CHAPTER NINE

When I woke up the following morning, I stretched, yawned, and spotted something metal on my nightstand. Seeing the handcuffs, the events of the night before flooded back, and I smiled. Jack had been conscientious about not hurting me. He kept one hand on the chain, pinning my hands above my head, while he made the most passionate, sensual, steamy love to me. I know I've used the phrase a time or two, but it was hot as hell! I never thought about doing these kinds of things before, but as I've said, he is bringing out a whole new me. New experiences that revealed themselves were endless with Jack.

I rolled to my side, and Jack was still sleeping. He was lying on his stomach, his arms on either side of his head, and his hands tucked under his cheek. He was facing me, and his relaxed expression was at such peace. Moments like these were my favorite. I moved closer, my face even with his, and watched him as he slept. The occasional twitch, the way the corner of his mouth curled up just slightly, and the movement of his eyes beneath his eyelids were a few of Jack's idiosyncrasies that only I was privy to.

Several minutes into watching Jack sleep, his eyes eased open and locked with mine. The corner of his lip lifted further into a smile, and he moved his arm to my waist and drew me in against him.

"Good morning, Baby," he said as he nuzzled against my neck. I loved it when he did things like that. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, I did, officer."

Jack laughed against my skin, sending a vibrating chill through my shoulders. "We'll have to get the cuffs out again some time...soon."

"Maybe on you next time."

Jack lifted his head and stared down at me as I rolled to my back. "Hmm, you want to cuff me?"

"Fair is fair, right?"

"I suppose so." Jack sat up and scooted back until he was leaning against the headboard. He bent one knee up, and the covers fell around his thigh and foot. I could see the scar on his leg from the gunshot wound, and I sat up and moved closer.

"Did this hurt much?" I asked as I brushed my fingertips across the small, rough circle.

"Yes, it hurt enough," he answered, smiling.

"Can you tell me about it?" Although I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it, I was also inquisitive and needed to learn everything about Jack.

"What do you want to know?"

I moved in beside him, and he draped his arm around me and played with the ends of my hair. "Everything. What happened, how it felt, what the doctors did?"

"Well, I was making a routine traffic stop. I had pulled over a jacked-up truck that ran a red light and was speeding, and everything seemed normal until I turned to walk back to my car to run the man's license. I heard him open his door, and as I spun around, he fired. I heard the gunshot, and then my leg was knocked out from beneath me. I crawled to the back of my car as fast as I could and pulled my gun out, but he had already driven away."

"That must have been so scary."

"It was. It took me a minute to realize what had even happened, then I called it in and waited for the ambulance. The driver turned out to be a major drug dealer in the area and had given me a fake I.D. He had just shot and killed another officer earlier that evening."

"Oh, my gosh. I remember hearing that story on the news. That officer had been shot in the head." I thought I might be sick as I imagined that happening to Jack.

"Yes, he was. It had everyone at the station on edge until he was caught."

"And what about this?" I asked as I touched his thigh.

"They removed the bullet, and I spent one night in the hospital. I went home the next day, took a couple of weeks off, then back to work as usual."

"That's it?"

"Yep, that's it."

I traced the letters across Jack's right bicep. The first time I saw them, I wasn't sure what they said. They were solid black tribal shapes, and once Jack told me it was his daughter's name, I could clearly see the letters spelling Alex. He told me he chose that location because he was her protector, so she was under his wing. The thought he put behind his tattoos amazed me. I had seen so many of my friends run out and get one – just because. But not Jack. His were well thought out and planned. Except for the ship he got as a teen during a drunken bender.

We heard a loud thud from down the hall, so we jumped out of bed, threw some clothes on, and went to investigate. I could hear Rosemary moaning and rushed into her room to find her lying on the floor.

"What happened?" I asked as I ran to her side.

"Where am I?"

"You're at our house," Jack answered and helped her to her feet and onto the edge of the bed.

"Oh, shit. My head."

"I'll get the ibuprofen," I said and started for the door.

"What was she drinking the most of?" Jack asked.

"I don't know, a little bit of everything. She had a few tequila shots."

"Grab the tequila from the cabinet above the fridge." Jack saw my face and added, "Trust me."

I did as requested and returned with a bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of tequila. Jack took the latter and poured a small amount into the glass I brought.

"Rosie, drink this."

"What? No, I don't want any more. I feel like I'll vomit."

"Trust me, Rosie. Drink this; it will help."

Rosie did, and within a few minutes, her stomach began to settle. "How did that work?"

"It raises your blood alcohol level, so you don't experience the hangover symptoms as much. Now you can start drinking tons of water to help when your blood alcohol returns to normal. It doesn't make it go away; it just helps mask it a bit until you can do other things to help."

"Well, however it works, thank you, Jack."

"Don't be thanking me yet. You're still going to pay for last night's activities," Jack teased.

"It was worth it," Rosemary quipped. "I didn't think of Rhett all evening."

"I'm really sorry he did that to you, Rosie," Jack said. "Any man who does that to his wife is a lowlife coward."

Rosemary turned to Jack and smiled. "Why can't I meet someone like you?"

"God broke the mold after Jack," I joked.

"Okay," Jack said and started to the door. "I'll let you two talk." As he left the room, he pulled the door shut and stared at me through the opening as it narrowed.

"Beth, you are the luckiest woman alive to have found a man like Jack. And I'm not referring to his looks. He's so kind, and he loves you so much. I can tell he'd never do anything like that to you just by the way he looks at you. Rhett never looked at me that way."

"You'll find someone, Rosie. I promise. Jack and I stumbled upon each other. Neither of us was looking, especially me," I assured her. She knew the story of how Jack and I had met and, on many occasions, reminded me of what an idiot I was at the beginning. I didn't argue with her. I was!

As we sat on the bed, Rosemary talked about her past couple of years with Rhett. She had felt a distance growing between them, but she'd never fathomed he would cheat on her. Now she knew and looking back, she could see the signs she had previously missed.

"I'm so stupid," she berated herself.

"Rosemary, this is not your fault." I said that very sternly to make my point. "Rhett is the one that was in the wrong. He's the one that cheated. He's the one that lied. You had no reason to think he would do this. Rhett is the one at fault here and only Rhett. Don't let me hear you blaming yourself for any of this."

Rosie nodded in agreement, but I could tell she still held herself accountable for certain things.

"Feel up to eating?"

"Maybe. I can try."

By the time we reached the kitchen, Jack was already at the stove cooking omelets. After a quick kiss on his cheek, I poured two cups of coffee, and Rosemary and I took them out into the sunroom.

"This space is amazing," Rosie commented as she walked around the perimeter of the room, checking out the view.

"It's my favorite place in the house."

"Oh? Not the bedroom?" she asked me with a wink.

"Rosie!" She wasn't wrong. I did love my alone time with Jack.

We sat in the white chairs that faced the windows and sipped our coffee, and Rosie fell silent. I let her be for a little while, then urged her to talk to me.

"What am I going to do?" she asked as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I don't know, Rosie. You do all you can do. Pick yourself up, move on, and find what makes you happy. You've been living your life for him for so long. It's time to live it for you."

Rosemary nodded in agreement as I spoke to her, knowing I was right. We've talked about it in the past. She loved Rhett, and he had loved her, but she would tend to do things he wanted to do. Rhett hadn't forced her to; he hadn't refused to do what she enjoyed; Rosie just wanted to make sure he was happy more often than doing what made her happy.

"What do you want to do? Name one thing you've always wanted to do but never brought up because you didn't think Rhett would like it."

Rosie sat and thought quietly for a few minutes, then lifted her eyes to mine. "I want to take a trip where we throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands. Rhett always had to plan everything out and was never spontaneous. I want to just go."

"That sounds amazing. Let's do it."

"What?" Her eyes grew as wide as saucers at the suggestion.

"Yes. Let's do it. I have a map somewhere," I said as I stood and left the room. I returned with a folded map of the United States and a felt tip pen. "I don't have a dart, but I have this pen and this," I added as I held up a blindfold.

"Seriously?" she asked.

"One hundred percent." I unfolded the map, spread it across the small coffee table, and removed the cap from the pen. "Here." Rosie took the pen as I wrapped the blindfold over her eyes.

"What are you two doing in here? Some sort of new kinky girl thing?" Jack asked with a shocked expression.

"Jack Thornton. Keep dreaming," I teased him. "Rosie is picking out our next girls' trip."

Intrigued, Jack sat on the arm of the loveseat and watched. I spun her around twice, then held her hand over the map.

"Where are we going, Rosie?"

I could see the smile on her face beneath the point of the handkerchief as she lowered her hand. She moved it around until she made contact, then holding the pen in place, she lifted the blindfold. We both bent down to see the red dot off the shore of North Carolina.

"Well, I don't think we want to go into the Atlantic," I teased her. "But the Outer Banks is right there."

Rosemary stood and stared at the map as several emotions flashed across her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Can I do this?" she asked as she dropped onto the loveseat.

"Absolutely. Because I'm going with you. Are you okay with that, Jack?"

"Of course," he answered with his adorable smile.

The dimple in his left cheek made an appearance, and I caught myself staring at it for a second. Returning my attention to Rosemary, I noticed she had begun to cry. Without saying a word, I moved to the seat beside her and held her in my arms until she cried all the necessary tears.

"Thank you, Beth."

"Of course, Rosie." I pushed her long blonde hair from her face and wiped my knuckle across her cheek to catch a stray tear. "So, when are we going?"

Rosemary laughed and looked at Jack. "You don't care if I drag her away for a weekend?"

"You two go do whatever you need. I can hold down the fort here and take care of the kids."

"You've got yourself a keeper," she said quietly.

I agreed.

So, plans were made for the following month. We would fly into Raleigh and rent a car to drive to the east coast. We had even found an Airbnb to rent on a canal. Faith and the other girls were invited, and all had agreed to go. Rosie was finally getting excited, and it began to open her eyes to all she had missed over the past six years with Rhett.

That afternoon, after we dropped Rosemary off at her home, Jack and I ran to the house to get the Harley. The kids wouldn't be back for another four hours, so we decided to enjoy some time outside. The day was perfect. The spring flowers and blossoms were out in their full glory, the temperature was in the low 70s, and the sun shone brightly. We'd only taken the bike out a few times since that first day Jack had ridden up on it, and I was ready to get it out again.

As Jack turned onto the highway and punched it, the adrenaline kicked in, and my heart began to race as it always did. After our first ride, Jack added a backrest for me, which I gratefully appreciated, and I relaxed as he gently swayed the bike back and forth. I loved it when he did that. And I will admit, the sight of Jack in his black leather coat, boots, and blue jeans while sitting on the Harley has not gotten any easier for me to look at without wanting to drag him back into the house. I doubt that it ever would.

An Ed Sheran song was piped into our helmets as he turned onto a small country road. Trees lined along both sides, many covered in small white blossoms, as we drove along a large horse ranch. The area was gorgeous and one of my favorite places to ride.

Jack's hand rested on my calf as always, and occasionally he would squeeze it or run his hand up and down my leg. I knew he was always thinking of me in everything he did. He slowed to a stop, removing his hand to steady the bike, rolled forward, and turned right to continue along the highway and other farms and ranches. As we came over a hill, a pickup pulled out of a drive in front of us, and Jack hit the brakes, slamming me into his back. I moved my arms around him, holding on for dear life as the bike began to pitch sideways.

I was scared to death during those few seconds when I didn't know if we would hit the truck. No matter how safe Jack made me feel, I did not feel safe for about two seconds – though it felt like two minutes. As we neared the back of the truck, going sideways, might I add, Jack bent his arm and pushed his elbow back toward me, using himself as a barrier between me and the truck. We had slowed just enough that when we made contact with the tailgate, Jack pushed out with his arm, which was the only thing that touched the pickup. I couldn't believe it. All I could picture was us going under the truck, but miraculously, Jack kept us upright.

My entire body was shaking when everything stopped. Jack moved so quickly, getting the bike on the kickstand and jumping off to check on me. I could see his mouth moving, but I couldn't hear his voice. He held my hands between his, trying to calm me down. The driver of the truck ran around to check on us and attempted to talk to me as well.

Then, just as quickly as Jack's voice had vanished, I could hear him again.

"Beth. Beth, talk to me. Are you alright? Elizabeth."

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," I finally stammered.

"Are you hurt?" the other man asked.

"I...I don't think so. No. I feel okay. Oh my God, Jack, you're bleeding."

He hadn't even noticed his arm until I pointed it out. Blood was dripping off the heel of his hand, and he pulled his sleeve back. When his arm grazed the truck, it had caught on the edge of the tailgate, ripping his shirt and leaving a four-inch gash along his outer forearm. Jack ripped his sleeve off from the elbow down and wrapped it around his arm, securing it by tying the ends together, using his free hand and his teeth. He had clearly done this before, if not on himself, then on someone else.

I was still so shaken up I was worthless to help him. I sat there and stared. When he was finished, he returned his attention to me, rubbing my arms, trying to get me to stop shaking. I was still sitting on the bike, and Jack took my arms and guided me off.

"Beth, are you okay?" he asked again.

"I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you guys coming because of the hill."

"It's alright, sir. I should have remembered this blind drive here."

"Is your arm okay?" I asked him.

"Yes, just a little scratch. I'll be fine." Jack walked me to the edge of the road and helped me to the ground. "Wait here." He returned to his bike and pushed it off the road, then returned to my side. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes. I can breathe now," I tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Jack looked at the man that was still watching us. "We're okay here. You can go ahead and go."

"Are you sure? Do we need to call the cops or anything?"

"I am one. And no, you're fine to leave."

"You're a cop?"

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Jack Thornton of the Iowa City Police. Trust me, you're fine to leave."

"O..okay. If you're sure."

"Yes, we'll be just fine. She's just shaken up."

The man returned to his truck and slowly drove away as Jack sat on the dirt beside me. He put an arm around me and rubbed my leg with his free hand. I had my knees pulled up to my chest, hugging them against me.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need a minute to try to get my heart under control."

"I'm so sorry." His voice was gentle and calming, and my body relaxed into his embrace. "Do you want me to call Rosie to come to pick you up, and I'll follow you home on the bike?"

"What? No. I want to ride with you."

"After that, you still want to get back on it?"

"Yes. This wasn't your fault, and I trust you. I don't want to give up something we love to do together. I just need a moment."

"Okay. Take as long as you need."

I'm pretty sure we sat there for another fifteen minutes before I could feel my legs well enough to stand. Jack helped me to my feet, then wrapped his arms around me.

"I was so scared," he whispered in my ear.

"Me, too," I whispered back.

Both of us knew all too well how easily it could have gone south, and one of us could have been severely injured...or worse. We held each other for a while before getting back on the bike. Before he started it, Jack gripped my calf and sat for a moment, holding my leg. Finally starting it, he eased it back onto the highway, and once at cruising speed, his hand was on my calf. But he held on tighter and never let go.

As we moved down the highway, the accident continuously flashed through my mind. I don't know much about controlling motorcycles, but I know that Jack held his Harley at just the right angle and kept it from falling over. If he leaned too far to the right, we would have road rash up the entire sides of our bodies, and the bike would have slid under the truck. Too far to the left, the direction we were sliding, the Harley would have flipped on top of us – I hate to think what would have happened then. But Jack held it until we reached the truck, then used his arm to stop us. I didn't need to ask him, but I knew he had done everything in his power to protect me.

I remained pressed against Jack's back all the way home, my arms tightly encircling his waist. My eyes were closed most of the time, as I tried to focus on the feeling of Jack's warmth against me. My arms still had a slight quiver in them, and I tried to make it stop, to no avail. As he pulled into the drive, I opened my eyes and thanked God for allowing me to see our home again.

Jack pulled the bike into the garage, turned it off, and pushed it onto the kickstand. He stood and got off, then took my hands and helped me. We weren't talking, but we both knew the other was running worse scenarios through our minds. Jack drew me in again, and his arms practically swallowed me up. Oh, how I love his arms.

For some reason, being in the safety of our home and his arms allowed the dam to break, and I started bawling. Remember – crier here. It's embarrassing! But I cried...and cried...and cried. I could have lost Jack. He could have lost me. Max could have grown up without both of his parents. So many what-ifs that should never be allowed to enter my head. But they did just the same.

Jack took my hand, led me into the house, and we sat on the couch in each other's arms until I cried all the crazy thoughts out of my mind. And Jack? He remained quiet and held me. He always knew just what to do.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wiping my cheeks dry and pushing my hair back from my face.

"I will be. I just got a bit overwhelmed. Sorry."

"Don't. Please, don't apologize for having feelings or thoughts or whatever. And I completely understand if you never want to get back on the bike again."

"No. Don't do that," I said and laid my hand on his chest. "I love riding with you, and I don't want to stop. Maybe not on that road again, though."

"Deal," Jack said with a smile. That smile. Geez, it was amazing.

I moved onto Jack's lap and pulled his arm onto my legs. I unwrapped the blood-soaked sleeve and carefully peeled it back.

"Jack, you need stitches."

He rotated his arm to get a better look. "Oh, I think you're right. I didn't know it was that bad."

"You'll probably need a tetanus shot, too. It could have been rusty. Have you had one in the past ten years?"

"Yes, we have to stay current on everything for work."

"Good. But we need to get you to the hospital."

I rewrapped his arm, grabbed the keys to my car, and drove him to the emergency room. An hour later, they were stitching his arm closed. The cut went across the clock in Jack's tattoo, and he had requested they take special care to get it back correctly. A plastic surgeon, who knew Jack, was working that day and did the work himself. He assured us that once healed, it would be barely noticeable.

As we returned home, Jack quietly stared out the window. I left him alone with his thoughts until we pulled into the garage.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jack turned his gaze to me, and I saw he'd been crying a bit. "We need to get a wedding date set."

"Okay?"

"I mean it. I could have lost you today, and I want you as my wife. I would marry you tomorrow, but I won't. You're getting your wedding. Can we please set a date and start planning?"

"Of course."

Though it looked forced, Jack grinned and got out of the car. I followed him into the house and to the sunroom, where he took a seat in his favorite chair. He was looking at something on his phone, then up at me. "How about September?"

"That would be nice. It's just starting to cool off. Yes, I really like September. What day?"

"The sixteenth. One month before your birthday."

"September 16th. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. Okay, we know when, now where?" I asked him.

"Church or outside?"

"Outside."

"Garden? Old barn? Vineyard?"

"Have you heard of Bella Sala Event Center?"

"Yes. A buddy of mine got married there a couple of years ago. It's gorgeous. Is that what you want?"

All I had to do was nod and smile, and Jack was on the phone to reserve it. I was worried it wouldn't be available, but to our surprise, it was. Jack read his credit card number over the phone, securing our date, and ended the call with a broad smile on his face.

"Happy?" I asked him regarding his little boy grin.

"More than you know."

Jack was flipping through the calendar, writing different events and adding our wedding on September, when I saw him stop. He was thinking hard about something, then his eyes lifted to me.

"Hey, we've been together for over a year. The two times combined that is."

"Really?" I stopped and did the math myself, and he was right. "It doesn't seem that long."

It didn't. It seemed like yesterday when I was ignoring him on the park bench. What an idiot I was! A great deal had happened in those twelve months – separated by three years. I had done so much growing when I was alone, and Jack and I had done a lot of living together. My mind began to wander to special moments with Jack: our first night together, his kitchen island, the truck stop shower, the handcuffs. I must have been grinning and my cheeks darkening, because when I finally moved my gaze to Jack, he was staring at me with a smirk.

"What are you thinking about over there?"

"Good times."

Jack nodded, knowing exactly where my mind had gone. He always knows. "There's been a lot of those."

"Yep."

"Want to add some more?" And his dimples came out to play!

"Oh, yes." Hell, yes, I wanted to add more. A lifetime of being in the arms of a man like Jack was what most dreamt of – but I was living it.

...

Jack and I stood on the front porch that afternoon as the school bus pulled into the drive. He had put on a long-sleeved shirt to hide his bandage so Alex wouldn't worry, as she had with his other injuries in the past. After the bus stopped and the door popped open, Max and Alex jumped off the bottom step and ran up the hill to the house as hard as they could.

"Mom, look what I did today!" Max shouted as he waved a paper above his head.

"What is it?"

"I made a graph, and Mrs. Robertson said it was perfect, and I got 100%." Max loved school, and his excitement proved just how much.

"This is wonderful, Max. I'm so proud of you." I wrapped him in a hug, then looked up to find Alex with her eyes on her feet. Jack noticed as well and sat on the top step.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I didn't get a perfect score like Max. I didn't understand how to do it."

"Can I see your paper?" Jack asked her.

Jack was in his element when dealing with his daughter. His love for her was palpable, and he had a way of speaking to her that many fathers don't. Alex pulled the paper from her backpack, and it was covered in red marks. Jack took the sheet and looked over it very carefully.

"Well, sweetie, right here is where it went wrong. These two numbers are switched. See?"

Alex moved in between Jack's legs, leaned her back against him, and stared at the paper he held up.

"Which ones?"

"Right here." Jack pointed out the mistake, and you could almost see a lightbulb switch on over the little girl's head. "Do you see it?"

"Yes. That was supposed to be a 45, but I wrote 54." She giggled at her mistake, and you could see relief in her eyes as the problem seemed to come into perfect view for her. "I was trying to hurry because class was almost over."

"You need to learn to slow down, honey. Once you fix that, start over right here," he pointed at the page, "and redo the math. Then it will work out."

Alexandria turned around and wrapped her arms around Jack's neck. "Thank you, Dad. You're so smart."

Jack looked up at me, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows, and pointed at his daughter. "Did you hear that, Beth? I'm smart."

"Well, I knew that. You picked me." I love teasing him, but then, he makes it so easy.

...

The scare on the bike had changed Jack and me. Although we were already a fairly intense couple, it seemed to amp things up even more. More time was spent in each other's arms, texting and calling one another, and holding our children. And in bed, all I can say is, "wow." Our lovemaking, in my description, had always been fierce. But after that day, it was as if we would meld into each other, unable to quench a thirst that had taken hold of us. The fire within had been stoked into an inferno that could not be tamed.

I couldn't wait to get home and fall into his arms and would be waiting for him when he arrived after a late shift. Some nights he would be removing his clothes before he even made it to our bedroom, knowing I would be waiting for him there. Our wedding plans were taking form, the children were thriving, and our hunger for one another could not be matched.

The next few weekends after the accident had been spent in the Jeep, exploring back roads and places only a 4x4 could reach. It had been exciting and fun, but it didn't match the exhilaration I would get from the back of his bike.

A month after the accident and the weekend before our girls' trip, I asked Jack if we could get the Harley out. I knew the experience had really gotten to Jack. It would have been one thing if it was only him, but the fact that I was involved bothered him.

"I don't know, Beth. I think it's supposed to rain."

"Jack Thornton. I watch the weather every morning, and that's not true." I shouldn't have been mad, but Jack aggravated me that day. "Wasn't it you who told me that you could just as easily be killed in a car accident as on the job?"

Knowing I had him backed into a corner, Jack's expression exposed him as defeated. "Yes."

"Then isn't it just as dangerous to go out in a car than on the bike?"

"Yes, Beth."

"So, can we please get the Harley out today?" I cannot stand it when fear controls me. I allowed it to do so too often throughout my life, and I wasn't about to let it rob me of living any longer.

Jack crossed the room to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and stared down into my eyes. "If you really want to go for a ride, then yes, we will go."

"I really do."

"Okay. Get ready, and we'll go," he said, releasing me and smacking my ass.

"So demanding, officer."

Jack stepped back in front of me, pulled me against him, and held me there, staring into my eyes.

"What?"

His eyes searched my face, something he did more of now. As his hands moved into my hair, and he laced his fingers through it and locked them in, Jack pulled me in and kissed me with his amazingly soft lips. God, I loved his lips. Our tongues did their natural dance while his hands did everything they could to bring us closer together.

Needing to breathe, I pulled back and looked at him. "Is this your way of attempting to get us to stay home?" I teased him.

"No. It's my way of showing you how much I love you."

I took a deep breath and moved my hands into his. "I know you do, Jack. And I love you, too. But I want to live life with you."

Jack knew exactly what I meant and stepped back. "Okay. Let's go."

I ran to the closet and retrieved my leather jacket, returned to Jack, who was waiting at the bedroom door, and, hand in hand, we walked to the garage.

I could tell the difference in his riding as he drove along the highway. He wasn't doing the fun swaying back and forth that I loved, and he was going much slower. But I didn't want to push him, so I kept quiet and enjoyed our time together. He stayed away from that highway and seemed only to take us down more open roads. Again, I didn't care. I just loved being on the back of that bike with him once again.

An hour into our ride, I leaned forward and moved my arms around him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Now, can you punch it?" I asked as I tightened my arms in preparation.

I could hear Jack let out a breath, then after thinking about it for a moment, Jack twisted the throttle, sending my heart rate into overdrive. The feeling this gave me every...single...time was indescribable. The pressure of the wind against us, my body against Jack's, and pure adrenaline pumping through my veins. I knew Jack loved this, too, because he would do it every time we took the bike out. I couldn't see his face, but I imagined he was smiling as I was.

We went another thirty minutes before returning home, and a few miles from our drive, Jack gently swayed the bike back and forth. I'm sure the smile on my face looked absolutely ridiculous, but I didn't care. I had my man back, and we were enjoying something we loved.