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and gravel, my heart was a beating mess in my chest. I mean, for places to take a girl on her first time out with a guy, this was cause for high suspicion. We were so far out of town that I doubted anyone would hear me scream, if say, Austin turned out to be a psychopath.
    When the engine died at the flick of Austin’s wrist, I scooted back on the bike before wiggling down from the seat. I tugged the helmet from my head. “This isn’t the place you take all the girls you woo and kill, is it?”
    The surprise that fluttered through his expression encouraged a low giggle to erupt into the silence between us and I blushed.
    “If the idea makes you laugh like that—sure.”
    I held my stomach, trying to quiet my growing laughter at the bemused bewilderment in his tone. God, he was stunning when he was curious.
    Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Austin was stunning all the damn time. He was eccentric and thought provoking and beautiful. But, he wasn’t beautiful in the way most of society would define the word. Austin was beautiful in that undercurrent way. He had all the features that would make up a beautiful man, what with his strong cheekbones, granite jaw, and piercing blue eyes. Even his body was deliciously sizeable. I mean, every time I looked at him, I had an odd urge to move closer. Something about him was safe.
    Although, it definitely wasn’t his appearance.
    Because apart from all those deeply residing beautiful features, Austin was different. Almost every inch of visible skin was covered in tattoos and he even had an eyebrow piercing. His hair was long, falling across his forehead in thick almost black strands. Some would say all this marred his societal beauty. I disagreed.
    Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I laughed again. He was looking at me now with something more than curiosity. I think it’s because he’d caught me studying him so fiercely.
    This made me laugh harder—this time out of nerves.
    “Are you okay?”
    “I’m laughing,” I explained between breaths. “At you.”
    “Happy to be the source of your joy,” he saluted. The action was a gallant kind of cheesy that had my heart fluttering. “But, why exactly are you laughing at me?”
    “I caught you off guard,” I schooled my laughter, but just barely. There was no way I was admitting to the true source of my continued mirth—which was due to the fact that I found this creature oddly beautiful in spite of what society had always taught me to believe beauty was. “I honestly didn’t think that was possible.”
    “You basically just accused me of being a psychopath.”
    I nodded because this was true. “What do you expect a girl to think when the man she knows nothing about has taken her into the deep wilderness?”
    “We’re twenty minutes tops out of town,” he said. His eyes glimmered with humor. “Wouldn’t call that the deep wilderness, fancy pants.”
    I straightened. “You did not just call me fancy pants! What are you, from the nineteen-thirties?”
    “Did women wear pants in the nineteen-thirties?” He feigned a puzzled expression and I rolled my eyes.
    “I think I’ll stick with sweetheart, thank you.” I blushed. “You can ditch the fancy pants.”
    He cocked his head taking a slow step toward me. My heart lurched. “You like it when I call you sweetheart?”
    “Over fancy pants?” I asked breathlessly. “Definitely.”
    “All right then, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly. And oh, the wicked things it did to me. “What do you say we take a hike down to the river?”
    I raised a brow, still trying to find stable ground to walk on with my rioting heart. “Uh, can I trust you not to be the psychopath I’m kinda fearing?”
    “Definitely,” he held out his tattoo covered hand and I felt my eyes lock on it. For a moment, I hesitated. I knew he sensed it because he spoke softly, as though he were cooing trust from a wounded animal. “I promise, Madison, you can trust me.”
    “You’ll never hurt me?”