Un-Valentine's Day

Scene 3: Looks Can Be Deceiving

After slurping down the last of her coffee, Cassie glanced at her watch again. Almost ten. She grabbed her purse and keys, then ground to a halt in front of the hallway mirror. Jeez. Noah had said to wear clothes she didn’t mind getting dirty, but had he really meant old jeans and a plaid shirt? She looked like her father on one of his male-bonding trips with the guys. Was Noah taking her fishing? Ugh, she hoped not. The thought of impaling a wiggling worm on a hook had her ready to toss up her Starbucks and toast.

Well, she’d wanted unromantic, right? If she hated Noah’s plans, it’d be her fault. She locked the apartment door and took the elevator to the lobby. As she exited the building, a bad boy idling on a beauty of a motorcycle grabbed her attention. Well-worn jeans encased his powerful thighs, and a black leather jacket and boots completed the ass-kicker look.

She stopped at the top of the steps leading to the parking lot and studied the work of art before her. Strong hands gripped the sides of his helmet and slowly pulled it off. The anticipation was killing her. Squeezing her thighs together, she willed him to go faster, willed his face to be as attractive as the rest of him.

Dark brown curls popped out first, then a shadowed jaw, a straight nose, and… Oh. My. God. Her knees buckled and she plopped down on the steps.

Noah’s smile collapsed. “Cassie!”

Seeing him hurry to turn the bike off and kick out the stand, she held up a hand to stop him. “I’m okay. Just slipped on something.”

“You sure?”

She nodded and pushed to her feet. How was this possible? Until he’d removed the helmet, she hadn’t recognized Noah at all. Had he always been so hot? Surely, he hadn’t undergone some miraculous transformation overnight. She continued to check him out as she carefully made her way down the stairs. The glasses were gone, which helped a lot. He did have the most spectacular lashes, and now that she could see his eyes, they weren’t just dark brown; they were a rich mocha, warming her like hot chocolate on a cold day.

Had she hit her head when she’d fallen? Because something was seriously off here.

Noah held his hand out as she approached. He gently pulled her to the side of the bike and leaned forward. Was he going to kiss her? Maybe she needed to remind him of their agreement.

But Noah didn’t kiss her. Instead, he slid a helmet over her head, then bopped the top of it. “There. Now hop on. I’ve got a full day planned.” When she hesitated, he cocked a brow. “Scared?”

She was scared all right, but not of the bike. In fact, she’d wanted to buy a motorcycle last year, but Drew had convinced her it wasn’t the right look for a marketing executive. Why had she listened to him, anyway?

On the other hand, she was worried about having to hold onto Noah during this adventure, given her body’s new-found attraction to the man. He’s the same Noah he’s always been. She swallowed her nerves and threw her leg over the seat, sliding behind Noah. Her hands snaked around his waist, her touch feather-light. He jerked her against his back and patted her hands. “Like that.”

Oh boy, did she like that. Her hands pressed against marble-hard abs that he’d kept well concealed beneath those loose gamer T-shirts he always wore to work. When had Noah started working out?

Before her thoughts could wander too far, he let the bike roll forward and revved the engine. “Where’re we going?” she shouted above the noise of the motor.

“You’ll see,” he said, turning onto the main road.

Fishing might not be so bad after all. Especially if he got hot and removed his shirt.