Donovan Castle Chronicles: Volume 1

Chapter 38: Jake

CHAPTER 38

JAKE PANTHERA ONCA

In this: Jake, Nadia, Georgia,

*Day 3

*Spring (April 30)

*Night

I grab the check and pay the bill. Nadia gets up and takes my hand, laying her head on my shoulder. I open the door for her, causing the bell to ring, and let her walk through first.

We enter the parking lot of Ole Griffin. I hand her helmet to her before putting on mine. "Safety first."

"Thank you, Jake."

"Always gotta protect that noggin!" I tap her on the head playfully, causing her to laugh. I watch as she struggles to place the helmet on. The ponytail getting in the way. "Need help?"

Nodding, she hands the helmet to me.

"May I?" I ask as I gesture to her ponytail.

"Sure."

I place the helmet on my motorcycle seat, while mine dangles from the handlebar. Turning back to face her, I spin her around so her back is facing me. I reach up and cradle her head for a brief moment.

With nimble fingers, I carefully undo the band and pull it from her hair. Reaching up, I cradle her head before gently running my fingers through her silky, pitch-black hair. "There we go."

She turns in my arms, smiling up at me as she reaches for the helmet.

Placing it on her head, I slowly snap the band as we maintain eye contact. "Done."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," I say, putting on my own helmet. Climbing on the cycle and placing my foot on the petal, I grasp the handlebars as she climbs on behind me. Nadia wraps her arms tightly around my waist, sending a thrill through me. "Hold on tight, kitty cat." I hit the pedal and the engine starts with a roar.

Since night has now descended on Dragon's Hollow, the antique lampposts have lit up the streets in a warm, amber glow.

On our drive through town, we pass little shops with cute boutique signs. The signs either hang from above the doors, protrude outward, dangle from a metal rod, or lie flat up against the front of the buildings.

They range from bakeries such as the Sweet Dreams Bakery to an arms dealer shop called Foxfire Arms, before we reach an antique shop called Cherished Memories.

I park the motorcycle by the curb of Cherished Memories and hang our helmets on the handlebars.

The exterior of the shop looks warm and inviting. The front of the business is made of red brick with protruding bay windows jutting out on both sides of the entry. Cherished Memories is sprawled in old-fashioned font across both windows of the store.

Lace curtains hang from the top of each window, drawing your eye downward toward the antique white iron park benches sitting before each window. Light from within draws your attention inward, the night further making that apparent.

Nadia rushes across the sidewalk and toward the entrance. She swings the door open, a jingle tinkling with the motion. She stops and looks over her shoulder at me. "Coming?"

I laugh and hasten my pace. As we enter the store, the smell of aged wood and fabric bombards my senses.

Apparently, Nadia notices too by the way she crinkles her nose. It's adorable. Her eyes widen as she suddenly spots a large plush sofa in the far corner. When we reach the sofa, she sits in the middle of it and relaxes, letting out a contented sigh.