members onto the box of scones on the table. Right now, I had to focus on the upcoming church meeting, and being the vice president, this club needed to me.
Raven appeared at my side and pushed a scone into my hands. “Everything okay?” he asked, chin ducked with concern.
I took the scone with a smile of thanks and nodded. “Everything’s great.”
The last thing I wanted was for Raven to worry. And it wasn’t a lie. Ankh would be proud of the club—proud of us all.
Whatever I felt for Mal, I’d figure it out, the same way I’d gotten through these past few years: one day at a time.
3
Mal
I gunned my engine, relishing the rush of the wind in my ears and the rumble of the bike beneath me. It was only twenty minutes from Junee to Elkin Lake, but what a glorious twenty minutes it was—the winding highway, the chilly air, the distinct lack of speed-checking police.
It’d rained the night previous, which meant the road was a little slick with water, requiring a bit more attention than usual. I loved that about riding, how I had to adjust how I handled my bike to match the conditions of the road. It made me feel connected to my bike, and to the asphalt beneath me. Getting into that Zen flow state of riding was something I cherished.
I was so focused on the road ahead, though, that I didn’t notice the shallow puddle right in front of me until it was too close to swerve. It wasn’t dangerous, but—ugh! I grimaced as my bike cut through the water and kicked up mud all over my riding leathers and the usually spotless body of my bike.
But that was fine. It hadn’t been a huge puddle—it’d be fairly easy to clean off after church, and I wasn’t too wet.
Then, as if on cue in a slapstick comedy, a trunk gunned its engine behind me and sped up to pass me. As it did, it ran through another shallow puddle, drenching me in a terrible arc of gross gray rainwater. I swore loudly but kept my bike steady as the truck barreled by and roared down the highway.
My good mood soured as I finished up the drive to the Elkin Lake clubhouse. When I arrived, I was thoroughly drenched and cold, the denim of my pants sticking heavily to my legs, my leather jacket coated in a thin layer of mud. I dismounted, pulled off my helmet, and cringed at the state of my bike.
“Oh, no,” I whined to myself. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” I pulled a soft rag out of my saddlebag, stashed there specifically for this purpose, and began to hurriedly wipe down the body of the bike before the dirt dried and got too caked on. “You know I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
A low laugh caught my attention—and caused a familiar curl of heat to unspool in my gut.
I straightened up and watched as Priest ambled down the stairs, one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket and the other around a mug of coffee. He moved with an easy, leonine grace, and a warm smile curved on his lips as he approached me.
“The way you talk to that bike, I’d think you loved it more than your firstborn,” he said.
“More than Dante?” I said with a grin as I wiped my hands off on the towel. “Hmm, it’s close, but I think he pulls ahead.”
Priest laughed again, and there was that damn curl of heat again. It was so easy to talk to him, and be around him, but—this physical reaction to his presence was new. Maybe it was the dream; it’d heightened my reactions and put me on edge. Luckily, it wasn’t enough to make me act any differently around him, even if I felt differently. Even if I wanted to step closer, hear that laugh again right in my ear, feel that beard scratch across my skin.
I blinked hard and shook away the remnants of the dream, just as quickly as they bubbled to the surface. I turned my attention back to the bike instead. “A man can’t take care of his bike? Might be second to Dante, but it’s definitely the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”
Priest snorted. “You’re soaked, too—not just the bike.”
“I know.” I grimaced, trying to ignore the extremely uncomfortable way my wet jeans were sticking to my legs. “Some dumbass in a truck passed me on the highway and of course went