18.
J ANIS
I looked over my shoulder to double-check for cars before I slid into the right lane and then, while we rode on the straightaway before the next curve, took the time to study Corey as he rode ahead of me.
He was comfortable on his motorcycle. From his hat being turned backward so it would stay on in the wind down to his well-worn boots, he was the epitome of the casual biker who was in it for the ride and not trying to put on airs. I appreciated that about him and always had. Corey didn’t belong to either of the MCs in town - although I knew that the Texas Knights and the Texas Kings would eagerly welcome him as a member. No, Corey was uniquely his own guy who just seemed to get along with everyone.
And that now included me.
Six months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine myself as Corey Forrester’s friend and definitely wouldn’t have considered dating the man. Now, even though it had only been a few weeks since we started talking, I felt like our friendship had changed me. I didn’t mean it had altered the core of what made me Janis Grissom, a loyal friend and loving family member who had a hard time keeping her opinion to herself. No, my friendship with Corey had opened my eyes to what could be if I gave someone a chance to show their true colors.
I happened to glance at my mirror and realized that the cars behind us had dwindled down to a single car which seemed to be following us at a reasonable distance, which didn’t make sense, considering we were out in the middle of nowhere without a destination in mind.
I tried to shake off the wary feeling that gave me and focus on the surrounding scenery in the waning light of the day, but I kept glancing at my mirror, only to find the car was still the same distance back.
My mom had taught me to be aware of my surroundings my entire life because, as a woman, we were vulnerable in ways that a man might not be. My father had taken that a step further and taught me self-defense. I’d learned from both of them to trust my instincts in every situation. The few times I hadn’t, something proved to me that I shouldn’t doubt myself, even if nothing came of my worry.
I gave my bike a little extra gas so I could pull up next to Corey and was happy to see him smile at me before I gave him the signal that I was going to take the lead and wanted him to follow me. He nodded, probably thinking I needed to find a restroom or something like that, but then I saw him look at his mirror and frown. I knew he’d noticed the car tailing us too.
Rather than speed up like I’d planned, Corey gave me the signal to back off the gas, most likely to see if the car stayed with us even below the speed limit. I did that, riding beside him to match his speed, and watched my speedometer dip to fifteen below the posted limit.
When the car stayed the same distance from us, I decided to call in reinforcements just to make sure we were safe. Balancing my bike, I let go of the handlebars for a few seconds and hit the red icon on my smartwatch that would send an alert to some select friends, letting them know my exact location because I felt like I might be in danger.
When Lark first suggested we each make a group for this specific scenario, I thought I’d probably never use it, but since then, it had come in handy several times, whether it was because of engine trouble or situations like this where my senses were on high alert and I thought I might need support.
I left my sleeve tucked under the edge of my watch so I could see the screen and put my hands back on the grips before I glanced over at Corey and then at the car behind us. When I felt my watch vibrate, I looked down to see two green dots appear on the map not far from my own red dot. I knew those were my friends nearby who were able to answer the call.
Corey waved and caught my attention, and from the signals he gave me, I thought I had an idea of what he had planned. He pulled ahead and put on his blinker to indicate that he was moving into the inside lane, and I followed him. We hadn’t gone far when the car behind us did the same thing. However, they were closer now, and that was worrisome, especially when Corey slowed down even more.
I wondered why he wanted them closer because it was just natural for a biker to like a respectable distance between themselves and the rest of the traffic. When I looked back over at Corey, he pointed ahead and then slashed his hand to the side as if to direct me off the highway. I nodded in understanding.
The car was so close now that their headlights were lighting up the pavement around my bike, and my heart raced as I wondered if they were about to run us off the road. I knew that the next exit was coming up soon, just on the other side of the next hill, and waited for Corey to make his move. As soon as we crested the hill, he motioned for me to shoot off. I followed his instruction without thinking, hitting the gas as I veered across the right lane and took the exit off the highway, praying he had enough time to follow me.
I saw that he had when he shot past me and veered over into the right lane. I knew he was about to turn onto one of the main roads leading to the heart of Rojo. He stopped his bike at the sign but kept his eye on the highway. We watched as the car that had been following us passed. Unfortunately, they were going too fast and were too far away for me to get the license plate number, but I committed the make, model, and color to memory before I looked over at Corey.
“Any clue what that was about?” I asked loudly, so he could hear me over our engines.
“No.” Corey winced before he said, “Maybe.” He still hadn’t looked at me, but I was shocked into action when he yelled, “Cut the bike off!”
I did as he ordered, leaving us in the growing darkness, and kept my eye on the car ahead. It suddenly sped down the exit ramp and slowed to turn as if it was going to follow us on the next road and then try to catch up to us at the next intersection.
“Let’s go!” Corey said before he pressed the button to restart his motorcycle. I did the same and kicked it into gear to follow him across the road and back onto the loop again. Now that we’d lost the tail, he wasn’t going nearly as slow as before. I glanced down to find that we were going ten over the limit as we sped down the highway.
We had just gone over the bridge on the edge of town when I saw a truck pull up even with us on the access road and start to keep pace. I recognized Zoey’s truck and assumed that Garvey was with her; I was shocked when I saw Zane’s tow truck pull up behind her. I checked my mirror and saw a motorcycle come over the hill behind us, and then two more appeared behind that one.
Corey started to slow, obviously having seen the motorcycles behind us, and waited for them to catch up before he exited the loop again and then turned down the street that would take us to my neighborhood. I pulled ahead so the security guard at the gate could see me, and by the time we got to the entrance, the gate was wide open for all of us to drive through.
Just past the park, I turned left onto my street and followed it down to my house, where I pulled into the driveway. By the time I shut off my engine, everyone else was parking. Right before I got off my bike, I saw Corey frowning as he held his phone up to his ear.
Lucky Marks, along with Rain and her younger sister Rylee, pulled into the driveway behind my motorcycle and turned their bikes off.
“Are you all good, or do you need us to come in?” Zoey asked as I walked closer to her truck.
“What was that about?” Rain asked.
“We were being followed by a car I didn’t recognize, but we lost them before we got back on the loop,” I explained. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but Corey’s on the phone with someone right now.”
“He probably called dispatch so he can give them a description of the car to make a report,” Zane suggested as he walked up. He waved at our friends and then smiled at Garvey before he greeted his sister. “Hey, Zozo.”
“If you don’t need us, we’re going back home,” Zoey said as she started the truck.
“We’re going to leave too,” Rain called out. “Call me if you need something and let me know what Corey says about the car.”
“Thanks for coming for me,” I called out as I waved goodbye.
“Tell Corey I’ve got to go on a call, but to send me a text if he needs me. I’ll be up since I’m on call.”
“Thanks, Zane. How did you know we needed help?”
“I was getting in my truck when Zoey hauled ass out of her driveway, so I followed her,” Zane explained.
“Thanks again.”
“Not a problem,” Zane said as he started to walk back to his truck. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”
“I know, which makes me feel even more horrible about being such a bitch to you all these years.”
“Well, it was nice to find out why, and I hope that stops since you got things straight.”
“Definitely,” I assured him before he got into his truck.
I turned around and found Corey was still on the phone, so I opened the garage door and walked my bike inside while I waited for him to finish his call. When he didn’t follow me in, I motioned for him to come inside before I used the door leading into my mudroom to enter my house.
I’d been living here for quite a while and had made the rental my home, but hadn’t done anything too permanent because I planned to buy my own place soon - probably one of the larger houses here in the same neighborhood. However, I was still sinking the majority of my money into my business, so I hadn’t pulled the trigger on that grown-up adventure quite yet.
It was reassuring to know that I wasn’t responsible for fixing problems on the property. Instead, all I had to do was call one of the older Forrester brothers - Adam, Heath, or Joshua, and they’d have the problem taken care of as soon as possible.
That wasn’t the case with the building I co-owned with Dixie and Piper. If anything needed maintenance, it was up to us to either fix it or hire to have the work done for us.
I kicked off my boots in the mudroom and walked across the tile toward the refrigerator for a drink. Corey had made good on his promise to feed me a good steak so I wouldn’t have to make food to take along with my medications this evening. I took care of that and had just finished setting up the coffee maker for the morning when Corey came in from the garage.
I could hear the big door rolling down behind him before he shut the door, and by the time he turned around, I had grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator for him. He crossed the kitchen and took it from me before he downed almost half of it in one long drink.
When he stopped to take a breath, I asked, “What was that about?”
“I’m not really sure. I am almost positive they were following us, but I wasn’t able to get a plate number to run.”
“I think they were too.”
“I’m sorry our date ended so abruptly,” Corey said before he took another drink.
I didn’t even think about it when I replied, “The end of the date better be in the morning when I wake up with no less than three bite marks and two hickeys in unmentionable places.”
Corey choked on the water he was trying to swallow. Just to make it worse, I ripped my shirt off and tossed it aside before I pushed my leggings down and stepped out of them, pulling off my socks at the same time.
By the time I stood up, clad only in my bra and panties, Corey had caught his breath and was watching me with heat in his eyes.
“Damn, Medusa,” Corey muttered as his gaze slowly trailed up my nearly bare body.
I wasn’t usually a shy woman, although most wouldn’t know that, considering the lengths I took to cover up, but the way his eyes devoured me gave me chill bumps. After a solid minute of him studying me, I started to get self-conscious.
No, I did not work out so that I could keep my body toned. Yes, I ate right . . . most of the time. However, I worked in a bakery surrounded by delicious sweets that someone had to sample for quality, and, of course, since I was the creator, I got plenty of nibbles throughout the day.
Your legs aren’t bad. He seems to like them. Thank God you shaved this morning or this could have ended badly. Half the time, you’re walking around with enough stubble to start a brush fire if you rub your calves together. At least you chose a decent pair of panties, even though they don’t match the bra.
Why are bras for big boobs always nude or black? Why can’t I have a black lace bra with a little bow in the middle?
Because, dumbass, lace wouldn’t hold up to the stress, and after a while, your nipples would be swapping stories with your belly button. That’s why
Oh, shit. Why is he doing that with his eyes? Are my hips so wide that he has to blink twice before he gets from one side to the other? Yes, there’s some extra there, but what’s that old saying? More cushion for the pushin’.
So fucking stupid. You know someone with a dick came up with that one.
Oh, he’s looking at my belly. Fuck.
Move up to my boobs already, man! Damn! Check out these guns I’ve got from working with dough. Go back down to my legs, which aren’t bad because I’m on my feet all day, but please avoid everything in between because my belly is not flat, my hips are wider than my truck, and there’s enough junk in my trunk to have a garage sale.
To the boobs, dammit!
Corey’s eyes finally settled on my chest, which was exactly why I insisted on wearing high-neck T-shirts and anything else loose enough to cover the girls. They were the focal point of my body, probably because they were each as big as my fucking head and had been since I was twelve.
That made sports fun. It also made finding clothes a real blast. Every time one of my friends said they were envious of my chest, I wanted to smack them upside the head and then tape two cantaloupes to their chest and watch them try to navigate the world without toppling over.
You’re dissociating, Janis. You know this, right? You’re thinking about boobs and shoulder pain because his face just went slack at the sight of your tits, and you’re not sure if that drool at the corner of his mouth is because he can’t wait to get his mouth on them or he just had a stroke.
If he didn’t hurry this shit up, he was going to make me have a stroke.
“Fuck it!” I exclaimed as I reached for my T-shirt that had landed on the counter and then got hooked on the drawer pull as it slid to the floor. “Let’s just forget this ever . . .”
“I am never going to forget this,” Corey said in a gravelly voice as he reached out and took the shirt from me. “This must be the way people who like museums and art feel when they’re standing in front of the Mona Lisa. This is probably how the devout feel as the pope rides by in his Popemobile. If I was a cartoon, my eyes would be bugged out and sweat would be streaming down my face.”
When Corey blinked and then reached up to check his own forehead, I burst out laughing. His gaze went back down to my chest. I knew my boobs were jiggling and didn’t even care.
He got that faraway look in his eyes again, and I smiled to myself.
Yeah, I might have been standing here unsure of myself and critiquing every inch of exposed skin, but he was struck dumb by the sight of what I thought wasn’t good enough.
The urge to moonwalk across the kitchen and then jump for joy came over me, but I knew that would never happen. I had the rhythm of a drunk frat boy who just peed on an electric fence, and if I jumped up and down, one of my nipples would probably spring free and I’d end up wearing an eyepatch for the rest of my life.
I couldn’t help but giggle at that thought and, without thinking, said, “Arr, matey!”
“Do you have some sort of pirate fetish?” Corey asked.
I started laughing again before I asked, “What if I do?”
“I’ll show you my peg leg if you’ll let me captain the Mayflower.”
“I thought it was the . . .”
“Shut up with the history and kiss me, Medusa. I’ve been waiting very patiently.”
“Good grief, Donut. Do I have to do everything?” I countered.