19
They rode through an unfamiliar part of the city. Darkness had fallen by the time they rode past a scruffy neighborhood, bare trees lining the road. Halfway down a sloping street, he stopped along the edge of the sidewalk and gestured for her to hop off. She shook as the wind whipped around the thin flannel of her ducky pajama pants. Rolling onto the sidewalk, he expertly guided his bike past a set of crenellated iron gates. Once the motor was off, he strode up the stoop where she waited, unlocked the house, and ushered her in.
Greta gulped warm air into her shivering body and her shoulders dropped in relief. Cutter came in behind her and hugged her close. Then he turned her around and gently tugged off her riding gloves. Riding in upstate New York, in pajamas no less, was not for the
