Shoulda Been a Cowboy. Maisey Yates

not that I’ve never had the opportunity.” But she hadn’t. “I don’t ride on them because the idea is about as appealing as inhaling dandelion fluff and then licking a pig’s foot to get the taste out of your mouth.”

      “Evocative.”

      “I’m trying to get my point across that I don’t find the idea very appealing at all.”

      “Yeah, I actually got that out of your simile,” he said.

      “Wow, you even knew it was a simile.”

      “I had a good tutor back in high school.”

      * * *

      SOMETHING ABOUT BRINGING the past into the present made Jake’s chest tighten. He didn’t like to think about the past and he had good reason. But Copper Ridge made it impossible not to.

      “I tutored you in math, not English. I was not the one to teach you about similes.”

      “Maybe I just absorbed some of your intelligence.”

      “See, you think I’m intelligent. Therefore, my concerns about riding on a motorcycle are probably valid.”

      “Probably. But then, I’ve been riding on one for about seventeen years and I seem okay.”

      “Okay, I don’t have time to stand here quibbling with you about this.” She snatched the helmet from his grip and put it down over her head, so that only her nose and eyes were visible, a strand of dark hair hanging down the middle of her forehead and disappearing beneath the face mask.

      “That’s a good look for you, Cassie.”

      She blinked, and he was suddenly very aware of just how long her eyelashes were, and how very attractive that was to him. Seriously, the brush of her fingers against his and her eyelashes. He needed to get a grip. And not the type he’d gotten in the shower a couple of days earlier.

      “It doesn’t surprise me that badass biker chick is kind of my thing.”

      “Speaking of,” he shrugged off his leather jacket and held it out toward her, “You need to complete the look.”

      “What about you?”

      “We’ll be driving through town, so I’ll go slow. But I would still feel better if you wore the jacket.”

      She took the jacket and shrugged it on, the sleeves hanging over her hands and the bottom extending to mid-thigh. There was something sexy about that too. And he was just done questioning his sanity, because it was clear the question was answered. It was gone, and he needed some kind of sexual release.

      But not with her. Maybe he would drive up to Tolowa and look for someone to hook up with. One night stands weren’t really his thing these days, but exceptions could be made.

      At least with someone he would never see again.

      “Okay.” The word was jittery, and so was she, her fingers trembling. At least what he could see of them peeking out from the jacket sleeves. “Let’s do this, I’ve got an appointment.”

      “And you have all your paperwork?”

      “Yep.” She tapped the large purse that she had slung over her shoulder.

      “All right then.” He walked over to his motorcycle and put on his helmet then got on, waiting for her to do the same.

      “So I... Just get on behind you.”

      Oh, shit. He’d sort of overlooked this part. “Yes,” he said, conscious of the roughness in his own voice.

      She took a tentative step to the bike, then disappeared from his field of vision as she moved behind him. He felt a light touch on his shoulder, which was quickly taken away.

      “It’s fine, you’re going to have to hold on to me anyway.” Sexual tension was making him testy.

      Two hands gripped his shoulders, and he felt her settle in behind him. Her thighs rested on either side of his.

      “You need to put your arms around my waist.” Yeah, this was going to kill him.

      She complied, her grip so tight around him it was like she was attempting the Heimlich. “This feels slightly unstable,” she said, her voice in his ear, muffled by the helmets between them.

      “It’s not, I promise. As long as you’re not going to let go of me suddenly.”

      “Yeah, it’s safe to say I’m not going to be doing that.”

      He started the motor. “Good. Are you ready?”

      “No.”

      “We’re going anyway, okay?”

      He felt her nod against his back and he smiled, putting the bike in gear and moving forward, careful to take off gradually so that he wouldn’t terrify his virgin passenger.

      He gritted his teeth. All things considered that wasn’t a very good descriptor. It stuck his mind straight back in the gutter.

      He did his best to keep all of his focus on the road, on the passing scenery. Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t exactly gotten directions from her. But he figured he would keep going straight until she gestured wildly.

      In his defense, he had been distracted. By trying not to be distracted by his attraction to her.

      Maybe that was the real issue. Maybe his attraction to her was an attempt at distracting himself from other problems. From the ranch, and all of the ghosts that it held. It was strange seeing it now, fallen into such dilapidation. In order for the excuse to wash, he had to ignore the attraction he’d felt to her back in high school, but for the sake of his sanity he was willing to do that.

      The ranch had never been a mansion by any stretch but it hadn’t been run down like this. But his mother had been gone for more than twenty years, and Jake himself hadn’t been back in fifteen. From all accounts, his father had been in a home the last two years of his life and not living out on the property.

      Someone must’ve been taking care of the animals because they were still there, but no one had bothered to do any upkeep on the house. If he had ever had any affection for the place, the disrepair would have made him sad.

      They drove past the collection of tourist shops, which were one major change from when he lived here as a kid. This street had mainly been deserted, and there had been very little value in the properties. Which was, he assumed, how his father had managed to end up with a few of the buildings. And why he had never been able to do anything with them. The place had been a near ghost town back then.

      From what he’d gathered since coming back tourism had started to build in the past ten years, along with the restoration of Old Town. Brick that had once been crumbling and rundown was now charming and quaint. Buildings that had been peeling and splitting were now restored, painted bright whites, pale blues and deep reds. Fish shacks that had only ever been for locals were now obviously designed to bait out-of-towners with promises of the freshest seafood.

      One little building that he’d remembered as being empty was now covered in wind chimes, flags and things made of driftwood. It was amazing what paint, new signage, and some landscape could do.

      He took the main road up out of Old Town, away from the beach. As the road curved inland the pine trees thickened, casting dusky shadows over them, golden sun filtering through the trees and bathing everything in a glittering haze.

      Objectively, Jake had to admit the place was beautiful, which was a tough thing for him since it also created a knot of tension in his chest that refused to ease. He managed to find beauty in Seattle, though it had taken a few years of living there to get used to all of the glass and steel. As cities went, there was a lot of nature. And the ocean was still nearby. He didn’t think he could live anywhere that wasn’t by the ocean.

      It wasn’t that he spent a whole lot of time beachcombing. He wasn’t big on the sand between his toes. It was a feeling of freedom the ocean afforded.