Page 13 of Single Mom for the Bikers

The urge to snap: Because I said so, is strong, but I push it down. “We can’t go for ice cream if we don’t get cleaned up.”

“With rainbows? Two scoops?”

“One scoop, but you can get all the rainbow sprinkles you want. Your pink pants are on your bed. Put those on and wash your hands, I’ll come check in a minute.”

She wrinkles her nose a little but apparently my bribe is successful because she pulls open the screen door and stomps inside. Her footsteps make it sound like she’s ten times bigger than she is, which is a type of magic I’ll never figure out.

The bike, a slick, classic style covered in chrome that gleams in the sun, pulls into the driveway and stops next to my ancient Honda Civic. It’s blue with silver detailing, and I’m pretty sure if I get closer, the figure painted on the main body would be detailed enough for a medical textbook entry labeled “Pinup girl”. But it’s not the naked lady on his bike that I’m focused on, it’s the rider.

Havoc.

He kicks down the stand with his boot and leans back, watching me with a look in his eyes that I’ve seen on men before, but never like this. And never from him. I’m not quite sure what to do with it.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. They’re my oldest, rattiest pair. The ones that always hugged my hips just right and I couldn’t quite bear to let go when they stopped being presentable. From a distance though, they might look fashionably distressed, my front pocket peeking out through a rip across my thigh, and flashes of skin peeking out here and there all down the legs. On top, I’m wearing a sports bra under an old concert t-shirt I cut into a tank top last summer. There’s nothing fancy about any of it, but I can tell he likes what he sees.

“H—hey,” I stammer, heading barefoot across the grass to him. “What are you doing here? I didn’t figure I’d see you again.”

He grins and the spell is broken. It’s just Havoc, even if he’s turned into a drop dead sexy man who’s only grown better with age. He’s filled out and added a few tattoos along the way, but most of all he just looks more comfortable in his own skin, like he knows who he is and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what the rest of the world might think of him.

What does he think of me?

When he and Sledge came to pick up Phoenix, there wasn’t really time to deal with seeing him again and how that made me feel. Now I’m struggling to remember that I’m not the same stupid teenager he knew, lying about my age and acting like I belonged when I was still barely more than a child. I’m not her anymore, I’m a grown woman with a kid who’ll be starting school in a year.

Under his leather cut, he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up on his forearms, ink peeking out from one side and curling down onto his hand on the other. Dark jeans hug his thighs. “I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing. Make sure nothing else has happened around here. If it’s not safe, I’ll figure out somewhere else for you and Mia.” He frowns. “The club owes you for taking care of Phoenix the other night. I thought putting you out here made sense, but now I don’t like the idea of you and your kid all alone outside our territory.”

“We’re fine, Havoc. Look around. Unless you lock us away in a gated community, this is as safe as it’s going to get. Stuff happens everywhere.”

He swings his leg over the bike and closes the distance between us. I’m not a small girl, but he and his friends have such a strong physical presence that it makes me feel petite in comparison. “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. How are you really doing?”

“I’m good. Cleaning isn’t my dream job, but it’s flexible and pays the bills. Mia has a sitter that she loves. We’re good.”

“But you don’t have a man to watch out for you.” It’s phrased as a statement but I can hear the question.

I shake my head. “Haven’t needed one so far. They seem like more trouble than they’re worth.”

Havoc chuckles. “Then you’re picking the wrong ones.” He’s joking, I know he’s joking, but I can’t hold back the flinch and he sees it straight off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean?—”

“No, you’re right. Dodger gave me Mia, so there must’ve been something good in him at some point, but he sure hid it well, didn’t he?”

“Does she know?”

I hesitate. It’s a loaded question. “She doesn’t remember him if that’s what you mean. He only saw her a couple times before… it went really bad, and I have a few pictures that I’ll show her when she’s older if she wants. Mostly she just knows her dad did some bad things and went to jail, and even though I tried not to let it affect her, she sensed that he made me and Mom scared and unhappy. I told her when he died, and we did a little prayer ceremony together, but she was so little and he wasn’t in our lives so I think she was only sad because she could tell it was a sad thing.”

Havoc growls. “I fucking hate how everything played out. You fucking deserved better.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? It’s done,” I say with a resigned shrug. “We were both young and stupid. Except I got smarter and he’ll never have the chance to say the same.”

A better person would mourn that fact, but I’ll leave that to whoever else might remember him. If you ask me, Dodger’s potential lost the right to be mourned when he orchestrated the attack that left my mother traumatized and Dan, my step-father dead. It was only luck that Mia and I weren’t at home when he showed up drunk at our door with a crew from the Pit Vipers, demanding that I go back with him. Not because he actually wanted to step up, but because he got it in his head that we were his and me running away made him look weak.

“Mooooooom,” Mia yells from inside.

Crap, I forgot she was waiting on me. “I’ll be right there. Sorry, I promised her we would go get ice cream after I was done in the garden.”

“Sounds great. I’ll come with,” Havoc says with a boyish grin that somehow still fits him in spite of looking like the kind of man most people would cross the road to avoid.

“Really?”

“Moooooooooooom!”

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