She tied her hair into a ponytail at her nape and slid the helmet on. As she adjusted the helmet to fit as best it could, he climbed on and held out a hand to her.
“Have you ridden before?”
She nodded. “It's been a while though.”
“I'll take it slow. Where are we going?”
“Take Fullerton east. I'll let you know when to turn.” She hiked her skirt up to an almost indecent spot and swung a leg over. “I'll tap you when we're close.”
He almost asked if she'd tap when she was close to coming during sex, but thought it might end their date too quickly. He wasn't sure what to make of Emma. The girl wearing the buttoned-up suit didn't match the one who wanted to ride and hiked that skirt like it was nothing. Getting her to relax was going to be interesting.
When he started the engine, she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Yeah, that felt good.
The sun dipped low in the sky, but was still strong enough to warm his skin. He was so used to wearing a helmet that he almost forgot how good it felt to ride without. If his brother Jimmy ever found out, Sean would be in for another lecture, but at the moment, he didn't care. What Jimmy didn't know wouldn't hurt anyone.
Sean eased onto the street and followed the directions Emma had given him. The neighborhood was alive for a Friday night. Kids ran across lawns and into the street. Smells of food cooking on grills reminded him that he hadn't eaten dinner. A couple of houses had cars up on blocks in the driveway, for those few houses lucky enough to have a driveway. Some people sat on front steps hoping to catch a cool breeze to break the heat of the day. Cars lined the street and he was glad he drove a motorcycle. Parking would be a bitch around here.
Emma tapped his chest and he pulled over at the corner in front of a fire hydrant. He held out a hand to help her off and couldn't help but look as she tugged her skirt while climbing off. She removed the helmet. Her ponytail loosened and locks flew around her face.
“It's a few houses back.”
“I'll wait here.” He took the helmet from her and watched as she pulled her bag from across her body.
A little more than ten minutes later, she was on her way back. The sight of her knocked the wind from him. Snug jeans and fitted tank top covered her and a sweatshirt was tied at her waist. She'd traded the heels for a pair of sneakers. Her hair was now completely down and waves flew around in the breeze. For a moment he considered that she'd lied about it being her mom's place because he didn't know any moms who dressed like that. But her bag was overstuffed, he assumed with her clothes.
He pushed off the bike. “That was fast.”
She offered a crooked smile. “I really need a drink. The radiator hose was the last in a line of things ruining my day.”
“Hop on and you can tell me all about it over a beer. Or wine. Or whatever.”
“Tonight's a whiskey night.”
Sean liked the sound of that. They mounted the bike and she put the helmet on. Before he started the engine, he asked, “Any place in mind?”
“No. You pick.”
Since he normally didn't drink in the area, he drove closer to his neighborhood and parked beside his favorite dive bar. It was dark and relatively quiet. They could shoot pool or play darts or just listen to music. He helped Emma off the bike and locked his helmet down. Then he led her into the bar and directly to a corner table.
“This okay?” he asked before sitting.
She glanced around. “Fine.”
She swung her bag over her head and plopped it on the free chair between them. A waitress came by. “What can I get you?”
“A shot of Jack and lite beer.”
“Miller.”
“Bottle or tap?”
“Bottle,” both he and Emma said. Emma's mouth eased into a small smile.
After the waitress left, Sean asked, “So what makes this a whiskey night other than your brother screwing up your car?”
“Work stuff.”
“What do you do?”
Before she could answer, the waitress returned with their drinks. Emma grabbed the shot and slammed it back. When she set the glass back down, he noticed a butterfly tattoo peeking out from the tank top on the back of her shoulder. She looked at him. “I'm a teacher.”
He froze. He hadn't expected that. One look at the suit she wore and he'd assumed some kind of office job, secretary or something. She was a teacher. He laughed as she took a gulp of beer.
“What's so funny?”
“I can't imagine any teacher I ever had doing a shot of Jack in a bar like this.”
A dark look passed over her face, but then she covered it with a smile. “I guess we all have some surprises.”
He reached over and brushed her hair off her shoulder. “I can guarantee I never had a teacher as hot as you. I never would've gotten out of school otherwise.”
Emma snorted at him and then took another drink of beer. “You already got me to the bar, buddy, no need for compliments.”
Sean's hand slid away. He didn't know how to read that. Women usually liked some sweet talk. “Being honest. If you were my teacher I'd spend all my time imagining you naked.”
“Show me a good time and you might not have to imagine it.” Her voice was low and a little husky.
“You mean rigging your car to get you to safety, giving you a ride on my bike, and buying you a drink wasn't enough?”
She laughed. That too was a low, sexy sound. “I might be easy, but not that easy.”
“I can guarantee a good time once you're naked.” She didn't look convinced. “In the meantime, we can shoot some darts in back. Or play pool.”
“Okay, let's go.” She grabbed her bag and her beer and slid from the chair.
Sean hadn't expected her to want to play, but if that showed her the good time she wanted, he'd play. She beelined for the dartboard. As she yanked darts from the cork, he asked, “Is your brother older or younger?”
She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Older. Why?”
He watched her mark 301 on each side of the board. She'd obviously played before. “Making conversation. Any other siblings?”
“Nope. How about you?” She pointed at the board.
He nodded. “Three brothers and one sister.”
“Holy cow. Five kids? Who does that?”
He accepted the darts she handed him. “Irish Catholics. I live in a neighborhood full of 'em.”
“Where do you come in?”
“Dead middle. Two older brothers, one younger, and the baby is my sister.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Middle-child syndrome. Always being forgotten, struggling to get a piece of attention.” She pointed a finger in his general direction. “Explains the whole rebel thing you have going on.”
Rebel? He didn't think of himself as a rebel. He just did what he wanted. “You're off base.”
“I bet your oldest brother is super responsible.”
She had him there. Jimmy was the most responsible guy he knew. Sean had always attributed it to Jimmy taking care of them after their mom had been killed. “There are extenuating circumstances.”
One of her eyebrows arched up. “You and the older brother next in line are middle children. If you're the rebel, my guess is that he's the clown.”
Sean froze as he lined up his first shot with a dart. “It's a little eerie that you did that. I'm not much of a rebel, but Kevin has always been the clown.”
She bumped him out of the way. “Ladies first.” She let a dart sail across the room. Triple-point eighteen. “And the two youngest are coddled by everyone in the family because they're the babies.”
She threw her other two darts for a double twenty and a nineteen.
“How did you do that?”
She pointed at the board again. “Good aim.”
“No. The things about my siblings.” Sean paused and remembered Leena who had picked him up at a bar last summer. It wasn't until after he'd gotten her home that he'd discovered that not only was she one of Jimmy's exes, but she was weird. “Did you ever go out with Jimmy O'Malley?”
“No. Who's Jimmy?”
“My oldest brother.” He took his mark and threw the dart. Fifteen. First shot and she was already kicking his ass. He halfheartedly finished his turn.
“As far as I know, I've never met an O'Malley. Pretty sure I'd remember.” She took a swig of beer. “As far as understanding birth order, I did a paper on it a few years ago. Fascinating stuff. I bet I could do a whole thesis on the dynamics of a family like yours.”
He laughed. “My family isn't that interesting.”
She stood to take her turn as he yanked his darts from the cork. “Hey, by your explanation, your brother would be super responsible like mine. He'd never say he'd fix your car and not do it.”
She smiled. “Extenuating circumstances.”