Billionaire's Single Mom

"Why would you be willing to go through so much trouble just for me?"

"You have the all-American look I want for this cover. I don't want anybody else except you, but you'll have to learn how to ride first. The fact that our models truly enjoy riding motorcycles is what makes our magazine stand out among the competition. It's what makes the models who appear on it resonate with the public. So, do you want the riding lesson and job?"

"Yes!" I grinned joyously. This was a dream come true for me and my heart was bursting with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Mr. Colson went over the terms of the modeling contract with me, and it was incredible. Up until then, the most I'd ever made on a job was a thousand dollars. This was much, much more. I'd be featured in a story layout for the newest motorcycle they were debuting in the issue, and I'd appear on the cover. It was the most exposure I'd ever had as a model and sure to get me noticed in the industry. Many models that were now world-famous had gotten their start on the cover of Speed Magazine. It was an incredible opportunity, and the money was going to be a lifesaver for us. Now Mick and I would finally be able to have that wedding I'd always dreamed of and still have enough left over to rent a decent apartment and tuck away some money for later. It was a dream come true, and I was crying tears of happiness as I signed my name on the contract.

"Oh, look at me. I'm a mess." I blushed, dabbing at my eyes with a tissue after catching a glimpse of myself in the reflective surface of the chrome on his desk.

"Don't worry about it. The photoshoot isn't until next week. That gives us plenty of time to get you familiar with riding on a bike."

He called his assistant into the room and told her to fit me with some riding gear. I found out her name was Angela, and even though she smiled constantly, I got the impression she didn't like me very much. Perhaps she was one of the objectors who thought I didn't have enough experience. Oh, well. It didn't matter. Mr. Colson wanted me for the job, and now it was mine.

I'd never worn a riding jumpsuit before. I was surprised at how comfortable it felt, despite the extremely tight fit. The boots hugged my feet like they were made just for me, and so did the gloves. The helmet felt strangely snug, but I knew I'd get used to it.

"How do I look, Mr. Colson?" I smiled as I entered the massive garage in the basement of the building. It was filled with hundreds of motorcycles, all them looking shiny and new. He was standing next to a pair of matching bikes with an innovative new design that I correctly guessed must be the All-American. Both the bikes were comprised entirely of black leather, steel, and shiny chrome.

"You look like a pro already. Please, call me Ethan. It distracts from freedom of the open road if we're being so formal with each other, and I want you to get a proper sense of what it means to be a true biker."

"Okay, Ethan." The feeling of calling him by name made me flush, but I liked the sound of it. I liked it even better when he called me by mine.

"Okay then, Kayla. Hop on one, and I'll teach you everything you need to know about riding a motorcycle."

I chose the blue one and the lessons began. The garage was spacious enough that we could ride around in it, but after a short time, Ethan surprised me by saying, "Okay, you're doing great. Now, let's take it out on the open road."

"You're kidding." I thought he was being like Mick and teasing me with a lie, but he was dead serious. Feeling my stomach tie up in knots, I said, "But I've never even been on a bike before today."

"Well, you've mastered brakes, using your mirrors, safety, accelerating, and even turns. The only thing you need to learn now is the joy of riding, and that is best found out on the open road. Follow me. I won't go anywhere you can't keep up. You're safe with me."

As he said the words, I knew it was true. Ethan wasn't the kind of man who would push me too far or take me out of my capabilities. He'd been nothing but patient and encouraging during our lessons that afternoon, gently guiding me when I needed it and even giving me the courage to push myself to try things I never would have dared before. All the while, I knew he was looking after me and keeping me safe. He was a protector and a teacher, not a bully. I could trust him.

He rode out of the garage into the bright, afternoon light, and I followed behind him at an easy pace. Soon, he had guided me out onto a country road I never would have known was there, hidden against the hills behind the corporate offices and high-rises. The road sloped and turned, and when it came to a long straight away Ethan opened up the engine and took his bike up to high speeds.

I surged forward to catch up with him, gasping at the thrill the sudden acceleration caused me. It was exhilarating, freeing, and fun. He slowed down so I could catch up with him, and feeling playfully daring, I passed him. Now, I was in the lead, and it was up to him to follow me. It was so wonderful, like being a child at play again. It had been a long time since I'd had that feeling. Too long.

When we came to a large, op

en clearing with a large oak tree growing in the center, Ethan waved and gestured with his hand, indicating for me to pull over. I came to a slightly awkward halt under the tree, and Ethan pulled up beside me and took off his helmet. His hair was a mess, and he was grinning widely.

"You did great. How do you feel?"

"I think I've got the hang of this." I smiled. I had pulled my helmet off, too. I knew my hair was just as messy as his and I tried to smooth it with my hands, but that only made it worse.

"I think you're ready for the shoot next week. Let's take a rest before we head back."

He'd packed some bottled water and some trail mix in the container on the back of his bike, and I accepted some gratefully. We sat in the tall grass under the shade of the magnificent tree and just enjoyed the afternoon breeze through our hair and the sunshine on our faces.

"I finally understand why bikers like to ride so much. I always thought they were crazy. Why would anyone want to be exposed to the weather when they could be safe in the comfort of a car? Now I know, this is so much better. It's so freeing and fun."

"I'm glad I could make a convert out of you." Ethan's eyes danced as he grinned at me.

"Have you always been into motorcycles?" I asked and listened with interest as he told me about his years working for Kruger in the motorcycle parts division and how it slowly turned into a passion for bikes and riding.

"You must have been scared when you put your first motorcycle on the market. I mean, starting your own company like that and having it all depend on the success of that one bike; that's a lot of pressure," I said, feeling somewhat in awe of the courage it must have taken to leave a secure career and go for his dreams.

"I guess, but I didn't think of it that way when I was living it. You just follow your gut and take each moment as it comes. It must have been similar for you, leaving your hometown to come to L.A. to be a model."

"I guess it was. I didn't think about the consequences, at all. I just packed my suitcase, threw it in the back of my boyfriend's car, and off we went."