Free A Ride to Remember (Biker Erotic Romance) by Emily Stone

 
    A Ride to Remember
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
    Cecilia hated computers. It was a stupid thing to hate, something so important in modern times that you couldn't go across the street without seeing at least six iPhones or tablets in the grips of a mindless teenager.
     
    Granted, her loathing of computers and technology in general was a different sort of hatred. She worked at a travel agency (a dying breed, that) whose hours were cut back again after the latest buyout by a fancy, nameless corporation intent on using websites to sell rather than people. So her anger was more directed at the lack of money in her wallet. She sighed, tugging at the lank red strands dusted across her face.
     
    There were only three agents left on the job, and the owner of course.
     
    No one wanted to have to leave their homes to set up a vacation. At least it was almost lunch, and she could take a break.
     
    This wasn't her career by any means but it was paying the bills until Arroyo Hospice took up her application and set up an interview.
     
    She'd taken night classes and community college classes to become a nurse practitioner. Only problem? No one was hiring. The economy was in decline, her less than sparkling patchwork degree was worthless, take your pick for the reasoning.
     
    Cecilia was halfway to her own personal pity party when the bell above the door dinged and a looming figure darkened the pale light splaying through the opening.
     
    She looked up automatically, words out of her mouth before she took in the customer.
     
    “Welcome to Artie's Traveli--” The words caught in her throat, constricting. Emitting a surprised gasp, she dropped her hands to her sides and stared. The door clicked shut and the sound of a neck cracking filled the dingy room, the only conflicting sound a faint whir of her tiny fan.
     
    Who waltzes in but the brawny, devious punk that ditched out on her ten years ago to“Find himself” in the deserts of Reno?
     
    Ray Owens. Ex boyfriend and old friend, all wrapped up in sun-kissed skin and dusty leather.
     
    Apparently he struck gold in Reno because damn, did he look fine strutting through the door, hips swaying, with all that lean muscle and toned arms. She'd almost forgotten how tall he was, having to duck under the lip of the entrance to avoid braining himself. The teenage girl in her heart melted at the sight, demanding to throw herself into his arms and never let go.
     
    She shook herself.
     
    I am Cecilia Boyd and I throw myself at no man , she thought roughly. Especially not the jackass who ditched me to ride bikes two states away.
     
    Even as she thought the words, her heart skipped with every step he closed between them.
     
    Still as handsome as ever. Even more so. Ray Owens really filled out over the past decade, trading scrawny arms for biceps as big as her head. Flames and tribal tattoos roped around the bulging flesh, and ink covered every inch from shoulder to wrist. His brown hair was combed maybe three days ago, loose waves sticking out at his nape and splayed across his cheeks.
     
    That ridiculous smile of his spread across his mouth and Ray crossed the distance between them and pulled her right out of her chair into a bear hug.
     
    “Cece,” He breathed, her feet dangling at least seven inches off the floor as he straightened and held her against his chest. For one paralyzing moment she lay motionless in his arms, shocked out of a reaction. But then grown-up Cecilia stomped in, kicked down the teenager swooning behind her lids, and her hand came up to smack Ray right across his scruffy mug.
     
    The action didn't hurt him so much as surprise him. Ray held her apart, peering at her frown with confusion.
     
    “Cece?” He said again, this time less certain. He held her by her waist, so she folded her arms over her chest and glared, ignoring the brush of heat across her cheeks.
     
    “Don't Cece me, you brute. Put me down before I break your nose.” She grumbled. It would've come