Free Hard Case (Hard as Nails #2) by Hope Conrad Page A

got him figured out, he throws me another curve ball. Slate Rawlings is full of surprises.
     
    * * *
     
    Slate
     
    I know I’m taking a risk leaving the house with Rose. What if King’s associates shoot at us again? But I refuse to hide inside out of fear. That’s not a life I can bear, not even for a week or a month, and after all her talk about never trusting a man again, I want to send Rose an undeniable message—a life worth living will always have risks, but you take them all the same.
    It’s the perfect day to communicate that message by taking Rose for her first ride on a motorcycle. It’s also a great chance to let her see a different side of me.
    When I slide the old Nailed MC vest over my shoulders, it feels like I’m right back in the good old days. I feel young and free again, and I’ve got my new old lady with me.
    I put on my helmet and slide over the seat, feeling the bike’s power underneath me. We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen a lot of miles. All of that energy still courses through her body even with the engine off.
    “Hop on,” I tell Rose.
    She climbs on behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. Her touch feels so good. Everything feels better on the bike.
    Or maybe it’s that my body is still feeling the effects of last night, when I got myself off while forcing myself to stay standing in her bedroom doorway. And while I’d kept that distance between us—not only while I made myself come, but also while I’d watched her do the same—I’d done it knowing she was thinking of me.
    The fact that my sweet, little kindergarten teacher—and that’s how I’m beginning to think of her, as mine —has a dirty side that the sex toys on her bedroom floor had only begun to hint at, has me obsessed. She’s all I can think of. All I can focus on. And given our situation, that’s a dangerous thing. When I’d told her I needed to ride in order to clear my head, I hadn’t been exaggerating.
    “Hold on,” I say before the bike roars to life underneath us. Feeling the rumbling, roaring engine beneath me, I walk her out of the garage and into the driveway. “You ready?” I yell, checking with Rose one last time before leaving the house.
    She gives me a thumbs up, and we’re off. The road is ours at this point. I tell myself everything is going to work out fine and I believe it a little more now that she’s on the back of the motorcycle, riding away from her situation for a little while.
    I’ve got a girl on the bike with me, and she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous, and she’s got an irresistible mix of innocence and experience, naivety and intelligence, that drives me wild.
    On the Harley, I’m not her lawyer. I’m not representing her in court in a few short weeks.
    No, on the Harley, I’m just another biker, a rebel. I’m the guy determined to get into her pants again despite the fact I know I should leave her alone. I’m the guy who’s starting to wonder exactly who I’d been trying to convince when I’d told her I didn’t want a relationship with her. Because as I’d lain in my cold bed last night, all I’d wanted was to go back to her and take her in my arms, not to fuck, but to hold. To comfort and be comforted by her, without all the damn lies and artificial rules and boundaries I’ve constructed.
    Maybe that’s why I felt the pull to ride so much today, as well. Because I need to clear my head in another way, by reminding myself exactly why Rose and I can’t be together. Not so much because of our current circumstances, but because of my past.
    This bike connects me to a darker time in my life, a time when I wasn’t always on the right side of the law. Hell, I’m not completely on the right side of the law now. I’m working for King, and there’s not much about that situation that is legitimate.
    Before I realize it, we’re out of town and riding through the countryside. Rose’s arms are squeezing me as she