The Opposite of Wild

The Opposite of Wild by Kylie Gilmore Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Opposite of Wild by Kylie Gilmore Read Free Book Online
Authors: Kylie Gilmore
Tags: Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy
touch.”
    “No problem.” Mike pulled a business card from his pocket. Ryan shook his head, and Mike slid the card back in.
    When they got outside, Liz stood by her car, a practical white Honda Civic, but Gran kept walking in the other direction. What the hell? Is she confused? He was about to call Gran back when he realized where she was going. The Ducati dealer—another motorcycle shop—two doors down.
    “Wait!” Ryan caught up to her and blocked the path with his body. “I said it was too dangerous.”
    Liz appeared at Gran’s side, flushed and slightly out of breath from running. He had a brief vision of Liz flushed and panting for a very different reason. Don’t go there . He focused back on Gran.
    “I want to feel the wind in my hair when I’m on the road,” Gran was saying. “It’s exhilarating.” She shook her head, and the short tufts of white hair barely moved.
    “Then open the windows,” he said.
    She narrowed her eyes. “Move out of the way.”
    He didn’t budge. “Gran, no motorcycle.”
    “Young man, you are not the boss of me.”
    Thirty-four years old and I’m still young man.
    “Someone has to look out for you,” he said through clenched teeth.
    Liz looked back and forth between them like she was watching an intense tennis match.
    “I look out for me!” Gran said, lifting her chin.
    “It’s not safe,” he said in an even tone, reaching for calm.
    She jabbed him in the chest. “It’s safe enough for you!”
    “I’m not your age!”
    “So I’m supposed to just sit in a plastic bubble until I die?”
    “No,” he said quietly. He didn’t like to hear her talk about death. She’d been there for him and his brothers when no one else had. Nothing could happen to her. “Gran, come on. Let’s just go home.”
    Gran crossed her arms mulishly.
    Liz piped up. “What about that?”
    They both turned to see where Liz was pointing. Across the street, the Ford dealer had a shiny red Mustang convertible displayed on a second-floor pedestal. “You could feel the wind in your hair even better with a convertible. No helmet.”
    “Brilliant!” Gran proclaimed. “I’ve never had a convertible. Let’s go.” She headed back toward Liz’s car.
    Amazing . Ryan looked at Liz. “Thank you,” he mouthed.
    She blushed.
    He slowed his walk and let Gran pull ahead of them. “You’re good with her.”
    She grinned cheekily. “Watch and learn.”
    He cracked a smile. She’s messing with me . “Okay. So you’re better with reasoning with her. I would have said no in the first place.”
    Liz halted, and her blue eyes flashed at him. He felt a jolt at her beauty as her expression came to life. “You don’t tell a woman like Maggie no. She’s smart and savvy and can make her own decisions.”
    He loved seeing her riled up. She had fire in her. “Sometimes people don’t know what’s good for them, Liz.” He gave her a wicked smile.
    She licked her lips nervously, and, damn , she looked like a pinup model hiding in librarian clothes. All that was missing was the glasses.
    Her hands fluttered in the air. “What makes you think you know what she needs?”
    He leaned in close, his mouth to her ear. “Some people send out that signal loud and clear.” He pulled back to make a slow appraisal from her buttoned-up shirt to the white, belted pants to… fire-engine-red toenails peeking out of sandals. Not what he’d expected. Something about those red toes turned him on. What else is she hiding under that buttoned-up exterior?
    Their gazes locked. He found himself leaning down toward her. Just one taste. Her breathing hitched. Then she surprised him. She stepped back, pursing her lips and giving him a slow once-over in return. By the time she’d finished, her cheeks were a gratifying shade of red.
    He gave her a slow smile. “Nicely done,” he said, working on riling her up again.
    She whirled away.
    “You two are slower than a senior scooter race,” Gran called from where she stood

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