She ended the call and hurried to the door, excited to see Diesel. When she pulled it open, Diesel dragged those sexy eyes down the length of her, heating her from head to toe, and in one quick sweep of his arm, he lifted her off her feet, holding them chest to chest as he kissed her.

“Ready to go for a ride, baby girl?”

She didn’t even know where they were going, and she didn’t care. She’d be wrapped around Diesel, and that was the most glorious feeling in the world. “Am I ever.”

DIESEL WAS IN paradise. There was no better feeling than cruising the open road with his girl at his back, the sun on his skin, and for the first time in years, happiness in his heart. If they didn’t have commitments, he’d keep driving straight out of the state, take her someplace far away for the night, then climb on his bike tomorrow morning to do it again, and the day after that, and every day thereafter until she’d seen the whole damn world.

But they had commitments, and an hour into the ride, he pulled off the highway, heading for Cleary Farms, the first of the gardens he’d found online and mapped out for their ride. He wound through rural roads to the crest of a hill, where acres of vibrant sunflowers came into view. Tracey held him tighter, but he felt her chest lift off his back, her excitement crackling around them as he cruised down the hill and turned into the entrance. He’d called the manager of the farm to arrange their visit, as he had with each of the other places he was taking her today. Following the instructions he’d been given, he turned off the driveway, down a narrow dirt road that ran between two sunflower fields, and followed it up a hill and around a bend, driving slow so Tracey could enjoy the view.

After leaving Cleary, he got back on the highway and headed to Burton’s Gardens in the next town over, where they drove along the service path, winding through fifty acres of burgeoning blooms and flowering trees. He drove slowly, letting Tracey bask in the beauty of the flowers. When they finally headed back to the highway, visiting the next garden, and the next, making their way through each one, Tracey held him tighter. He could feel her adrenaline as if it were his own.

McKinley Gardens was the halfway mark on his list. He drove down the service path, bordered by more colorful gardens, followed it up to a small group of pink and white flowering dogwood trees, and parked beneath them. Diesel couldn’t remember ever being as excited about flowers as he was at that moment. He climbed off the bike and turned to help Tracey, but she was already tugging off her helmet and scrambling off the bike.