Chapter 12

Mary Ellen hesitantly eyed my motorcycle. Apprehension and curiosity flashed in her eyes. I couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement at her reluctance, finding her reactions endearing in their own way. She was so innocent. There was something so pure about her. I couldn't explain why I was so drawn to her. She had me hooked.

Stepping closer to her, I held out the helmet I brought for her once more, a reassuring smile on my face. "Come on, Mary Ellen," I gently coaxed. "I promise you'll enjoy the ride. Let me help you let loose and have a little fun."

Mary Ellen chewed on her bottom lip, torn between her cautious nature and the thrill of stepping out of her comfort zone. After a moment of silent contemplation, she pulled on the helmet. I smiled as I helped fasten it under her chin. She was so damn cute, it made my chest hurt.

That's a new feeling. What is it about this chick?

"What about you?" she asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you have a helmet?"

I smirked. "No. I don't usually wear one unless I'm traveling out of state or there's a lot of bugs out."

She frowned. "That's not safe."

"I'm still here." I winked.

"Glad I wore pants today," she said. "This could have been very awkward."

I grinned. "You could have worn a skirt too."

"No thanks."

"Alright, do you want me to get on first or should I help you on?"

"I don't know," she said nervously.

"You go," I said.

Mary Ellen hesitantly climbed onto the back of my motorcycle. I held her hand, helping her balance. She was adorable and sweet, with an innocence that was both endearing and intoxicating. I took my seat in front of her.

"Wrap your arms around my waist," I instructed. "Don't be afraid to use your legs to squeeze my body and keep your balance."

"Please don't go fast," she said again.

I started the engine, and the sudden growl made her jump against me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and her legs hugged my body deliciously. I couldn't help but feel a tightening in my pants that had nothing to do with the throttle.

I eased the bike into motion with painstaking care. It felt like a crime not to open her up and let her roar, but this girl was worth it, and I didn't want to scare her off before we even got started. So, I took it slow, so slow that I was worried I might stall the bike. Mentally, I apologized to my motorcycle for subjecting her to such a crawl.

Mary Ellen held on tight, her grip unyielding as she squeezed me with her thighs. Her body pressed against mine in a way that sent my heart racing and my mind wandering to places it had no business going in the light of day. But after a bit of time, her hold loosened, and I could tell she was starting to get into the ride.

I took her down a winding, lazy road, with the sun on our faces and my hair blowing. "This is crazy!" I heard her yell behind me.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at Mary Ellen's exclamation. That was the reaction I had been hoping for. A woman as bottled up as she was needed to feel the wind in her hair sometimes.

Her initial anxiety seemed to have melted away, replaced by exhilaration. Her arms no longer clutched me tightly but instead rested comfortably around my waist. Her excited laughter mingled with the roaring engine. It sounded like music.

"Want to keep going?" I asked.

"Yes!" I heard her say.

As we cruised along the open road, I stole glances at Mary Ellen behind me. Her hair streamed out behind her and there was a huge smile on her face. She was loving it. I could feel her stress melting away.

I guided the motorcycle smoothly around a bend, the purring engine beneath us steady and comforting. Mary Ellen leaned into the turn with me, her trust in me evident. I went a little faster but not too fast. The way her legs tightened on mine told me when it was too fast, and I backed off, even though it felt good.

I wanted her to enjoy the ride. I didn't want her terrified.

As we rode along, I couldn't ignore the electricity building between us. Mary Ellen's body pressed against mine felt like a perfect fit, and the way she unconsciously nuzzled her cheek against my back sent a shiver down my spine. It turned out, she wasn't the only one getting a thrill on this ride. All of my senses were amplified by her presence.

After a good thirty-minute ride, I started back to the restaurant district and pulled into a cozy little bistro for tapas. I cut the engine and slid my leg off the bike.

She pulled off the helmet, revealing a mess of windblown hair and flushed cheeks. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. I couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked in that moment. As she swung her leg over the bike and hopped off, I reached out to steady her.

"My feet are asleep," she admitted with a laugh. "In fact, I'm basically numb right up to my hips. All that vibrating."

"I can massage the tingles out, if you'd like," I offered.

She turned neon red, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Um, no, that's okay. I'll manage."

I grinned, enjoying the way she squirmed under my teasing gaze. "Just kidding," I said, giving her a playful wink. "But seriously, let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," she said. "I never would have thought I'd enjoy something like that."

As we waited for feeling to return to her legs, we made small talk about the weather and my bike. "Ready to go in?" I asked after we walked around the parking lot a bit, getting her circulation back.

"Yes, please."

We went inside and got a table. Menus were quickly delivered along with glasses of water. "Do you want a drink?" I asked.

"Um, just a Diet Pepsi."

When the waitress came back, I ordered two drinks while we continued to study the menu. Mary Ellen was trying to hide behind hers, like she was afraid to look at me directly. It was cute. She was still shy.

I caught her staring at the ink covering my forearms. To a girl like her, I supposed it was alarming to be sitting down to dinner with a tatted dude.

"Do they bother you?" I asked.

She looked at me like she'd been busted. "What?"

"Do the tattoos bother you?" I asked.

She blushed, her eyes darting away before returning to meet mine. "No, not at all," she said softly. "I actually think they're really cool." Her gaze went back to the intricate designs etched into my skin. She looked up at me, a hint of curiosity shining in her eyes.

"Thanks," I replied with a grin. "Each tattoo has a story behind it."

Her interest piqued, Mary Ellen leaned in slightly, her voice filled with curiosity. "Can you tell me about them?"

I shrugged, looking down at my arms and remembering when I got every single tattoo. "Some of them are personal," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly.

"No, it's fine." I turned my arm over and pointed at the tattoo on my wrist. "This one here," I began, "is for my mom. It's her favorite flower." It was one of the first tats I got. I thought it would make my mother happy. She was too horrified by the fact I got a tattoo to be flattered by my gesture.

Mary Ellen smiled. "That's beautiful," she whispered. "Are you guys close?"

I chuckled. "No. That's a story for another day."

"Sorry."

"Mary Ellen, stop apologizing. This one represents my love for riding." I pointed to the image of a Harley on the inside of my bicep. "The rest are just kind of moments in my life I wanted to remember."

"Good memories?"

I looked at the tattoo I had gotten in prison. "Not all," I replied. "So, what about you? Any ink of your own?"

She shook her head. "No, I've always been too chicken to pull the trigger. But I have a bunch saved on Pinterest. Maybe one day I'll get brave enough to actually get one. I'd love to be a cool kid."

I grinned, admiring her honesty. "Well, you don't need tattoos to be sexy or cool, Mary Ellen," I said, my voice low and teasing. "But if you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to go with you. I know a really talented artist. Very gentle with the needle, too."

She blushed again and smiled. "Thank you, I'll think about it."

God, this girl. She was something special.

"What's going on with the library?" I asked. "Are they still going to tear it down?"

"Unfortunately, I think so." She sighed.

I saw the disappointment in her eyes. The waitress came by and took our orders before drifting away again.

"So, how about Friday night?" I suggested.

"What about Friday night?"

"We can get together and start brainstorming ideas for a fundraiser to save the library," he said. "That's what it comes down to, right? The library needs serious rehab, and instead of putting the money into restoring it, they want to take the money from a developer."

She looked surprised that I actually understood how this kind of thing worked. "Yes. I believe that's it."

"We'll get the community involved, make some noise about this. I ran some campus events back in college, so I think organizing something like this shouldn't be too difficult. There must be other people who care about the library and want to see it protected. Besides, does this town really need more condos?"

Mary Ellen's face lit up at the suggestion. "Are you serious right now?"

I laughed. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because I happen to like the library." I shrugged. "I like the feel. It's got a good vibe. I want to help."

"I would love that," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "I'm so glad to have someone in my corner who is willing to take action. I feel like I'm all alone in this fight. Like no one else cares if we lose a library. They'll just go to another one, but that's not how I feel."

"It's my pleasure, Mary Ellen. Let's make this happen."

Our meals arrived a little while later. "Tell me what you think the library is missing. Maybe we can pitch some changes that would make it more inviting to the community."

Mary Ellen's eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she launched into a passionate tirade about her favorite place on earth. Her shyness melted away and she turned into a talking machine as she outlined her vision for the library—more community events, updated technology, more cozy reading nooks, and so much more. She wanted more programs for the local kids and an updated children's section.

The more she spoke, the more I found myself drawn to her. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her hands gestured animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of what the library could become. It was infectious, her passion igniting a fire in me that I hadn't felt in a long time. The meek little mouse I had first met was gone. In her place was a passionate woman that had a lot to say.

I couldn't help but smile. "You've got some fantastic ideas there."

She blushed at the praise. "Thank you," she said softly. "I just want to do everything I can to save the library. I tend to go on rants. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," I said. "I love hearing you talk about something you're so passionate about. It's inspiring."

Mary Ellen's blush deepened. "Thanks. My friends always tell me I'm talking about it way too much."

"I want to hear it. It will help us come up with a plan to save the library. Let's figure out your vision."