Page 9 of Steele

“Mrs. Bardot?” His muffled voice cut through the blood rushing through my ears.

Because the power to the windows was out, I cracked open the door. “Mr. Steele.” This was the dangerous man I remembered. Leather vest with patches, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, worn jeans that hugged his hips and thighs, and a shirt that gripped every scandalous muscle of his chest and shoulders.

He approached the window. “My wife, err, ex-wife, has the same bumper sticker.”

The elementary school mascot with Roar with the Tigers.

“Both your right-side tires are flat.”

“I know, and the car won’t start. Roadside is on their way.”

He stood, glanced right and left at the traffic rushing past, then squatted next to the cracked open door. “I can’t leave you out here alone.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. The tow truck will be here soon.”

“I’ll wait on my bike until the tow gets here.”

I shook my head. “There’s no need. You should get home. It’ll be raining in a few minutes.”

“Nothing wrong with getting a little wet.” He smiled, and the dimple in his left cheek winked at me. I scolded the repressed, thirsty inner ho checking out his ass in the side mirror as he walked back to his bike.

I hadn’t had sex in almost two years, not since before Jeff died, but not because there weren’t options. If I wanted to get laid, I could get on a dating app. When she wasn’t hooking up with guys from Roosters, Holly used Tinder like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Even if she wasn’t hungry, she could find someone worth sampling.

My brother had tried to set me up with a couple of his friends, but I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t just a grieving mother. I was a pissed off widow who’d been betrayed, and I’d never trust another man again.

Nothing could make me forget my grief, but Brett Steele could make me forget my name. I let my imagination play out the scene.

If I could forget who I was, for just a night, I could forget he was my student’s father.

I could forget that he’d only shown up for his daughter once since she’d been in my class. What did it matter? I hated my life. I hated who I’d become. I didn’t want to live my life anymore.

I wanted to be the woman who loved sex, even if I hated that my only experiences were with a man I hated. My kitty hadn’t purred in a long time. Obviously, in the last thirty seconds, she’d gone feral because he’d looked damn good squatting next to my car in all his badass motorcycle clothes and dangerous biker gang patches.

After several minutes, he turned off his motorcycle. In the blinking glare of my car’s rear flashers, I could see him sitting on his bike. He seemed comfortable, glancing at his phone, and periodically lifting his head to watch for the tow.

He’d be waiting a while. I checked my phone again. Oh my god. The time had gone from two hours and eighteen minutes to two hours and forty-three minutes. I glanced into my rearview mirror again. I had to tell him. He could be sitting here all night.

As soon as the highway was clear of traffic, I popped open my door. Mr. Steele was off his bike in an instant and rushed to intercept me.

“There’s an issue with the tow,” I said.

“This side.” His hand was a hot brand against my back as he led me to the protected side of my car. He blocked the wind with his back and leaned into me. “What happened?”

“I guess it’s a busy night. The tow truck isn’t going to be here for a while. It could be three hours. You can’t stay out here all night.”

He released a heavy exhale. “Neither can you. Let the tow know you’re leaving the vehicle. I can take you home.”

I shifted my gaze to his motorcycle. “I appreciate the offer, but—”

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

“No.” Just the thought had adrenaline surging through me, and that had nothing on the hot shot of something that would not be named that was slipping though my veins when I thought of being that close to Brett Steele. “I’ll call for a ride share.”

“Mrs. Bardot, I’m not going to argue with you, and I’m also not going to let you sit out here alone for the next three hours. You can call for a ride share, but I’ll wait and then I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there safely. Are you waiting in your car or are you getting on the bike because it’s about to rain?” A heavy moist mist hung in the air.

I was hungry, tired, and cold and I just wanted this day to be over. “It’s Jaymi. I’m not married anymore.”

“Good to know. But it really doesn’t matter. I tend to stay out of people’s business.” He arched a brow. “Unless they’re stranded on the side of the road.”