Home > Bounty (Colorado Mountain #7)(177)

Bounty (Colorado Mountain #7)(177)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Long may she reign.

* * * * *

Heart

Out in the middle of nowhere, nothing there but silver steel blinking in the bright sun, the door to the Airstream opened and the woman stepped out, the heavy waves and curls of her beautiful, long, dark hair lifting at the sudden warm wind that swirled around the trailer.

She wore a flowy, sleeveless, lacy top that hung down low over her hips in four points. Cut-off shorts frayed at the hems. Square-toed, dark-brown motorcycle boots on her feet, flowery socks you could see over the top rims.

She hopped down and a big man followed her, his beard thick, his hair long, pulled back in a mess, fastened at the back of his head.

The man stopped, one hand in hers, the other one lifting to lock the door of the trailer.

Dipping his chin, he looked down at her as he turned, tugging her along with him as he moved them both to the motorcycle parked six feet away.

He strode.

She skipped.

He grinned.

She giggled.

Positioning her out of the way, he threw a long leg over first, lifting the bike from its stand, kicking that stand back.

She mounted behind him with practiced ease, instantly pressing close, wrapping her arms tight around his stomach.

He fired up the bike, lifted a hand. Pulling some shades from the collar of his white tee, he flicked them out, slid them on.

She unearthed her glasses from that mess of hair and positioned them over her eyes.

Blue-lensed Ray-Ban aviators.

The Heart approved.

The man bent slightly to take hold of both grips.

The woman went with him.

His hand moved minutely and a fog of dirt kicked up as the bike shot forward, roaring out of the dirt right to the road.

The Heart moved.

Hovering in the middle of the road, he leaned forward and blew lightly.

Another gust of warm wind raced down the road, hitting the man and woman in the back, blowing her hair even more wildly than it was already moving around the man’s face.

The man smiled white at the horizon.

The woman rested her chin on his shoulder, pressed tight and sighed deep.

The Heart watched.

And he watched.

And when they were no longer a dot on the horizon, the rider and his gypsy disappearing into the sun, the Heart looked up.

And he went home.

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