running through his mind. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to see it. She was scared enough as it was. “Does it fit?”
Angel put her weight on it, testing. She nodded.
Cole bent, and slid the other one on, then stood up, and turned to Bozeman. “How much?”
“Hundred.”
Cole pulled the money he’d gotten from Chuck out of his hip pocket, and peeled off a hundred dollar bill, tossing it on the table. “Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, sure. Take care of yourself, Cole,” Bozeman replied.
Cole nodded, and led Angel across the grounds toward the long drive that stretched down to the road. They walked along the line of bikes parked there. Stopping in front of one of them, he turned, and looked back at her, his eyes dropping down to her cuffed hands.
As she watched, his hand moved to his side, and in the darkness she saw a flash of silver as he pulled a knife from the sheath at his hip. Angel took a step back, her eyes on the knife. It had a large, wicked looking blade. She thought it might be a Bowie knife, but she wasn’t sure. Her mouth went dry as she wondered what he was going to do with it.
She watched as he lifted his flannel shirt out of the way, and sliced about a two inch wide piece all the way across the front of his white undershirt hem. Then he cut the piece of fabric in two sections, and put the knife back in its sheath.
He looked up at her. “Come here.”
She hesitated a moment, and then took a timid step toward him.
He reached for her cuffed hands, and slid a piece of the soft, cotton tee shirt under the metal on each of her wrists.
She looked up at him as he worked at it, noticing the way the light from the bonfire highlighted the blonde of his hair. She also noticed how gentle his hands were as he touched her.
He looked up into her eyes. “That better?”
She was again struck by how blue his eyes were, and how long his lashes were. He’d asked her a question, was waiting for her answer. She nodded.
He turned, and reached for his helmet, taking it off the handlebar where it dangled by a strap from the handgrip. Stepping back over to her, he put it on her head, buckling the strap under her chin. Then he threw his leg over the his bike, and patted the seat behind him. “Come on, darlin’.”
She stepped over to the bike, slid her leg over the seat, and sat.
He glanced back at her, and realized that she wasn’t going to be able to put her arms around him with the cuffs on. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked naively, wondering if she’d done something wrong.
“I’ve got no back rest.”
She stared at him blankly, not understanding.
“You’re going to fall off, if you can’t hold on.”
“Oh.”
He thought a moment, then said, “Put your hands over my head.”
She lifted her arms as high as she could, and he ducked down a bit until she got them over his head. Then he pulled her arms forward, and slipped one arm and shoulder through the circle of her arms, and then the other. He slid her arms down around his waist. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Put your hands up under my shirt. It’ll keep ‘em warm.”
She did as he said, and he felt the cold bite of the metal against his stomach. “Shit, that’s cold.”
A small smile formed on her lips.
He didn’t miss it. He returned it. “Okay, darlin’. You ready?”
She nodded.
He started the bike, slid a pair of riding glasses and gloves on, and pulled out.
They headed down the mountain.
It was a three hour ride back, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. What had been a warm day was turning into a chilly night. He felt her tuck in behind him, trying to stay out of the wind.
They rode for about an hour on the deserted, two lane highway. Cole took them down out of the mountains, and started across the flat desert lands before he finally pulled over, and stopped on the side of the road.
He could feel her trembling.
He twisted slightly to look back at her over his left shoulder, and frowned when he saw her teeth chattering as she shook with cold. “You okay?” As she tried to nod, he pulled the glove off his left hand, and reaching back, he ran his hand over her bare thigh.