matters.”

Her pretty brown eyes implore mine. “How?”

“You take it one day at a time.”