“No problem. ” She shot Rubi another grin and started for the front door. “Y’all enjoy all those pretty trees, now. ”
Wes moved around the table and kissed Abby on the head, then Emma. “Have fun with Grandma, girls. ”
“Love you, Uncle Wes. ” This came from Emma, soft and without ever meeting Wes’s gaze.
“Love you too, Emmie. ” He put a hand on Rubi’s shoulder and led her the same direction Whitney had gone. “Bye, Mama. ”
“Wait,” she said. “Rubi can’t ride in that. ”
“I’ll give her my jacket,” Wes said.
“Good Lord, Wes, it will swallow her. ” She pulled a black leather jacket off the back of her chair and walked it to Rubi with a smirk and a teasingly disgusted “Men. ”
Rubi took the jacket. “Thanks. ”
“Have fun,” she said, standing at the door as they trotted down the steps and turned toward the garage. “Be safe, please. ”
“Always,” Wes called back.
The door to one of the bays in the three-car garage was already open, and Wes walked toward a sleek silver BMW.
“Yum,” she said with enthusiasm.
Wes barked a laugh. “That’s a new one. I’m assuming you’ve ridden before. ”
“It was a really long time ago. ”
Wes’s grin widened. He took the jacket and held it open for her. Once she’d zipped it up, he pulled two helmets from a shelf and handed her one. “I tricked these helmets out with an intercom system—the same one I use at work—and stereo speakers. So you just talk, and I’ll hear you. ”
She slipped the
helmet on, and Wes made sure it was secure. He pulled a jacket from the wall, a snazzy short-waisted riding leather, much like the one Jax owned and Lexi had coveted on their first pseudo meeting. After pulling it on, he straddled the bike and patted the seat behind him.
Once she was settled, he pointed toward the rear wheel. “This is your footrest. Your arms go around me. Your body up against mine. ” He grinned. “Like, real close. ”
“Are you trying to make me hot, Lawson? ’Cause it’s working. ”
His lips quirked, and his eyes grew warm. “Relax and let your body follow mine. Just like you did last night. That was perfection. ”
She slid her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Agreed. ”
Twenty-Five
Rubi was in heaven.
She pressed her body against Wes’s back as he expertly guided the bike along the curving back roads. The roads overlooked vineyard after gorgeous vineyard all alight in golds and reds. His deep, smooth voice filled her ears as he pointed out different areas that held significance—every vineyard he’d harvested as a kid, every home of a high school buddy, every tiny lake hidden among the trees.
The sun was warm, the air thick and cool, the bike comfortable and fast, the trees absolutely brilliant shades of gold, orange, red, and green. She felt incredibly free, all her worries tucked far away. All but one—the realization that she was falling for Wes. Big-time.
She pushed the thought back into the shadows, just as she had for over a week now, and enjoyed the truly beautiful countryside. Wes took the tightest curves and corners with every ounce of his stunt-driving flare and Rubi enjoyed the fresh jolts of adrenaline. He’d cued a mix of Rubi’s favorite alternative rock—Fall Out Boy, Nickelback, Three Doors Down, Theory of a Deadman—and the invigorating music poured through the helmet, dimming only when she or Wes spoke into the intercom. Pretty damn slick.
She was beginning to realize that Wes Lawson was a freaking mechanical genius, and selling his rig for big bucks, setting him up financially for his future—if not for the rest of his life—had become increasingly important to Rubi. Good people deserved good things in life. She’d seen far too many people like her father gather all the wealth.
“These colors make me wish I was a photographer,” she said.
“The soil is so rich, everything grows here,” he said. “There’s silver maple, elm, mulberry, hickory, sumac, honey locust. The purple on your right are dogwoods and ash. There’s more than I could even name. ”
They edged into thicker stands of trees, and the vineyards and farming fields slowly disappeared until only trees bordered the roadside.