home » Romance » Colleen Masters » Impossibly (Dante's Nine MC #1) » Impossibly (Dante's Nine MC #1) Page 21

Impossibly (Dante's Nine MC #1) Page 21
Author: Colleen Masters

Excitement and fear war inside of me as we set off together. Everything is darkness and noise as we take off. I can’t will myself to open my eyes just yet. The warm June winds whip around me as we tear away from my campus, through the city of Berkeley, and out onto the open road that will deliver us into the heart of Las Vegas at our journey’s end. I can’t believe I’m really doing this!

“You OK, Kassie?” Declan shouts over the roaring engine.

“Yeah, sure!” I reply, my voice a strangled squeak.

“I promise you, sweetheart, you’re perfectly safe,” he assures me, “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. Open your eyes. Enjoy the view.”

It takes me a long moment, but at last, I manage to pry my eyes open as we fly down the highway together. California rushes by at top speed as we cruise along. It’s like the world itself is parting for us to pass. My eyes grow wide behind my visor as I struggle to take in the gorgeous sunset view that rolls out all around us. Clouds spill out over the road in bright shades of pink and orange as the green hills rise up in the distance. There’s nothing to think or care about in this moment. Just me, the sky, the earth...and Declan Tiberi.

“Nothing better in the world than an open highway,” he says, “Especially with this kind of company.”

“It’s almost too much,” I breathe, raising my eyes to the vaulting sky.

“Kassie, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he grins.

I clench my arms around him as we take on speed, the Harley's screaming vibrations beneath us. There’s something so surprisingly erotic about straddling this much power. I’m almost turned on by it. I wonder if that has more to do with the machine beneath me or the man who’s driving it?

I watch as my graduation gown comes loose from the saddlebag and flies off into the wind. A raucous laugh rips out of my throat as I watch the garment flap away in the warm air. If I needed any clearer sign that my old life is over, there it is. I’m starting fresh. From this moment on, I can be anything I want to be. Anyone I want to be.

And right now, being the woman on the back of Declan Tiberi’s bike seems like as good a place as any to start.

CHAPTER EIGHT

As we cross the state border into Nevada, I’m amazed to find that only a couple of hours have passed since we departed. Declan was not kidding about making good time on this bike. But even though we’ve been zipping along at insane speeds, the Harley rides so smooth; and I never once felt unsafe in Declan’s care. The sun is just beginning to set as we turn off into a rest stop for a quick break. A shabby neon sign reading “Diner” hangs overhead in the twilight, beckoning us toward an old-fashioned greasy spoon. The joint is little more than a silver trailer, but my appetite has just kicked in, big time. I’m not in a picky mood.

Declan helps me off the back of the bike and leads me into the diner. Stepping inside is like traveling back in time. A dusty jukebox spits out classic rock for the two or three bikers who sit at the bar. I slide into the closest booth, the well-worn vinyl soft as cotton beneath me. This is certainly a far cry from the organic, vegetarian places I’m used to frequenting around campus.

A plump, no-nonsense waitress bustles over to us as we take our seats, brandishing a couple of patched-up menus.

“Been seeing a lot of you these days,” the woman says to Declan.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Mae,” Declan grins.

Mae raises her penciled-on eyebrows, planting a hand on her rounded hip, “It’s not a bad thing as long as it’s just you,” she says, noticing me at last, “Or you and a friend, of course. It’s just when you bring your whole pack along that I get peeved. What’s your name, baby?”

“I’m Kassenia,” I tell her, “It’s nice to meet—”

“Ka-sayn-ya?” she laughs, “What kind of a name is that? We mostly get Destiny’s and Cherry’s around these parts. Especially with these biker types hanging around.”

“You know I’m not that kind of biker, Mae,” Declan chides gently, “And Kassie here is not the kind of girl you’re used to either.”

“No, I can see that,” Mae says, not unkindly, “Why don’t I get you two a couple of house specials before you hit the road?”

She’s off again before we can reply. I cock my head playfully at Declan, “Not too many Destiny’s for you, huh?” I ask. “I guess I should take comfort in that.”

“Yeah, I’m not so big on the easy company. Or at least, not the kind of company you have to pay for,” he replies, resting his elbows on the table, “I usually like to travel alone.”

“I guess I should feel honored then, right?” I ask.

“That’s right,” he grins, “You’re one of a kind, Kassie. I don’t just bring anyone along on the back of my Harley. How’re you liking your first real bike ride?”

“It’s...incredible,” I admit, “Unlike anything else. I used to ride horses, when I was kid. I thought that was the wildest ride I’d ever know, but this...”

“I knew you’d love it,” he says, “Think of this little ride as an initiation. A kick off to the best summer of your life. You’re going to love it in Vegas. I’ve got your place all set up. My business associates are going to love you—”

“What about my stuff at home?” I ask, suddenly remembering, “My clothes, and—”

“Kassie,” Declan cuts me off, “I talked to your friend Kelly before the graduation ceremony and she's going to be mailing your essentials, but I think we can spring for some new clothes once we’re there. Don’t you? Professional presentation will just be one of the bases we cover during this internship. We need to make sure that you have all the tools you need to take a running leap with this startup idea, and a new wardrobe is part of that.”

I stare at him across the table top. This whole thing really is too good to be true.

“You’re going to buy me a new wardrobe?” I ask, amazed.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “For starters. Then of course, we’ll have to practice the art of cocktail party conversation. Not to mention blackjack table business etiquette. Of course, brushing up on your poolside manners won’t hurt. We're building your brand too, after all.”

“So in other words, we’re going to shop, drink, gamble, and hang out by the pool. For the sake of my startup?” I ask.

Search
Colleen Masters's Novels
» Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC #3)
» Imperfectly (Dante's Nine MC #2)
» Impossibly (Dante's Nine MC #1)
» Stepbrother Billionaire
» Stepbrother Untouchable