Chapter Seven

Noah

The day started the same as yesterday—with me nursing a cup of that god-awful coffee from the front office, hoping to see Fiona. After spending most of the day yesterday stopping by the office, hoping for a glimpse of her, I finally caved and asked the sour-faced older woman at the desk where she was. The look she gave me could've soured milk.

"Called out sick," she said with a gruff edge, like I'd interrupted something way more important than her just sitting there doing nothing.

Sick? Sure, maybe. But my gut told me it was something else. Something to do with the night before in the break room. I'd let things get intense, pushed her farther than I probably should've, and now she was avoiding me. The thought made me want to punch myself in the face for being a dumbass.

The worst part? I don't even have her number. How the hell did I let that slip? I've the spent days I've been her thinking about her every goddamn minute, and now I have no way to reach out. I'm at the mercy of when or if she shows up at work again.

So, there I am, sitting on the curb outside the motel, trying not to drive myself nuts, when Steven calls me with what should be good news. He had a connection a town over that was able to drive over the part he needed and now my bike's ready days early. He offers to drop it off at the motel, which is a solid gesture.

When Steven finally drops the bike off later in the morning, he gives me a once-over like he knows I have something on my mind, but he doesn't ask. I appreciate that. I'm not in the mood to talk about it, especially not with a stranger.

"Bike's running smooth," he says, handing me the keys. "Shouldn't give you any more trouble. Took it for a spin myself. Purrs like a kitten now."

I give him an appreciative nod. "Thanks, man. You do good work."

"Anytime." He pauses, looking like he wants to say something else. "You know I have a girlfriend?"

My eyebrows rise at the weird diverge in conversation. "Uh, congrats?"

"Yeah, it feels like I won something," he admits with a wide grin. "She's half my age though and at first, I thought I didn't deserve her. Thought that maybe she'd be better off with someone else. A different life than the one I can give her."

Now this peaks my interest. "Really? What changed your mind?"

"I realized that if she chose me, then I need to trust her judgement." He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. "It's hard as men to admit when someone knows better than us, but women have this sense about them. They know who they want and if it's you they want, go with it."

I give him a once over. It's odd to get the advice I'm looking for from a stranger who should have no idea what's going on in my life.

"Thanks for the advice, but I don't know if it fits."

He shoots me another grin. "Girls talk. This town talks. Just take in what I said." With that, he walks away, climbing into his tow truck and pulling off without another look.

I stare after him for a second wondering what the hell any of that meant before I climb onto my bike, feeling the familiar weight of it under me, the engine rumbling beneath me as I twist the throttle. I hope that the ride will help clear my head a little. It usually does. There's something about the open road, about the wind rushing past and the hum of the engine that gets me out of my own head.

But today, even that isn't working.

All I can think about is Fiona.

I have my bike fixed, thanks to Steven, but that only makes my brain churn harder. The bike is ready. I should be ready too. Ready to hit the road and leave this sleepy town behind. But I'm not. Not when Fiona is still here. She's gotten under my skin, and I'm not sure what the hell to do about it.

I've been riding solo for years, never sticking around in one place too long. And that's how I like it. That's how I thought I liked it, at least. Bounty hunting pays well enough to keep me on the road, catching bad guys every few months and collecting my payout before moving on to the next town. It's a life I've come to love. I'm not tied down to anything, or anyone. No attachments. No roots.

But now? Now I have this gnawing feeling in my gut that leaving town would be a mistake. Not because I don't want to hit the road again, but because of her .

Fiona has me hooked. And the worst part is, I don't even know why. She's half my age. Probably looking for a guy who can give her the white picket fence, two-point-five kids, and all that bullshit. And here I am, a rough-around-the-edges biker who can't stay in one place for longer than a month without getting antsy.

Can I even give her what she wants? Hell, I'm not sure I can give any woman that. Not with the way my life's been going.

But damn it, I can't stop thinking about her. I can't shake the feel of her skin, the taste of her, the way her body pressed against mine in the dark of that break room. And I can't help but wonder if she's been thinking about me, too.

Fat chance, I tell myself as I finally pull back into the motel parking lot. She was avoiding me for a reason. I probably realized that getting involved with a guy like me is a mistake.

Still, I have to know. I have to see her, talk to her, and figure out if there is even the slightest chance that she is feeling the same way I am.

I park my bike outside the office and walk inside, hoping—again—that she'll be there.

And there she is, like a gift wrapped and left just for me, sitting behind the desk, looking as stunning as ever.

My heart does this stupid thing where it speeds up like I'm some damn teenager, and I have to remind myself to act like a grown-ass man.

"Hey," I say, leaning against the counter like I wasn't losing my mind over seeing her.

She glances up, her expression a little tight. "Hey."

Okay, something is definitely off. The last time I saw her, she was all smiles and flirting. Now she's distant. Guarded, almost. Did I push too far? I'm not used to all the doubt swirling through me.

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. "So, my bike's all fixed. Steven dropped it off this morning."

She nods, her eyes flicking up to meet mine for a second before darting away. "That's good. You can hit the road now."

I frown at her dismissive tone. "Yeah, I guess."

There's a beat of silence between us, one that feels heavier than it should. I want to ask her if she's okay, if I've done something to make her avoid me, but before I can get the words out, she speaks again.

"I've got a headache," she says, almost too quickly. "Probably not going to be very talkative tonight."

The way she says it feels like she is shutting me down before I can even try to hang out with her again.

I cross my arms over my chest, watching her carefully. "You sure it's just a headache?"

She doesn't answer right away, and when she does, her voice is clipped. "Yeah, just a headache. It happens."

I stand there for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell has changed. The night before, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. She avoids me for a full day and now, she can barely look at me. I wanted to believe that my idea that I moved too fast was silly. I mean she sure seemed to enjoy it when my head was between her legs, but maybe it isn't as silly as I thought. Maybe she's upset with me for it. Does she feel like I took advantage of her? She's so much younger than me. Did I take advantage of her?

I want to push. I want to ask her what's really going on, but I don't want to make her even more uncomfortable. I'm not the kind of guy who presses when a woman isn't in the mood. But this? This feels like more than just a bad day. More than just a stupid fucking headache.

"All right," I say, backing off a little. "I'll catch you later, then."

She gives me a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure. Maybe."

As I walk out of the office, I can't shake the feeling that I've fucked up somewhere along the line. Maybe I scared her off, made her think I was just another guy looking for a quick lay.

That would've been true for any of the other women I've met on the road. But the truth is, I want more than that with her. So much more than that. I don't know what the hell it is about Fiona, but she's gotten under my skin in a way that no woman ever has before. And now, I have to figure out if that is something worth staying for, or if I should just cut my losses and hit the road like I always do.

I spend the rest of the evening pacing around my room, trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do next. Part of me wants to leave town, just to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that is coming. To avoid the letdown of her rejection. But the other part of me—the part that has been thinking about her every damn second since we met—wants to stay. Wants to find a way to make this work, even though I know I'm not the kind of guy she probably saw herself with in the long run.

I've never been good at this relationship shit. Never wanted to be. But with Fiona, everything feels different. Everything feels bigger. More important. The stakes are higher and for the first time I'm wondering if I'm missing out in isolation. Is my life as fulfilling as I thought if Fiona isn't in it?

And for the first time in my life, I'm starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the road isn't the only thing worth chasing.

But I still don't know if she feels the same way. And until I do, I'm stuck in damn limbo, waiting for a sign that I haven't completely fucked this up.

Later that night, a thought pops into my head and I sit upright in my motel bed. It's a good idea—if she wants me. Steven's words run through my mind and I decide in that moment that the only way to know for sure is to take the risk. I have to decide if Fiona is worth facing the fear and I don't have to think about it to know she is. So, I call Steven and take the dive straight off the cliff.

Hopefully, this woman will be the net that catches me.