Win a Date with a Biker (The Curvy Girls’ Bachelor Auction #22)

Chapter 1

ONE

MINDY

“Which one makes my butt look better? The hot pink or the leopard print?”

Kathryn’s perfectly sculpted auburn eyebrow shoots up. “You want me to check out your ass?”

“Oh come on.” I roll my eyes and toss a jacket at her. “You said you’d come over to help me pick out an outfit for my date.”

“Yeah, to live vicariously through you,” she grumbles. “At least you’re going on a date with your bachelor. Mine has already re-scheduled.”

Last Saturday night, she dragged me to a charity bachelor auction at a popular resort and casino on the Las Vegas strip. Not that I’m opposed to hanging out on the strip or supporting a good cause.

It’s just… I’d only been in town all of three hours at that point.

But not even my explaining that I’d been up driving half the night, because I was too anxious about meeting the moving crew delivering the pod containing all my earthly belongings to sleep on a crappy motel bed, was enough of a reason for her to give me the night off.

No, as my self-appointed welcoming committee and guide to Sin City, Kathryn declared that it was important—nay, necessary—to go out and explore the nightlife in my new city my first weekend.

As a result, it had only taken one glass of champagne—and a bit of her encouragement—for me to join her in bidding on—and winning—a date with one of the evening’s bachelors.

“Maybe this week was just busy?”

Her eye twitches. “Twice.”

I pull a face. Because, she’s right. It isn’t promising. Especially when he cancelled the first time, he used some BS line about it being a ‘matter of national security with potential global ramifications.’

That’s a direct quote. I saw the text he sent her half an hour after he was supposed to meet her for their date.

“Maybe it’s all part of the date experience,” I offer helpfully.

Her brow furrows. “How do you mean?”

“Well… maybe it’s to add drama and mystique to the noting of winning a date with a ‘Navy Seal.’” I lift a shoulder and dig through another box to find another sports bra option. “You know, ‘national security,’ ‘band of brothers,’ ‘serving my country.’ All of that. It’s part of the fantasy.”

“Maybe.” She nods thoughtfully. “Which is why your date—”

“Told me to join him for a ride on his bike and to dress for it.” I sigh and gesture at the athletic and leisurewear strewn around my bedroom. “I’ll admit, when I won a date with a biker, I didn’t think that meant I’d be going for a workout.”

“Yeah, I was kind of surprised you went for him.” Kathryn sorts through one pile of the clothes and lifts up a black sports bra that could almost be considered sexy in the right circumstances. “You’ve never really struck me as a cycling girl.”

“Oh, I’m not.” I give a short laugh. “I mean, I’ve seen short updates on the Tour de France in my feed or on TV. And I remember when virtual cycling classes captured the imaginations of the world.”

“And so you thought you’d go for a man who teaches a class or has raced for what? To try something different? To get close to a celebrity of some sort.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even listen to his resume to know. I just thought he was really hot.”

Kathryn laughs. “There are worse reasons to date a man.”

“Plus, all the proceeds go to a good cause.”

“You’re right. We’re true humanitarians.”

We share a grin with each other, and I sober. “What happens if I can’t keep up with him on the bike trail or in the class, or wherever he’s planning on taking us?”

“You’ll be fine. Just do your best and drink your water.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “And if you feel like you’re going to pass out stop. Then give me a call, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll grab a cocktail to drink our sorrows away.”

That’s one of the best things about Kathryn. She really is a good friend who knows exactly what I need.

TI go with the hot pink compression pants. Not because I think they make my butt look good. To be honest, the jury is still out on that. But, since we’re going on a bicycle ride to God knows where in the evening, I figure these will make me stand out to drivers and help me avoid potential hazards.

My elementary school teachers would be so glad I took their bicycle safety training seriously.

I leave my car in a small lot near a trail to a picturesque park.

This is one of the things I love about Las Vegas.

It’s part of why I decided to move here when I needed a fresh start.

It’s actually really pretty. And there’s so much to do.

Beyond the tourist traps on the strip, but there is so much to live and experience.

I look forward to living and experiencing everything Vegas has to offer.

I just need to not let my fear of failure get in the way.

With a few minutes to go until the appointed rendezvous time, I find a nearby bench and settled down.

I don’t know much about my date beyond the fact that he has dark brown hair and a full beard.

From the little glance, I had of him at the auction, dressed in a suit and tie, I could also tell he had broad shoulders and a full chest. He’s fit.

Brawny. Maybe not quite as lean as I would expect from a cycling instructor or competitive cyclist.

Then again, who am I a judge? Bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and they are all capable of doing amazing things.

Like, right now, my heart is racing a mile a minute. Who knew it could do that when my body is at rest?

“Calm down, Mindy,” I hiss at myself. “So it’s your first date since… it… happened. Big deal. Just pull the Band-aid off and have fun.”

It’s not like I’m going to end up marrying this guy and having babies with him.

In an effort to distract myself, I study a nearby shrubbery, wondering to myself if it’s a shrub or in the cacti family—whatever it is, I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore—when the roar of an engine nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

Heart galloping, I turn to the parking lot as a man clad in leather from head to toe zoom’s past on a motorcycle and comes to a halt.

“Sheesh. Why do motorcycles have to be so freaking noisy? That almost gave me a heart attack.“ I shake my head. “He’s probably trying to compensate for something.”

Taking a few deep breaths, I’m about to return my study of the local flora and fauna when I see the motorcycle list approached me. He on straps his helmet and gives his head a shake. His thick, dark hair sways, and his swagger has my heart thundering again.

Piercing blue eyes. A strong jaw underneath his whiskers. And the leather jacket clings to his broad shoulders, as if it’s another skin. He’s… Hot. Really, really hot.

Not that I’m gawking at a man when I’m about to go on a date with another one. I’m not that kind of girl. But I don’t suppose there’s any harm in looking.

Especially after he nearly scared me to death.

He comes to a stop in front of me. My breath catches.

“Waiting for someone?”

The man beside me smiles, easy and unbothered, like he hasn’t just short-circuited my nervous system with three casual words.

He’s… big. Not bulky exactly, but solid. Broad shoulders stretching the seams of his black leather jacket. Dark jeans. Heavy boots planted confidently on the pavement. His hair is dark, cut short at the sides, longer on top. His jaw is shadowed with stubble that looks intentional, not lazy.

He doesn’t look like he belongs with the cyclists.

Which is probably why my brain does a strange little stutter as I take him in.

“Sorry,” I say again, because apparently that’s my word of the evening. “I’m just a little jumpy tonight.”

“No worries.” He leans back, resting his forearms on his thighs. The leather creaks softly with the movement. “First dates are nerve-wracking enough without worrying about being late.”

I blink. “First dates?”

He tilts his head, studying me in a way that feels curious rather than intrusive. “Let me guess. First one in a while?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He grins. “Only if you count the way you’re looking around like everything might bite you.”

I laugh before I can stop myself. “Fair enough.”

“I promise I won’t,” he says. Then he offers his hand. “I’m Jesse.”

I hesitate for half a second, acutely aware of my fingerless gloves, then take it. His palm is warm. Rough in a way that sends an unexpected spark up my arm.

“Mindy.”

“Nice to meet you, Mindy.” He releases my hand slowly, like he’s not in any rush to let go. “So. First date in a while?”

“Yes.” I nod. “Believe it or not, I won him at a bachelor auction.”

His eyebrows lift. “Right.”

“It was for charity,” I rush to add, immediately regretting how defensive that sounds. “And I was very tired. And there was champagne.”

“Ah.” His smile deepens. “The trifecta of impulsive decisions.”

“Exactly.” I exhale, relieved he isn’t judging me. “What about you? Were you also under the influence of tiredness and champagne when you set up your date?”

“Sort of.” He scratches at his jaw. “My sister claimed she thought it would be good for me.”

“That sounds… nice.”

He snorts. “It’s more like she was desperate and I was there.”

We share a look. A moment of instant camaraderie over meddling loved ones and questionable choices.

“So,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the path. “Are you riding tonight?”

He follows my gaze. Then looks back at me. Something unreadable flickers across his expression.

“Not exactly.”

“Oh.” I glance down at my bike shoes. “I mean, I’m not very fast. Or coordinated. Or good with hills.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I hope so.” I tug at the hem of my jacket. “I’m new in town. I just moved here last week.”

“Did you?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m doing event planning for one of the casinos. My friend got me the job.”

“Nice friend.”

“She is.” I smile. “She’s also the reason I went to the auction in the first place.”

“That tracks.”

I laugh again, then hesitate. “What about you? Have you lived here long?”

“Long enough.” His gaze lingers on me, thoughtful. “Long enough to know this city’s good at pretending to be something it’s not.”

I feel that in my chest. “Yeah. That’s kind of what I’m hoping to avoid.”

“Well.” He straightens, rolling his shoulders. “Looks like we’re both in luck tonight.”

Before I can ask what he means, a low, unmistakable rumble cuts through the air.

It’s deep. Vibrating. Alive.

I turn toward the sound just in time to see a motorcycle pull into the lot. Sleek. Black. Chrome catching the light. The rider cuts the engine, and the sudden silence rings in my ears.

My stomach drops.

Jesse stands.

He reaches for a helmet resting on the seat.

“Oh,” I say faintly.

He turns back to me, something like amusement dancing in his eyes now. “You ready?”

I stare at the motorcycle. At the helmet. At him. My brain scrambles to reconcile the scene with everything I thought I understood.

“You’re… a biker.”

“Motorcyclist,” he corrects gently. “But yeah.”

All of the pieces suddenly fall into place. Biker. Motorcyclist. I take a closer look at him, squinting to give myself champagne goggles.

“You’re may date,” I say under my breath. “I thought I was meeting up with a—”

“Cyclist?”

“Clearly.” I gesture helplessly at my outfit. “I’m not dressed to ride on… that.”

His lips twitch. “You look great.”

“That is not the point.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Mindy… you said you won your date at a bachelor auction, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that your date told you to dress for the ride.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then…” He lifts the helmet slightly. “Looks like we’re each other’s date.”

My heart slams against my ribs.

“Oh.”

I look from the motorcycle to Jesse.

Holy crap. I am absolutely, completely in over my head.

But what can I do? I did win a date with the guy.