Coop (Reckless Souls MC 1)

No, Daddy would use all of his considerable wealth and influence to make Coop’s life difficult, interfering with his business until nothing is left. I like Coop too much to let that happen.

The door opens behind me, and I turn to see Shades stroll out. He wears a knowing smile, and I know Coop told him about us.

“I’ve said what I came to say. You and Coop can get back to your business.”

I smile at the shaggy-haired brunette and shrug. “He’s going to put my car on the machine to see what’s wrong with it. That’s it.”

“None of my business,” he says and holds his hands up in a defensive posture. “Take care of yourself, Kelsey.”

I smile at his farewell. “Thanks. Stay safe on that bike. Shades.”

He holds up one hand and waves, and I watch his long legs carry him to the black and chrome motorcycle. A moment later, the engine roars to life, that rumble of thunder sending a shiver of excitement through me.

What is it about bikes and bikers that make them so damn sexy?

I shiver and turn back toward Ace Motors with a smile. There’s no trace of Coop anywhere, but the hazel-eyed man at the counter greets me with a smile.

“Kelsey, right?”

“That’s me. Is there a problem with my car?” If the problem takes too long, I’ll have to consider a rental because Daddy will never let me drive his Porsche. That’s his baby, while I am just his daughter.

“Not that I know of. Yet. Coop’s got her up on the machine now. It’ll be a few more minutes.”

“Oh. That was fast. Thank you.”

I’ve always heard that mechanics took their time and overcharge as if it was a foregone conclusion, but so far, Ace Motors exceeds my expectations.

“How much do I owe for the uhm, diagnostic thingy?”

His lips twitch in good humor, and I smile as my shoulders relax.

“That depends on what’s wrong with your car and if you let us service it.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you.”

Not even thirty minutes later, Coop strolls through a door behind the counter, a dark smudge across his cheek. He hands the dark-haired man a sheet of paper, rounds the counter and stops in front of me.

“Good news or bad?”

“Bad first,” I tell him. It’s always how I prefer to hear my news, bad news first, so we can finish on a good-ish note. My therapist says it’s part of my cycle of always expecting the worst, but I say it’s just good old-fashioned caution.

“It’s going to take a few days, maybe a week, to fix your car.”

My shoulders relax, and I nod at the mostly good news. “The good news?”

Coop shoves his hands in his pocket and smiles. “The car is fixable. I just need to order a few parts.”

I laugh. “That is good news. Thank you, Coop.”

“Not a problem. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

I blink at his gruff offer and shake my head. “That’s sweet but unnecessary. I can call an Uber.”

“I know you can, but now you don’t have to.”

Coop doesn’t wait for me to make up my mind, to offer up another argument. He takes my arm and pulls me toward the rear exit. “You ever been on a motorcycle?”

“No.” But I am eager as hell to hop on and feel the thunderous vibrations underneath me. “What do I have to do?”

Coop flashes another heart-stopping smile and lets one hand come to rest on my thigh. “Keep your feet here. Any lower, and you might get burned. Hang on tight, and most importantly, wear a helmet.”

“I don’t have a…helmet.”

I accept the shiny black helmet.

“Thanks.” I remove my ponytail and slide it onto my head with a grunt. “This thing is hardcore.”

He laughs. “It should be. It’s meant to protect your most important asset.”

Coop presses the helmet down a little further and tightens the chin strap. “Now you’re ready to go.”

“Do I look like a sexy biker chick?”

“No,” he grunts but not before I spot the smile on his plump lips. “Maybe a little.”

“I’ll take it.”

He laughs and slips one leg over the bike before he starts the engine. “Where to?”

“Bradford Street.”

One nod, and we’re off, the tires eating up the road, carrying us away from Ace Motors and toward my house. As we near my place, the streets get wider and quieter, more trees sit a few feet from the curb.

“Nice place.”

Coop’s words are off, distant, and slightly sarcastic. Immediately, I know what he’s thinking.

“Here we go again.” I roll my eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “Don’t judge me.”

He shrugs and removes his helmet before helping me out of mine.

“Why would I judge you for growing up and living in the lap of luxury?”

There it is, that hint of sarcasm that guys love to use to put up barriers between us.

“I’m not some rich bitch, Coop. I am a woman who lives with her father, a father who’s done very well in life.