Page 49 of Stubborn as a Shadow

“Where is yours?”

“I don’t wear one, but you don’t get that choice.”

He pouted but pulled it on. His fingers fumbled with the chin strap until I nudged his hands out of the way and did it for him. I don’t know why. I never checked the strap when Teague or one of the others borrowed it. It was probably better not to think too much about that.

I tugged the cashmere scarf from my throat and slipped it around the vulnerable expanse of Morgan’s neck. I tucked the ends into the collar of his jacket, trying to ignore the way his pulse fluttered under my touch and the way I wanted to feel it under my lips.

When he was as warm as I could make him, I swallowed hard and stepped back.

“Good. Let’s get out of here.”

17

MY RAINBOW, YOUR POT OF GOLD

MORGAN

Nelson maneuvered the big, honking motorcycle to the edge of the road. Then he brushed snow off the seat with his sleeve, before swinging his leg over the mechanical beast and sitting down. Seeing his legs like that…

Well, let’s just say his black jeans stretched over his thighs and butt very, very nicely.

I giggled. Little iridescent bubbles shot out of my mouth. Oops.

Gary had once told me only children giggled, which made me sad, so I chose not to believe him. Except what if Nelson thought the same thing? I didn’t want him to think of me as a child.

I swatted the bubbles out of the air as quickly as I could, but I was too slow. Nelson was studying one that’d landed on his sleeve. He’d seen my bubbles before, but they still appeared to fascinate him. I reached over and broke it. I didn’t know if the bubble would freeze, but it was probably better not to leave any evidence behind if we could help it.

Look at me, thinking like a master criminal.

“What do I do?”

“Climb on behind me,” he said.

Oh boy. That was… uh… intimate. My business would be all up close to his backside. He really could polish my horn like this.

Wait, hadn’t I read a book about people having sex on a bike as they drove down the road? My penis and balls shriveled, like they wanted to crawl inside me at the mere thought of whipping them out in this cold. Of course, my parts would be close to his, so they wouldn’t have a chance to get cold, would they?

I smothered another giggle trying to burst out of me at the thought of my bits snuggling with his bits, until it downgraded to a snort. A bubble still popped out.

Son of a rainbow eater.

Oh, wait—would Nelson want to eat my rainbow?

I snorted again. I needed to get on this bike so we could leave before I laughed any more. At least on the road, the bubbles should break in the wind like Nelson said.

Ha! Break in the wind, not break wind.

Okay. My brain might be broken. I rarely found fart humor funny, but right now I was laughing at it anyway. I was laughing at everything.

Sugar, fudgesicle, corn on the cob. My fear was getting out of hand. At least that’s the only explanation I could come up with for why my thoughts were so chaotic. Anxiety was making my brain shoot off in wild and ridiculous directions like a toddler without a chaperone.

I needed to stop thinking and do something. And the only thing to do was what Nelson asked. I gulped and jumped onto the motorcycle. The machine rocked beneath us.

“Hey, now,” he reprimanded as he steadied the bike. “Take it easy. No sudden movements, okay? We’re going to get away from here, but let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”

Now that I was seated, I was ready for action before I changed my mind and leaped off the bike again. I swatted his back, in some strange attempt at bravado.

And then, as if my brain couldn’t let my actions go out into the world alone, I said, “Let’s ride ‘em, cowboy. Giddy up.”