Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” I admitted, the Nervous Nellie in me acting up.
“No?”
I shook my head. “I wanted to try a Vespa when I was in Italy once but I was too scared. Is it … safe?”
“Yes, I have an extra helmet and I promise I’m a careful driver, but if you’d rather take the truck, that’s fine too.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ll always choose the bike,” he said.
I decided to be brave. “Let’s do it.”
“You might want a jacket. Do you have one?”
“I have a blazer I could grab.”
He grinned. “Yeah, that’s not what I meant. You know what? I have an extra. It’s going to be big, but it’ll be better than nothing.”
“Okay.” The teenager in me loved the idea of wearing his jacket.
He ran inside the house to grab it and came out a moment later. As expected, it was big on me, but wasn’t that part of the kick of wearing something that belonged to a guy you liked?
He brought the bike out of the garage, then went back in for the helmets. When he handed one to me, I realized I’d have to take my messy bun down. I pulled out all the pins, stuck them in my purse, and shook out my hair.
That’s when I noticed Ryan was staring at me, transfixed.
“What?” I asked.
“That was sexy as fuck, the way you just did that.”
I smiled, feeling sexy as fuck, for once. “Thanks.”
Five minutes later, we were cruising down the street, my arms wrapped around him, the wind in my face. I can’t say I wasn’t a little apprehensive at being so unprotected on the road, but there was very little traffic, and soon I began to relax. He felt solid and strong inside my embrace, and I pressed close to him. I trusted he would keep me safe.
When we reached the inn, he pulled past the main house and restaurant and drove around the back of one of the outbuildings, a big red barn with a sign over double doors that said CELEBRATION.
He parked on a large brick-paved patio beneath a wooden pergola twined with ivy, and held the bike steady so I could get off. It was dark at this time of night, but I could tell how beautiful the spot would be for an intimate wedding dinner or ceremony, with a view of the vineyard and rolling hills beyond. The back side of the barn had been fitted with huge, multi-paned windows facing west, perfect for viewing the sunset.
“This is so pretty,” I said, removing the helmet. “Is this for weddings?”
“Mostly.”
“Emme should see this. She’s a wedding planner, although most of her events are in or around Detroit.”
“Want to look inside?”
“Sure.”
He had a key that unlocked the double mullion doors between the windows. He opened one for me, and I stepped into a cavernous, shadowy space.
“Just a second, I’ll turn on some lights.” He disappeared, and a moment later, several strands of party lights illuminated one end of the barn, where there was a wooden bar near what might have been a band platform. A second after that, a huge chandelier hanging from a rafter at the center of the building lit up a rectangular dance floor. I could see round tables lining the sides of the space, and one long, rectangular table at the dim far end.
I gasped. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! I can’t imagine how pretty it looks all lit up, with flowers and candles and linens. Emme would be swooning.”
“It does look nice.”
“Do you work at weddings here?”
He shook his head. “Just set up and tear-down.”
“Still an important job. I know how hard my sister works behind the scenes to make sure everything looks effortless.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Stay with me. I need to turn the lights off and I don’t want you to trip. We’ll go out the front doors.”
He’s holding my hand! He’s holding my hand!
A few minutes later, we were strolling down the short paved road to the inn, my hand still inside his. He’d let go of it in order to open the door and re-lock it behind us, but I was glad when he reached for me again.
At the inn’s restaurant, which was on the main floor off the lobby, we were greeted by a woman who smiled warmly at both of us. “Hey, Ryan.”
“Hey, April. Got you working in here tonight, huh?”
“That’s what happens when you’re the boss’s daughter.” She rolled her eyes, but she laughed. “You’d think we’d get special treatment, but nope—we’re always on call to fill in.”
Ryan put a hand on my back. “This is Stella. She’s Ruth Gardner’s granddaughter, visiting from Detroit.”
April smiled and held out her hand. “Wonderful! Who doesn’t love Ruthie Gardner? I keep bugging her to share her pie crust recipe with me. It’s divine. But she guards it like a mama bear.”