Page 2 of Ride or Die

“His name is Cookie, by the way.”

Riley couldn’t help her snort. The black and white mud monster looked like an Oreo. “Of course it is,” she said, and her hand jumped as Cookie nudged it.

The man’s smile started slow and crooked and ended in happiness that crinkled his eyes. An unexpected kindness hid there, and it looked like it would feel soft if he let someone in.

Riley pushed the thought away. She couldn’t tell anymore if people were kind just by looking.

“I’m Saint.” He held out his hand, and she stared for a moment before she took it. The deep bronze of his skin was sun-weathered even though it had been raining for months.

“It’s nice to meet you, Saint. I’m Riley.” She forced the right words out, and his warm hand swallowed hers, calloused and strong. Her fingers tightened, instinctively pulling the heat closer as warmth zipped down her spine. She dropped his hand and stepped back. You can be cool for five fucking seconds. Come on.

“He hasn’t slipped his collar in years. Not since he’s been medicated.” Saint crouched and buckled the leather collar around the dog’s thick neck, looking up at her before he stood again. His eyes looked black in the flat light. There was something about them…

Saint waited expectantly while Riley forgot how small talk worked.

Dear god.

“What kind of medication? Is he sick?” Riley crouched down to pet Cookie and warmed her hands in the dog’s armpits. He wiggled with delight, full of energy and life. He didn’t care that she was incapable of adult conversation with attractive people.

“Anxiety, but he’s doing a lot better.”

Riley glanced up. Saint gives his dog psychiatric meds?

“Wow,” she said, cheeks warming under his gaze.

You can do it. It’s just a conversation.

“I’m glad you found something that worked. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs after a long week—like me,” she said, brushing a few splatters off her coat. She pivoted in the mud, keeping her knees out of it as Cookie jumped and rubbed on her. She avoided falling again with incredible agility.

“It’s Monday.” Saint held the leash loosely, more of a suggestion of control than anything else.

“Unfortunately,” Riley agreed politely. “You know how it is, grinding for the corporate overlords.” Or maybe he didn’t. He didn’t look like the corporate type.

One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I just fix bikes. No corporate overlords for me.”

The dream. “Really? What kind of bikes?”

“Choppers, mostly, but anything they bring me. You ride?” His direct eye contact held an intensity that made heat bloom in her belly.

“Not anymore. Used to, though. But just dirt bikes, nothing too exciting.” Riley looked down and found the paw prints in the mud between her feet were suddenly riveting.

“You look like you miss it.” His voice pulled her gaze up, soft and rough at the same time.

“Yeah, I do.” She’d forgotten how much fun it was.

He shifted closer, his back to the breeze that kicked at her umbrella. She picked it up and shook the mud off.

Saint tugged gently on the leash and Cookie let out a forlorn sigh at Riley’s feet.

“Thanks for catching him for me.”

Riley blinked. Such a simple thank-you shouldn’t make her feel quite that warm inside. “Anytime.”

He nodded, that half-smile on his face like it was just for her. “Bye, Riley.”

She watched them go, leash swinging under the streetlight. Cold settled over her, and the rain fell harder. She hadn’t noticed when it’d picked up from the steady drizzle earlier in the evening.

No one had made her forget the rain before.