Four to Score (Stephanie Plum 4)

“This is entirely different.”

“This is no different! This is the same thing!”

“Jesus,” Morelli said. “Just get on the damn bike.”

“You're going to let me drive, right?”

?

??Yeah, you're going to drive.”

I ran my hand over the bike. It was sleek and smooth and red. Morelli had a second helmet strapped to the backseat. He unhooked the cord and gave me the helmet. “Seems a shame to cover up all those pretty curls.”

I buckled on the helmet. “Too late for flattery.”

It had been a while since I'd driven a bike. I settled myself onto the Duc and looked things over.

Morelli took the seat behind me. “You know how to drive this, right?”

I revved the engine. “Right.”

“And you have a license?”

“Got a bike license when I was married to Dickie. I've kept it current.”

He held me at the waist. “This is going to even the score.”

“Not nearly.”

“Entirely,” he said. “In fact, this ride's going to be so good you're going to owe me when it's done.”

Oh boy.