Page 15 of Sunny Undone

“Definitely not,” Ridge says. “It’s given to the man we all trust most. He keeps an eye on everyone. If someone breaks down, he stops. Helps get them going or waits with them for a tow so they aren’t alone. If someone’s missing, he notices. If someone crashes…” Ridge shrugs. “Nobody gets left behind because of Sunny. If I make sure we know how to get where we’re going, he makes sure everyone gets there.”

“You rescue things again,” Della says softly. “Things and people and bikes left behind.”

“You’re making me sound poetic,” I say uncomfortably. My phone lights up again with Mom. I ignore it…again.

“No. I’m not. It fits. With left-behind bookshelves and tables and kittens.”

I groan. “I knew telling you all about that was gonna come back to haunt me.”

Ridge turns to look at me. “Never thought about it like that, but she’s right. Even your mom. There’s no leaving her behind.”

I stretch and grip the back of my neck. Something about this itches. But, also, this is the first time I’ve been seen through someone else’s eyes and not been the dumb one or the funny one.

It’s another thirty minutes of conversation before we’ve eaten and are ready to go. Thirty minutes where I redirect away from the topic of my quirks into safer waters.

When we get to my truck, I open the door for Della. My hand brushes against her lower back as she shifts by to climb inside. She doesn’t seem to notice immediately, but she gives me a little smile when she turns to me as I close the door behind her.

So, as we ride in my truck, Ridge to my right, and Della in the back seat, what we’re all doing together comes to me like a movie trailer.

A woman in peril. An unknown enemy. Can two bikers help Dr. Della Hart save the world?

I do a quick re-write in my head because the world might be overstating it.

Can two bikers help Dr. Della Hart save Gator Flats?

That one sounds kinda boring and small and unworthy of Indy.

Can two bikers help Dr. Della Hart save the Florida Everglades?

Yeah, that one works better. I can see it now, me and Ridge, riding into view through some smoke, looking totally badass. A gunfight scene. Me and Della in a clinch that does little to ease the growing ache in my dick.

I’m reasonably certain that the reason this sounds like such a fucking quest is because I’ve learned through books how to see that the next adventure is just one more step of the mundane away.

Della’s on the phone to some chick called Mina. She’s part angry, part focused. It’s clear she’s a good explainer of things, like Mrs. MacInnis, as she tells Mina exactly what she needs.

Ridge looks over his shoulder once he’s sure she’s distracted, then leans to me over the console. “Why the fuck are we doing this again?”

I glance in the rearview mirror and see Della scribbling notes in the small notepad she picked up at the gas station. “You’re getting boring in your old age.”

Ridge huffs. “Does Knox know what we’re doing? Not that he’ll mind because it’s you. You could get away with murder as far as he’s concerned.”

I shake my head. “Nope. But it’s not like the club needed us for anything this morning. And Knox talks a big game about protecting Gator Flats.”

“There’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

I look over to him for a heartbeat. “Absolutely not. I was a total gentleman.” Even though my thoughts are leaning in a less than gentlemanly direction right now.

Ridge smirks. “I bet.”

“I mean, she saw my dick, but that was an accident. I forgot she stayed over.”

Ridge rests his elbow on the door and bites down on the side of this thumb. “You’re possibly the only man who thinks the manosphere is bullshit but decided the bit about sun on the balls was true.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Della asks, and it makes me wonder how much of the rest of the conversation she heard. Trust her to be able to hear two people speaking at the same time.

“It’s food for testosterone, fertility, and overall health,” I say.

“There’s no credible evidence that exposing your scrotum to ultraviolet radiation increases testosterone production,” Della says, moving slightly so she’s positioned in the gap between the two front seats.