4-Rock Chick Renegade by Kristen Ashley

Author:Kristen Ashley [Ashley, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

You Wanna Talk Now?

We took Sixth Avenue west to I-70, Vance driving fast. Me pressed against him from crotch to shoulders (dress stretched to the max); arms tight around his waist; backpack on my back; Harley roaring between my legs; my hair flying behind me; my legs freezing in the cold. I alternately pressed my cheek into his shoulder or gazed over it, not quite sad, scared or cold enough not to enjoy the ride.

We went into the foothills, passed the end of the city lights, strip malls and suburbs where the skies became a bit clearer and you could see the stars a whole lot better.

He exited I-70 and I memorized our route just because, letting myself pretend that I might take it again one day. It was major thoroughfare left to minor thoroughfare. Minor thoroughfare right to a one lane road. One lane road left to a dirt road. I was guessing we were somewhere between Golden and Evergreen. What I did know was that we were in the middle of nowhere.

Finally he pulled off into a gravel lane and his headlight flashed on a small, one-story log cabin surrounded by pine trees except for a clearing to the north where there was a major outbuilding.

In the drive there was an oldish Ford pickup truck, not ancient but it had at least ten years on it. It was blue, it was dusty and you could tell it was well-used. Next to that was a horse trailer.

Vance stopped the bike, cut the light, I got off and pulled down my skirt. So did he (without the skirt part). We did the whole backpack whirl thing again and then he grabbed my hand and walked me to the house. All this was done in silence.

I was finding it hard to deal with silence. “Do you have horses?” I asked.

“One. Stable two for my neighbors in exchange for them feeding, watering and exercising mine when I’m in town which is most of the time,” he replied in a way that didn’t invite further questions.

He walked right up to the house hand wrapped around mine and opened the unlocked door.

“You don’t lock your house?” I asked, shocked. Vance, security expert, didn’t lock his own house. He was in the middle of nowhere but still.

“Got nothin’ to steal,” he said.

We walked in and he flipped on a light and with one look around I realized he was right. He indeed had nothing to steal.

He dropped my hand, closed the door and walked through the house, leaving me at the door and disappearing down a dark hall. Then a light came on from there.

I looked around more, came forward and took my blazer off, wrapping it around the back of a chair.

It could be cute, his cabin, definitely cozy. The walls were made of well-sealed logs. The floors were wood with some rugs thrown over them, mostly multi-colored and braided, not tatty but not designer-cabin-chic either. The front room was one biggish room incorporating the dining room, living room and kitchen.

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