"That's what they tell me." When he smiled, his teeth shone brightly in the sunlight. Bracing his hands on the handle bars of the bike, he leaned forward slightly. The muscles in his arms bulged and Jenny could detect the strong veins beneath the taut skin. "Go for a ride with me?"
Drawing her eyes away from him, she closed the backseat door with emphasis and opened the driver's. "A ride? You're insane." She looked askance at the cycle.
"Nope. Only incorrigible." She made a face at him and his grin broadened. "Come on, Jenny. It'll be a blast."
"No way. I'm not getting on that thing."
"Why?"
"I don't trust your driving."
He barked a short laugh. "I'm stone sober."
"For once."
It was his turn to make a face.
Jenny said, "I've ridden with you in a car before and risked life and limb every mile. Even the highway patrolmen salute you when you whiz by. They know they couldn't possibly catch you."
He shrugged, sending all sorts of muscles into play. "So I like driving fast. I'm safe."
"I'm safer. No, thank you," she said politely and slid beneath the steering wheel of her car. "Besides, the ice cream's melting," she said through the window as she started the engine.
He followed her home, weaving the cycle in and out and around her, making her stop and start lurchingly a dozen times in an effort to keep from crashing with him. Beneath the shaded visor of his helmet his grin was wide. Through her windshield she tried to look stern and disapproving, but she was laughing by the time they reached the parsonage.
"See?" He parked the motorcycle beside her car and pulled off his helmet. "Perfectly harmless. Come for a ride with me."
The sun struck his hair just right, turning it the color of ripe wheat. Through his dense, sun-tipped lashes, his eyes were compelling. Jenny hesitated, the sack of groceries growing heavier in her arms.
"When's the last time you did something spontaneous?" he asked her temptingly.
The night I seduced Hal.
But she didn't even want to think about Hal. He had been gone for ten weeks. Cage visited the parsonage often. He always popped up unexpectedly, as he had today in the grocery store parking lot. If she didn't know better, she would think he was following her.
"I can't, really," she hedged.
"Sure you can. Hurry. I'll help you put away the ice cream."
There was no arguing with him. The groceries were stashed in the pantry and refrigerator with dispatch, and since Bob and Sarah weren't at home, Jenny was fair game. Cage knew exactly how to sniff out weakened prey and bring it down.
"Pretty please," he begged, bending his knees to bring his face down on a level with hers. The lines on either side of his mouth deepened into dimples that should have been outlawed as a public menace. "With sugar on it."
"Oh, all right," Jenny surrendered with an irritated sigh. Actually her heart was pounding with anticipation.
He gripped her arm firmly and dragged her outside before she could change her mind. "I even have a helmet for you." He eased it over her head and reached beneath her chin to snap the strap closed. For an instant, only an instant, their eyes locked. He touched her cheek. But before she could determine exactly what the gleam in his eyes meant, the moment was over and he was instructing her on how to mount the motorcycle.
When she was situated on the padded seat, he swung his leg over an
d said, "Now put your arms around me."
She hesitated, then gingerly closed her arms around his middle. When her hands came in contact with his bare front, the fuzzy hair tickled her wrists, and she yanked her hands away. "I'm sorry," she muttered, as though she had bumped into a stranger on an elevator. Her heart was knocking painfully against her ribs.
"It's all right." He took her hands in his and folded them together just above his waist, pressing them against him. "You have to hold on tight."
Jenny's head was buzzing. Her throat had gone dry. If she hadn't been afraid of becoming dizzy and possibly falling off, she would have shut her eyes as he started the motorcycle and guided it down the street. She kept her hands perfectly still, though she had the mad urge to comb her fingers up through his chest hair and to knead the hard muscles of his chest with her fingers.
"How do you like it so far?" he shouted back at her.