The Biker's Fate Chapter 495

Melody

"So, what are you doing again?" Brandy asked as I grabbed a leather jacket from one of the many racks of clothing sent over from designers hoping I'd wear one of their items out in public. Our show was at the famed Red Rocks Amphitheatre tomorrow night, so we were taking advantage of the glory that was Colorado.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Train said he's getting me out of town for a bit. Away from the paparazzi."

We had a day off, so Train promised he was going to take me away from the glitz for a few hours and I jumped at the chance to be alone with him.

"Do you need me to do anything?" she asked.

"Nope. Just keep your phone on," I said. "In fact, go hang by the pool, enjoy an adult beverage or three. Order room service. Whatever. Put it on the tab. Seriously, you deserve it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I called the Cherry Creek Louis Vuitton this morning and your name is on their list, so you go have yourself a little shopping spree. It's all covered."

"What?" she squeaked. "I couldn't."

"You absolutely could," I argued. "Take Chip with you."

Brandy frowned.

"Or not," I countered. "Do whatever. My point is, have a day to yourself. There's a great spa here. Take advantage of it. It's on me."

"Wow, okay. Thanks."

I smiled. "You're welcome." My phone buzzed on the dresser, and I leaned over to read the screen. "Train's outside. You good?"

"I'm great," Brandy said. "I'll send him in."

"Thanks," I said distractedly, pulling on my leather boots.

"You look beautiful."

I glanced up, then up some more…I always forgot how big Train actually was. "Thank you."

He grinned. "You're welcome."

I stood, raising myself on my tiptoes to kiss him quickly. "Hi."

"Hey, baby."

"You look pretty good yourself," I said, taking in his dark jeans, black Henley, motorcycle boots, and his club cut and leather jacket. "Where are you taking me today?"

"Surprise. You ready?"

"No, I mean, how far away?"

"Far enough so you can decompress, but close enough that if there's an emergency, we can get back quick."

"We could just stay here. You know, in bed. I've told everyone we're leaving, so no one will even check."

"We're leaving the hustle and bustle of Denver, Melody. The world won't end if we do."

"All of this is on my shoulders, Nash. If—"

"Wart, quit," he ordered. "Brandy's got it handled, and you're gonna fuckin' relax if it kills you… and me."

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my hands out. "Relax. Right. Yes. Okay."

He chuckled.

"I'm on it," I said. "But seriously, where are we going?"

"Still a surprise."

"Well, I do love surprises." I grabbed my bag and Train raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "What?"

"You need to pare that down to half the size. Whatever'll fit in my saddlebag."

"We're on your bike?"

"Yep."

I bit my lip. "Um, okay. Well, shit. I have my whole face in there. Not to mention hair stuff, and—" I found the bag dumped out onto the bed and I squeaked out, "What are you doing?"

"We're walkin' outta here in four minutes. Repack your bag with half that shit."

"What about waters and—"

"You get thirsty, we'll stop for water. You get hungry, we'll stop for food. You get horny, we'll stop and fuck," he said. "You don't need makeup, you're beautiful without it. Bring a brush and tie for your hair. That's all you need."

"Okay, I know you're complimenting me right now but you're being bossy and being all alpha on top of that which makes me horny as fuck, but you're also pissing me off, and quite frankly, I don't know what to do with all of those emotions coming at me," I growled.

Train chuckled, wrapping his arm around my waist, and turning me to face him. "You know exactly what to do with those emotions, beautiful. You let 'em fill you up and make you feel gooey inside, 'cause you know they make you feel whole. Now, grab your shit so we don't miss the beauty of a desert sunset."

I wrinkled my nose and gripped his jacket. "Well, when you put it like that…"

He grinned, leaning down to kiss me, then we grabbed my bag, now less than half full and snuck out the back of the hotel to his awaiting bike.

"You ever ridden?" Train asked as he handed me a helmet.

"No."

"Right. Hands around my waist. Lean with me. If you need to stop, tap my leg. Got it?"

I nodded. "Got it."

"Where are your gloves."

"Oh, here," I said, pulling them out of my jacket pocket. He'd insisted I wear as much leather as possible for safety, and luckily, I had trunks and trunks of options that traveled with me on tour.

Once he was satisfied I was dressed appropriately, he helped me climb onto his giant Harley-Davidson motorcycle and started it up. I had to admit the second the roar of the pipes vibrated between my legs, I was instantly wet.

We drove for about half an hour and I saw the signs indicating we were approaching the amphitheater but rather than entering the national park, Train took us toward an area filled with restaurants and hotels. He pulled up and parked in front of a BBQ joint, flipping the visor of his helmet up. "Hungry?"

"Oh my god, for proper BBQ? Yes," I hissed out.

He chuckled and helped me off the bike before we removed our helmets and headed inside.

"Holy shit," someone hissed under their breath. "You're Melody Morgan."

Train stepped in front of me. "Let's pretend she's not. Or we'll go somewhere else."

The young girl's face paled and she dropped her head back to stare up at him with a nod. "Ah, right. Sorry, so sorry."