“My sense of adventure doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Pfft. Who needs to pay bills?”
Bash looked over at her margarita. “How many of those have you had?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Nine.”
He laughed. “You haven’t had nine.”
“They’re very strong. It feels like nine.” She had a good buzz going and was having a great time. Which was all that mattered.
“Tomorrow we’ll be bouncing around on ATVs. Not sure you want to be doing that with a hangover.”
She waved her hand at him. “I’m totally fine. And I’m a pro with ATVs.”
He arched a brow. “Really. I didn’t know that.”
“Trust me. You’ll be eating my dust tomorrow.”
“You mean sand?”
“Sure.”
He leaned forward. “I can’t wait.”
She’d never been on an ATV in her entire life. But she wasn’t about to tell Bash that. He could just think that maybe she’d been riding a time or two.
How hard could it be?
Chapter 33
Her head hurt. And she was dizzy.
Damn those margaritas. But she was dressed in her shorts, tank top, and tennis shoes and standing—or trying not to weave, anyway—while the instructor went over the operation of the ATV and the safety rules. She was glad she’d opted for several cups of coffee, followed by a few glasses of water to hydrate.
“Are you doing all right?” Molly asked.
She nodded. She was fine. Just … fine. After the instructor finished his safety speech, she looked over at Bash. “It’s really hot out here already.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s fine if you sit this one out.”
She lifted her chin. “No way. I’m pumped.”
He slanted her a look. “I don’t think you’re pumped. You look a little tired. Maybe hungover?”
“I am not hungover. I’m very excited about riding.”
He grabbed her hand. “Seriously, Chelsea. You have nothing to prove. You don’t have to ride.”
She put on her helmet. “Let’s do this.”
He shook his head. “Okay. But if you want to stop, signal me and we’ll come back, okay?”
She wasn’t listening. She headed over to her machine and stared at it for a few minutes, trying to remember all the things the instructor had said about safety and operation. Finally, she climbed aboard, familiarized herself with the gears, and started her engine.
She’d show Bash she was just as equipped to run this beast as he was.
Though she waited for the others to get started. They weren’t the only ones in the group—there were several other people going on this ride today as well. Maybe she’d just hang back. Like … way back.
Except Bash roared over to her, stopping his ATV next to hers.
“Ready?” he asked.
Obviously there’d be no hanging back for her.
“Sure.”
“Good. You know what you’re doing, or do you need me to help you?”
“I’ve got it.” She pushed the throttle, her heart leaping into her throat as the ATV jumped forward.
“Easy,” Bash said. “Just give it a little. It might take you a while to get the feel of it.”
No kidding. She was fine in a car. This machine, however, was something totally different. She did as Bash suggested, and the ATV lurched forward.
Nausea bubbled around in her stomach. She was not going to enjoy this.
“I’ll take the lead. You follow. But don’t worry. I’ll keep checking on you, okay?”
She nodded and moved forward. Slowly. Feeling totally out of her element and utterly out of control. But she was at least making progress. Slow as hell progress, but she had left the parking area, so there was that.
It took a while, but she finally made her way to the dunes.
It was crazy there, with sand flying in the air and machines leaping over the dunes.
No way she was going to do that. Then again, there were teenagers on some of the ATVs. If they could do it, so could she, right?
Bash made a spinning turn and slid his way to her side. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine. You go ahead.”
“No. I’ll stay here with you.”
“Bash. I’m really getting the hang of this. Besides, our guide dude is behind me. I’m okay.”
Bash looked over at the guide, then back at her. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Go have some fun.”
He smiled. “No, I’m going to hang here with you.”
This could possibly be the most boring day of his life. But he’d made his decision. She plodded along at a very slow pace, Bash beside her, the guide following her.
They were both so patient, Bash telling her she was doing well. Their guide was so bored back here with her he probably had a whiskey flask tucked in his pocket and would likely be dead drunk before they got back.
She felt like an idiot. A terrified idiot. And she was certain the guide cringed every time she hit the brakes, which was a lot.
“You’re doing great, Chelsea,” Bash said.
She didn’t believe him, but she appreciated the pep talk.
When she came to one of the dunes, she almost slammed on the brakes, but she remembered the guide telling them to ride over them and not to hit the brakes sharply, so she gritted her teeth and rode over the dune. Her butt came off the seat and she held tight to the grips, certain she was going to fly right over the handlebars and die a flaming, painful death in the sand.