The Ride of Her Life

By Natasha Moore

After a devastating diagnosis, sensible Sarah Austin yearns to live life to the fullest. When she talks her former teenage crush into a cross-country ride on his Harley, she thinks it's her one and only chance for adventure, including a fun fling with Love 'em and Leave 'em Bastian.

No longer a rebel, Dean Bastian is now a counselor for troubled teens and ready to settle down. He doesn't know why Sarah is so desperate for an adventure, but he's willing to do anything to keep a smile on her face, even pretend to still be a bad boy.

Sarah doesn't want to burden anyone with the future she faces, but can Dean convince her that the rest of their life can be an adventure…together?

This is a standalone novel and was previously published. Winner of the New England Reader's Choice Award for best short contemporary romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasha Moore
• Release date: May 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386400165

Book preview

The Ride of Her Life

After a devastating diagnosis, sensible Sarah Austin yearns to live life to the fullest. When she talks her former teenage crush into a cross-country ride on his Harley, she thinks it’s her one and only chance for adventure, including a fun fling with Love ‘em and Leave ‘em Bastian.

No longer a rebel, Dean Bastian is now a counselor for troubled teens and ready to settle down. He doesn’t know why Sarah is so desperate for an adventure, but he’s willing to do anything to keep a smile on her face, even pretend to still be a bad boy.

Sarah doesn’t want to burden anyone with the future she faces, but can Dean convince her that the rest of their life can be an adventure...together?

DEDICATION

To Rhonda, who helped me so much on this story and became a good friend in the process.

To Juliet, for the perfect title.

To the man in my life, you truly are my inspiration.

Chapter One

The day Dean Bastian walked into the bank was the day Sarah decided she was no longer going to be sensible.

But, to be honest, when it came to Dean, she’d never had a bit of sense. Seeing him again after all these years sent her right back to that gawky teenager who’d had a major crush on the bad boy next door.

Dean looked the same as she remembered, tall and dark in his black T-shirt and faded jeans. He crossed the lobby, his long legs covering the distance quickly. When she saw he was headed for her window, an unwanted thrill rippled across her skin. Her heart started beating faster and annoyance fought its way to the surface. She hated not being in control of her feelings.

There was enough she didn’t have control of these days. Like doctors and hospitals and test results.

He set his motorcycle helmet on the counter in front of him and flashed a cocky smile that turned her knees to jelly. Oh, great, she was going to melt into a puddle of goo right in front of him. His dark blue eyes were laced with mockery as he slowly ran his gaze over her.

Sarah Austin, still sitting in your little cage, I see.

She couldn’t stop from blushing, but she wanted to cringe as the heat spread up her neck and across her face. She gritted her teeth at the jibe and struggled to get back in control.

Hello, Dean. She struggled to keep her smile in place. I understand you’re skipping town again.

Heading out on the Harley in the morning.

The little jab of envy didn’t help her mood at all. What she wouldn’t give to be going somewhere, anywhere but where her life was headed right now.

Then she remembered why he was in Buffalo to begin with and regretted taking her bad mood out on him. I’m real sorry about your dad.

Dean nodded, the diamond stud in his ear winking at her. The cocky smile disappeared and his eyes shut down. She almost wished he was still teasing her. He didn’t say anything, but Sarah wasn’t surprised. She knew he and his father hadn’t gotten along.

Is Terry still in town? she asked.

She flew back to Denver yesterday. His face didn’t tell her anything. She hoped he and his sister had settled their differences.

She stopped in the bank for a minute the other day and I saw some pictures of her family. Her boys are cute.

Yeah, they are.

She works in a doctor’s office?

Yeah.

Sarah was running out of small talk. For two people who’d grown up in the same neighborhood, on the same street for goodness sake, they couldn’t have been more different. The annoying heart pounding didn’t help any. And neither did the sweaty palms she rubbed on her skirt. Twenty-six was too old to still suffer from hopeless crush symptoms.

She pushed away an old memory of him wiping away her tears. What can I do for you this morning?

He picked up the helmet and smoothly tucked it under his arm. I need to sign a few more papers before I leave. Is Harry Larson busy?

I’ll check. She picked up the interoffice telephone and called Harry, who told her to send Dean over. She pointed to the open office door across the lobby. Go right in.

He looked her over once more. Ripples of hot awareness followed his gaze and she prayed she wouldn’t blush again. Good to see you, Sarah, he said softly, then turned and walked away.

She watched him go with a sense of relief. Sarah knew exactly why he bothered her. It wasn’t the dangerous way he looked. He had always been sexy in a rough sort of way. She didn’t even mind the dark hair that fell past his shoulders. It went with that rebel look he projected so well and most likely contributed to that crush she had. Correction, used to have.

No, what aggravated her was more what Dean represented. Freedom she had never known. Never would know.

I’m glad he’s gone, Jennifer, the teller next to her, said in a low voice. He always scares me.

Don’t let him frighten you, Sarah said. He’s really not a bad guy.

Jennifer didn’t look convinced. Yeah, right.

Sarah had never been scared of Dean. He had fueled her teenage dreams and proved he could set her heart pounding even now. Still, she could understand Jennifer’s reaction. Dean had always been the kind of guy mothers warned their daughters about.

Sarah could see Dean through the open doorway to Harry’s office. He was perched on the edge of the seat, poised to escape at the first opportunity. Dean Bastian would never get caught in a cage.

Sarah sighed. Can you believe people actually live like that?

Like what? Jennifer asked.

Sarah nodded in Dean’s direction. I guarantee you that’s one person who isn’t tied down to a desk, doing the same old thing day after day. He doesn’t let life just sweep him along. He probably has experiences. And adventures. Sarah leaned against her cash drawer. What I wouldn’t give for an adventure.

Come on, Sarah. Get real. We’re not kids anymore.

But I never had any adventures, Sarah said softly, the emptiness of her life overwhelming her.

I heard he’s going back to L.A., Jennifer said. He’s joining back up with the road crew for Aerosmith, if you can believe my oldest son.

Sarah nodded. Dean had been all over the country, all over the world probably. What was it like to see new places? To wake up to new sights and new people every day of the week? He told me he was leaving tomorrow.

There you go, Jennifer said. Good riddance, I say.

Sarah didn’t say anything. She stared at Dean, at the motorcycle helmet sitting on his knee. She shook her hands, trying to get rid of the pins and needles feeling that never really went away.

Are you okay? Jennifer asked.

Would she ever be okay again?

Since her last doctor’s appointment, Sarah had started to look at life differently. Suddenly what had seemed important didn’t matter much anymore. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She didn’t even want to think about it.

Sarah nodded at Jennifer. I’m fine. My car died today. It wasn’t the real reason for her distress, but true all the same. Her ancient, sensible Escort gave up the ghost in her driveway this morning. Now, on top of everything else, she had to shop for a new car before she could even think about going anywhere.

But as Sarah continued to look at Dean, a plan began to form in her mind. It was a crazy plan, definitely not sensible at all. But one that gave her hope where there had been none a few minutes ago. Before she could give herself time to change her mind, Sarah locked up her drawer and strode into the manager’s office.

She wasn’t going to let life cheat her out of her one chance for adventure.

DEAN COULDN’T RELAX when he got back from the bank. He crossed the dreary living room of the house he grew up in, went down the empty hallway, into the cheerless kitchen. The scarred furniture still took up space, the pictures of him and Terry when they were kids hung on the walls as they always had. But the people were gone. It wasn’t home anymore.

Hell, it hadn’t been home in a whole lot of years.

He opened the refrigerator and took out the six-pack of root beer from the otherwise empty interior. He was glad to be getting out of here. He hoped the house sold quickly. Too many memories, good and bad, were wrapped up in it.

Like the first time he rode his bike down the driveway. And the first time his dad threw him down the stairs.

Yeah, Dean was more than ready to leave this place behind.

As he wandered restlessly around the house, he could still see his mother sitting in the rocker by the good light before the cancer took her, knitting another sweater none of them wanted to wear. He and Terry always pleaded for stylish clothes like the other kids wore, but their father would grumble that they were ungrateful and tell them he wasn’t going to spend good money on something their mother could make them for almost nothing.

Dean dropped onto the lumpy sofa and opened a bottle. Why did a trip home instantly throw you back to where you’d been before? Suddenly he felt like that rebellious kid he used to be, ready to take on the world all by himself and scared to death at the same time.

He had a good life now in Denver and a job he loved. Things were going okay. Better than he’d ever hoped. He hadn’t turned out like his father, no matter what the old man had predicted.

Dean jumped up from the sofa and paced around the house again, unable to sit still. Memories of the past kept tangling up with his thoughts of the future. Where did he go from here? Or rather, when he got back to Denver? What did he do with the rest of his life? He’d been feeling more and more restless lately and this trip down memory lane wasn’t helping.

He’d finished the second bottle when he heard a knock at the door. Probably another one of the neighbors offering their condolences. He sighed and opened the door.

Sarah Austin stood before him. He’d forgotten how short she was, probably only about five-foot-one or so to his six feet. Her blonde hair was shiny and smooth and fell to her shoulders. Dean remembered when it used to hang to her waist in braids. She hid whatever shape she now had under a baggy denim jumper.

He could still picture her as a skinny kid trying to fight off the bullies in their neighborhood who liked to pick on the small and brainy. Somehow it had fallen upon Dean to be her protector. He’d pretended it annoyed the hell out of him, but in truth, he had never minded. Something about Sarah had always made him want to be there for her.

He couldn’t quite decipher the expression on her face at the moment. Determination, maybe, and that made him a little uneasy. But she looked nervous too. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

Come to think of it, he was never quite sure how he felt around Sarah.

Hello again, he said. Late lunch hour?

Um, not exactly. She looked up at him, chewing on her bottom lip. He’d forgotten how big her brown eyes were. I need to talk to you.

He didn’t like the sound of it already. Okay. Do you want to come in?

Sarah nodded, and took a deep breath, as if she had to work herself up to walk through the door. Or maybe it was talking to him that she had to build up the courage for. Whatever it was, she followed him into the living room.

He picked up one of the brown bottles of root beer sitting on the coffee table. Thirsty?

No, thanks, she said quickly. Then she frowned and held out her hand. I mean, sure. Thanks.

She stood there in the middle of the living room looking as if she had no idea what she was doing there. She didn’t say anything right away. She twisted the cap off the bottle and took a tentative taste. She looked up at him with surprise, obviously expecting beer instead of soda.

He didn’t tell her he’d had enough of the real thing back when he was young and stupid. When he’d finally had one too many hangovers and realized he would fulfill his father’s prediction if he kept on the way he was going, Dean switched from bottles of Bud to IBC.

She still didn’t speak, simply stared at the bottle in her hand. He scratched his head as she remained quiet. Didn’t she want to talk? Sarah, what is it?

Sarah took another swallow, then cleared her throat. She looked up at him with those big eyes, took a deep breath and blurted, Take me with you.

Dean wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. What?

You’re leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, right?

Where did you hear that?

From Jennifer Krusick’s son. I want to go with you.

Sarah, I don’t understand. If you want to go to California, you can drive there yourself. You don’t want to ride on my bike.

Yes, I do. Anyway, my car died this morning.

Take a plane. It’s a lot quicker too.

I don’t want quicker. I want interesting. I want exciting.

Heaven help him. Sarah Austin wanted excitement. By the time we get to L.A. on my bike, your whole vacation will be gone.

I have a lot of vacation time saved up.

This is crazy.

She laughed, but it wasn’t a light, happy sound. I know. Please take me to L.A.

He frowned. There was desperation in her face, in her voice, and he didn’t understand it. Why do you want to go to California?

She took a step closer to him. He could smell a light, flowery scent, probably from her hair. The shiny strands looked so soft he almost reached out to touch them before he caught himself and pulled his hand back. He stepped away before he could try it again.

It doesn’t matter why I want to go. Determination rose in her voice. I’ll pay for everything. All the gas. The food. The lodging. Everything.

Sarah? He stepped closer again, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He must have been allergic to that scent she wore because he felt a little dizzy, a little off-center around her. Are you in some kind of trouble?

Some emotion he couldn’t identify flashed in her eyes. If you won’t take me, I’ll hitchhike.

Be serious.

I’m perfectly serious.

Sarah, be sensible about this.

She started to shake and her face turned as red as it had this morning, but Dean could tell the difference between embarrassment and anger. This time he’d ticked her off royally.

But damn if she didn’t look fine. This was not the meek and mild little Sarah he remembered sitting on her front porch with her nose in a book. This Sarah was vibrant and alive. Her eyes sparkled. Her skin glowed.

He wanted to know more about her. What had she been doing all these years? What was going on with her now?

He wanted to give in to the crazy urge to pull her into his arms and discover what her body felt like beneath the baggy clothes. He wanted to kiss her and find out what her passion tasted like.

As he entertained his lustful thoughts, he saw Sarah pull herself together. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she relaxed