Page 1 of Her Possessive Bikers

1

INDY

The steering wheel sticks to my palms as I guide my beat-up Jeep down Highway 65. Three back-to-back shifts have left my uniform clinging to my skin, and the Alabama sun's already cooking the asphalt despite the early hour. Even with all four windows down, the air hitting my face feels like it's coming straight from a furnace.

My phone buzzes in the cup holder, and I tap the screen to answer through the Bluetooth.

"How was your shift?" My best friend Millie's voice fills the car. She's coming off her own fourteen-hour shift at Birmingham General.

"Two cardiac arrests, one drug overdose, and a guy who thought it'd be fun to try parkour off his garage roof." I drum my fingers on the wheel. "You know, the usual."

"I still think you could've been a kick ass nurse. Much safer, better hours-"

"Millie." I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the rearview mirror - dark circles under my eyes, hair escaping from what used to be a neat bun fourteen hours ago. "We've been over this. I need something with more-"

"Gore? Action? Like Daddy Brick has?"

A gag reflex hits the back of my throat. "For the hundredth time, stop calling my father hot. It's disturbing on so many levels."

"What? Those leather-clad arms, that salt and pepper beard-"

"I'm hanging up now." My thumb hovers over the end call button.

"Fine, fine." Millie's laugh echoes through the speakers. "But seriously, you'd make a great nurse. Your bedside manner's already better than half the staff at Birmingham General."

I switch lanes, passing a truck hauling lumber. "And spend my days watching doctors take all the credit? No thanks. Besides..." My voice trails off as I spot a faded Luci's Syndicate tag spray-painted on an overpass. "You know how nurses gossip. One background check and they'd be whispering about the biker's daughter playing dress-up in scrubs."

"That's ridiculous. You're one of the best medics in the county."

"Tell that to Karen in HR who nearly had an aneurysm when she saw my father's occupation on my paramedic application." The memory makes my jaw clench. "At least out here, racing through traffic with sirens blaring, nobody cares who my daddy is. They just care that I'm good at my job."

"Which you are."

"Exactly." I turn onto my exit. "And I get to save lives without dealing with hospital politics or judgmental coworkers side-eyeing my tattoos. Win-win."

"Speaking of winning, you're coming to trivia night tomorrow, right? The new bartender's totally your type."

The tension in my shoulders eases. "Let me guess - tattoos, motorcycle, and daddy issues?"

"Hey, you said it, not me."

I pull into the familiar parking lot, my car almost like it's on autopilot.

"I'll think about it, right now I'm just concerned with putting some food in my mouth and getting my ass home to get some sleep."

"Amateur," she says. I can almost see her eye roll through the phone.

I pry the door open, the familiar squeak of the hinges sounding about as worn for wear as I am.

"Just call me later, I'll see if I get enough beauty sleep for the occasion."

"Whatever, bye," she says through the line.

"Love you too miss congeniality," I reply and pocket my phone.

The bell chimes as I push open the door to Mae's Diner, the aroma of coffee and bacon wrapping around me like a familiar hug. My boots squeak against the checkered linoleum floor as I slide into my usual booth by the window. The vinyl seat's cracked in the same places it was yesterday, and the day before that, and probably since before I was born.

"You're a lifesaver." Mae appears with a steaming coffee pot, her silver hair pulled back in its usual neat bun. "Rough shift?"

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