Page 136 of Bad Attitude
She glances at me, then lowers her eyes, cheeks tingeing. “Do you know I hate blushing?” she asks suddenly, with a note of frustration. “I never used to. I hate you for that, Declan Hale. You’re the worst.”
“I’m taking it as a compliment.”
She huffs at me, then heads for the bedroom. “Five minutes. And don’t you dare follow me; we’ve got a six-hour ride ahead of us.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I still watch her ass beneath that coat.
The 101 takes us out past Thousand Oaks, and I glance that way out of habit. Raven has us on comms, so we can talk as we ride, and she must’ve seen the look I gave.
“Do you like that town?”she asks.“It’s kinda quiet.”
I almost tell her I had a house there a while back, but that’s Maddox’s finances, not Hale’s. “Just somewhere I figure might be good to raise a family one day.”
She says nothing for a breath or two, long enough for me to realize what I just implied.“Is that on your mind?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Maybe?” I’ve never considered it, and the response I just gave surprised me as much as it’s surprised her.
“No kids already?”she asks.
I laugh. “Not that I’m aware of. I did tell you I suit up.”
“Apart from with me. Right.”
“Everything is different with you, Hellcat.”
Past Ventura, we ride along the coast, the ocean calm. Then at Santa Barbara, we take the 154 to cut the corner. It’s a nice climb up through the Santa Ynez Mountains, bends every few hundred yards. We race together, pushing it, swapping the lead from time to time.
“On your outside, Romeo,”Raven tells me as she zips by, and I laugh with delight into my helmet.
“You can have the next mile, then I’ll take you again.”
“If you can catch me.”
“If I can’t, I’ll wait until the motel room and take you there.”
There’s a fainteepover the radio, and I grin to myself. But Raven bends low over her tank, and makes it difficult for me to pass her. It takes me two miles, not one, and then she’s back in the lead three bends later.
She flips me the bird as she overtakes.“Told you I was better.”
“Better bike.”
“You’re not wrong, but that sounds like a bullshit excuse.”
I concede that one. “Youarebetter,” I say. “Why haven’t you gone pro?”
“Women don’t race, Declan,”she replies.“I’d never be taken seriously.”
“You’re good enough,” I argue. “Why don’t you try?”
“It’s not about being good enough. It’s about team backing and getting a competitive bike. Who’s going to put their money on a woman?”
“Their loss,” I grind out.
“Don’t sulk, Romeo. I’m happy riding here, with you, and robbing banks with Kurt.”
It’s an untimely reminder that I’m here to do a job. “Are you really?” I ask. “Robbing banks, I mean. That make you happy?”
