15. Jackson

My Harley-Davidson CVO hummed beneath me, its newly remodeled backseat an addition I never thought I'd end up making. But Mandy needed somewhere to sit, and if I was going to turn this into a long-haul situation, I wanted her to be able to ride it with me.

I kicked the foot out and turned it off, letting the heat from it warm my legs as I watched the pool of press people mingling about her front door. They were already beginning to turn, their cameras snapping as I pulled my helmet over my head. I smoothed my hair so I wouldn't have a helmet-head for the photos they'd inevitably take.

My black riding jeans, white shirt, and leather jacket weren't my normal attire when getting photographed. In fact, I don't think they had a single photo of me on my Harley—it was my me-time activity. No one could see my face if I had on a helmet, so I didn't draw attention. A breath of fresh air.

I almost regretted exposing myself with it as I stepped up to her door, cutting through the sea of people. I can always buy a new one, a different model that they won't recognize. Two knocks and the door swung open.

I was going to kill her.

"I said wear pants," I grumbled, stepping through the door and shutting it behind me before the reporters could pick up on my irritation.

"What, you don't like short skirts anymore, Jackson?" She smirked, leaning onto the back of her sofa as she played idly with her curls. "Are they too much for you to bear?"

I glared at her as I looked her up and down. Any other day, the little black, pleated skirt would be my favorite thing she could possibly wear. But unless she wanted potential burns on the inside of her calves and for the paparazzi to get an eyeful, it wouldn't do. "We're going on my bike. I suggest you put on jeans or something."

"Bike?" She asked, pushing off the sofa and sensually strolling slowly over to the window. Fuck, she's wearing heels, too. She shifted the blinds, peeking between them. "Oh. I've never been on a motorcycle before."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Do I need a helmet? I've probably got one in my garage, but it's for riding a bicycle, not a motorcycle." She turned to me, that little skirt swaying too much, revealing a flash of her upper thighs in the blink of an eye.

"I brought a helmet for you," I said, my voice far breathier than I expected. Get it together, Jackson. "Go change, I'll wait. No heels and put your hair up."

————

The snap of cameras pinged around us as I showed Mandy where to place her legs in order to not get burned. "These two pipes right here are the exhaust," I explained, propping her booted feet up on the pedals for her. "Don't touch them. It can burn even through your jeans."

"Okay," she said, the helmet flopping forward on her head as she nodded.

"Shit, that's too loose, isn't it?" I stepped closer to her, a whispered sorry under my breath as I lifted her chin with my knuckle. Her eyes went wide as she looked up at me, a perfect little photo-op, and I tightened the latch under her jaw. Just the brush of my fingers against her skin put my senses into overdrive. "There we go. Nod for me, princess, so I can see if it's tight enough."

She obeyed without hesitation. It didn't move.

"Perfect." Satisfied with the positioning, I threw one leg over the bike, sat down, and kicked the stand back up. "You'll have to hold on to me," I said over my shoulder.

"What?" She asked, her brows furrowing. "I didn't agree to that."

"Do you want to fall off while I'm going eighty miles per hour?"

"No."

"Then hold on tight." I placed my helmet on my head, clicking the visor down. One swift turn of the key and my bike roared to life, the warm hum radiating up through my legs and pelvis. The crowd of paparazzi parted, giving us an easy exit, and as I revved the engine with my hand, Mandy's arms flew around my waist. The feeling really shouldn't have been as exciting as it was but the instant her arms wrapped around me I felt a rush of adrenaline.

————

We drove around the outskirts of town before making our way through the peaks, down along Boulder Canyon Drive then all the way to Barker Reservoir before turning back. I made sure to check in with her occasionally, shouting over the surprisingly warm winter wind and the roar of the engine, and every time I looked over my shoulder she was smiling bigger than I'd ever seen. It was a smile I didn't deserve, but one I planned on working hard to keep.

As we made our way back into the center of town, her arms seemed to grow tired from holding on for so long. They fell downward, each hand resting on the upper part of my thigh, her chest leaning against my back. The ring I'd given her shone brightly in the afternoon light. I almost had to pull over from how fast my heart was racing just from the sight.

If things were different, if I hadn't grown up in the business that I had, maybe we could have been doing this for the last ten years and I wouldn't have had to walk away.

I placed my feet on the asphalt as I pulled up to a red light. It had just turned, and I knew damn well how long this one took to complete its cycle, so I gave myself a moment to relax. I leaned back into her, and she didn't seem to fight it. Her warmth was enough to drive me wild on its own.

"Where are we going now?" She asked, her tone gentle even as she shouted over the roar of the engine.

I lifted my visor so she could hear me better as I turned my head toward her. Without thinking my hand found her thigh, resting gently. She didn't flinch. "I figured we could go on a walk around Pearl Street. Maybe some quick shopping if you're up for it. Mostly for the press."

"Okay."

We fell into a shockingly comfortable silence as we waited for the light to change. Slowly, easily, I traced little circles on the outside of her thigh, wishing I'd let her wear the skirt instead so I was touching skin instead of jeans. She rested her head on my back, sighing into me, and fuck I wanted to hear that sigh in another context. I wanted to touch her so badly. I wanted to drive us to someplace private and fuck her on the back of my Harley.

The light changed, knocking me back into the present moment. I had to move but the mental strength it took for me to let go of her thigh was almost unnerving. As I began to drive again, I felt her chin on my shoulder and her breath against my neck.

————

Holding her hand was something I wished had happened naturally. But it was for the press, for the occasional snap of a photo that came as we walked down Pearl Street, the light turning low as the sun began to set just below the peaks.

"You can talk to me, you know," I whispered, leaning down toward her ear.

"There's not a lot to say. We're engaged. Surely you know everything about me."

I snorted a light laugh as I stood up straight. "We can talk quietly, princess. They don't have to hear."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" She asked, her head snapping in my direction. Her fake smile was plastered on but no one would be able to tell the difference in photos. "It's not like I still call you panda bear."

Just hearing her old nickname for me was enough to knock the air from my lungs.

"Jack?"

"Sorry," I rasped, clearing my throat. "Old habits die hard, I guess. Would you rather I didn't call you that?"

She looked up at me, her eyes wide with far too many unasked questions behind them. She didn't speak as she turned her head away from me. "You said we could do some shopping, right?"

My mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert and I licked my lips before answering her. "Uh, yeah, of course. What do you want?"

She tugged me toward a store before I could even catch a glimpse of what it was. Lululemon. I should have guessed.

I stood by her side as she browsed the items in silence, the little reprieve from the press a chance to act fairly natural. Before I knew it, her arms were full of workout clothes and she was headed toward the checkout counter. I followed her silently, trying harder than I thought would be necessary to not stare at her body as the woman behind the counter scanned each item of clothing. Higher and higher the number on the screen ticked, hundreds, then just over a thousand. She's expecting me to pay, isn't she?

"Your total is one-thousand, two-hundred, ninety-eight dollars and ninety-nine cents," the woman said cheerfully, likely excited about the store's commission sales from this purchase alone.

Mandy's hand went to her pocket. "Oh, Jack, I seem to have left?—"

Beep.

She stared at my phone against the card reader, the sale going through in the time it took for her to catch on. "You paid for me?"

"Don't act like you weren't going to ask," I mocked, chuckling as I kissed the side of her head for good measure. I scooped up the handles of the bag and took the receipt from the far-too-happy sales associate, dragging Mandy back out of the store by her hand. "I doubt you go on thousand-dollar shopping sprees often."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snapped, pasting her happy face back on as we entered the sea of more press. "It's not an insult," I said. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I just knew you were going to ask me to pay. It's fine, I'm happy to."

"I could have paid," she grumbled, reaching across my chest toward the bag. "At least let me carry it, you old-fashioned goon."

I laughed as I held it away from her. "Absolutely not. And that's not just because the press will smear me for making my fiancé carry her own bags. I can see it now—America's once Top Bachelor not so much a catch as we thought."

The giggle she let escape forced my heart to skip a beat. It was a real one, a happy one. Another mental image I'd keep. "You're ridiculous."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked, squeezing her hand again as I looked down at her. So fucking beautiful.

"No. Yes. Maybe." She shrugged. "Can we sit? My legs are, like, weirdly exhausted from the motorcycle."

I led her across the street toward an empty bench as the street lamps began to flick on around us. The press was starting to get bored and thinning out, and I wanted a chance to actually just enjoy being a normal human with her when we could actually speak.

I propped the bag between my legs as we sat, her thigh brushing against mine, and put my arm around her. "Do you think it's working?" She asked softly, her head lolling onto my shoulder. It's just for the cameras if any are left. Don't get excited.

"If my PR team is right, then yeah, it'll start working soon. They'll run out of things to focus on. Right now, though, we're the hot new ticket in town. It'll die down." I drew little circles on the side of her arm, the little freckles peeking out as her skin erupted in goosebumps. "Are you cold?"

"What? No," she lied.

I rolled my eyes, leaning away from her enough to slide my leather jacket from my arms. I wrapped it around her shoulders before resuming our position. "You don't have to lie."

She hummed, sinking back into me far too easily. "You mentioned traveling. Are we still doing that?"

I nodded. "Yes. I was thinking we could head to New York, maybe Chicago. I've reached out to a few well-known architects in those areas and asked if they'd give us a tour of some of the best-designed buildings. I think it'll be good for inspiration."

Mandy fiddled with her ring, spinning it around her finger, studying it. It looked too perfect on her, and I'd be a liar if I tried to say that it didn't make my chest warm to see her wearing it. "Okay. I'll go with you."

I chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Thanks for not fighting me on that this time."

"Oh I will absolutely still fight you on it," she smirked, lifting her gaze back up to me. The temptation to lean down and kiss her was too much. "Don't you worry."

"Then why aren't you?" I breathed, unable to resist the urge to take her face in my hand. She sighed, turning into my palm.

"I just don't want to right now."

The walk back to the bike was short. I put her things into my saddlebags, locking them up tight before getting out our helmets. She watched me from the sidewalk, a sleepy grin spreading across her cheeks as the sunlight faded quickly. She looked far too beautiful, too tempting.

"Come on, princess," I cooed, holding out a hand for her. "Your chariot awaits."

She laughed as she stepped off the sidewalk, and as if in slow motion, I watched her foot land the wrong way. She grabbed my hand, falling forward too fast. I dropped the helmets, scooping her body up with my arm before she could hit the ground, one hand in hers and the other around her torso.

She looked up at me, her eyes twinkling in the streetlight, and dear God this woman might be the death of me. She blinked, confused, it all happening too quickly for her to comprehend.

I could kiss her. Right now. I could say it was for the press.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest as she wrapped one arm around my shoulders. It felt like time stopped as I watched her, the Mandy I knew all those years ago held so firmly in my grasp. Slowly, she lifted herself, closer to my lips. Let her. It has to be her choice.

Our breaths mingled for half a second before she stood upright, narrowly missing my lips. The blush on her cheeks made me believe that she'd felt it too, the pull, but the smug smile she gave me told a different story.

Such a fucking tease.