“Hey, Caleb, Trish.” Joe leaned over the bar in front of them and Caleb was annoyed at the interruption.

“What’s up, man?” In other words, leave so he could go back to talking to Trish, who after two hours of conversation, had shed her shoes and her reserve. She had a cute little spot of pink on each cheek as she dissected her favorite movie for him.

“Last call, buddy. You want anything?”

Jesus, make that four hours. Caleb looked at Joe in surprise. “It’s one-thirty?”

“Yep. Time flies when you’re sitting on your ass gabbing. But when you’re a working stiff like me, you feel it. It is most definitely one-thirty.”

Trish laughed. “And we haven’t even gotten started on the secondLord of the Rings movie yet.”

Joe groaned. “Oh, God, spare me. Caleb’s always boring the shit out of me with that fantasy elf crap, trying to drag me to those movies. I’m glad he’s found another geek to talk about it with.”

And talk they had. About everything. He’d confessed to Trish he liked bowling, too, but riding his bike better. They liked the same books, movies, sports, and thought getting on the back of a horse was just nuts.

“Geek at your service,” Trish said wryly, bending over to pick up her shoes.

She obviously had no idea he could see right down her dress to the tops of her breasts, pushed up with a black satin bra. Caleb’s mouth went dry and he felt a surge of lust so powerful he almost shot off the damn stool.

“Gorgeous geek,” he murmured.

“What?” she murmured, breathless as she stayed bent over, fooling with the straps on her heels.

“Nothing. I said you’re not a geek.”

But Joe had heard him and gave him a questioning glance. “You want some coffee or something Caleb, before you head out? You were pounding ’em pretty hard earlier.”

Joe must think it was the alcohol talking. And maybe it was, though Caleb didn’t feel drunk anymore. He just felt a heightened awareness of the room around him, sound louder than normal, color vibrant. And he felt interest in something, someone, for the first time in a hell of a long time.

“No, thanks, man, I’m fine. I guess I’ll head out soon.” Not that he wanted to leave, go home to his empty house, listen to the silence, and Spanky getting it on with his rocks.

Trish sat up, all remnants of a smile gone. “You’re not going to drive home, are you?” She nodded to Joe, commanding and prissy and somehow damn sexy. “Joe, call him a cab.”

Joe, the idiot, nodded. “Sure thing, babe.”

“Wait a minute! I can’t take a cab. I rode my bike here and I’m not leaving it in the parking lot overnight.”

Trish fiddled with her bra strap, giving him another flash of flesh. He took a deep breath and shifted, his cock caught in an uncomfortable position as it swelled enthusiastically.

“So what? Just throw it in the trunk of the cab.” Trish rolled her eyes. “I’m not letting you drive.”

There was something she was missing here, and it struck him as funny. “I don’t think a Harley will fit in the cab’s trunk.”

Joe laughed. “I’ll let you two work this out. Let me know if you want the cab company’s number.”

Trish gave him a blank look, then raised her eyebrows in understanding. “Oh, I get it. Here I was picturing you, this huge guy, pedaling a bicycle, and the thought was killing me, I’m telling you. But on a hog, okay, that makes more sense.”

“Thanks for your approval.”

“But you still can’t drive.”

And she stood up and leaned over him, hands sliding down past his waist, groping and feeling all over his thighs, her breasts brushing against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” He wasn’t sure whether to move out of her reach or grab her, throw her on the bar, and kiss her. Odds were two to one on kissing her.

“Whoa!” He jerked when her hand dipped into his jeans pocket and fished around. Christ almighty, if she shifted to the right a little she’d be stroking his johnson.

“I’m looking for your keys.” Her voice was a little breathy, and her eyes had darkened as she looked up at him, fingers stilling in both of his front pockets.

“You’re going to find more than my keys.” He tried to maneuver back, but all he managed to do was force Trish to lose her balance. With her hands still trapped in his jeans, she fell forward against him.

“Umph,” she said, her chin colliding with his chest, breasts giving softly against his lower ribs.

He put his hand on her back to steady her and forced himself to speak, even though every inch of him was aching with desire. “Trish, I can drive. I’m fine.”

“That’s what everyone says-then they plow into a utility pole.”

Maybe she had a point. Better to be safe than sorry. And he was having fun letting her fish around for his keys. He moved his hands to the bar, off of Trish, as she stood back up. “Alright, fine. You’re right. But it’s a moot point if neither of us can get the keys out.”

“I walk away for two minutes and she’s got her hands in your pants?” Joe cleared the empty water bottles from in front of them. “I’ve known her for four years and she’s never felt me up.”

Trish was on the move again, tickling his thigh as she pushed herself off him slowly.

“Shut up, Joe,” Caleb said, thinking the whole scene would be a hell of a lot more interesting if they were in private.

Then Trish moved like lightning, holding his keys up before dancing out of his reach. “Got them!”

While he knew she was right, and he no longer had any intention of driving, he still made a grab for her just for the fun of it. She shrieked and slipped out of his hold before he had more than a fistful of her silky dress.

“Damn, Trish, you’re like a greased pig.”

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She taunted him with the keys, dangling them in front of her, laughing.

Caleb hadn’t laughed with a woman in a long time. It felt good now, right, easy. He stood up to stalk her, back her against the bar, maybe accidentally stick his hands on various spots of her body until he came up with the keys.

She looked up at him, her grin disappearing in astonishment. “God, you’re huge. Even bigger than I thought when you were sitting down.”

Caleb was used to that reaction from women. He was a little broad and on the tall side, and while he was comfortable in his own skin, it had always made him a little nervous around women. Like he might knock them down by accident. He took a tentative step toward her, holding his hand out. “Give me the keys. I’ll ask Joe to drive my bike home for me.”

“What kind of prenatal vitamin was your mother on? You’re like a freak of nature,” Trish said, cocking her head a little.

That stopped him short. He grunted, though he was amused. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Trish laughed, not a girlish giggle or an obnoxious snort but a beautiful, rich sound, her teeth gleaming in the dark room, her hair framing a heart-shaped face. “You like reading fantasy novels, have a lizard and a Harley, are in touch with your emotions, and have a sense of humor, too. Very interesting.”

Not really, but his heart started a goddamn tap dance in his chest. She looked delicious standing there, rolling her ankles off her shoes, smelling like warm flesh and a subtle layer of sweet perfume.

“Keys, Trish.”

“I’ll drive the Harley and you can ride on the back.”

Clearly she thought he was shit-faced enough to agree to that, but there was no way in hell, drunk or sober, he was going to agree to let a woman drive his chopper.

No way.

Trish knew Caleb was nervous, given that gasping, choking sound he was making in the back of his throat, but she was confident as she straddled the motorcycle.

“You sure you know how to drive this?”

“I told you, I passed the test and everything. I’m a fully licensed motorcycle driver.” That had been in her early twenties when she had been in a retro-seventies phase, wearing mirrored sunglasses and listening to CDs by angry women. But she was sure she could handle the thing. And as an added bonus she wouldn’t need to use her Thighmaster the next day after squeezing her legs around the wide bike.