Page 6 of Biker Daddy

“Of course.”

“Addi?”

“Yes?”

“There’s a man living at the camp. He’s been with your uncle for years. They were very close.”

“Oh.” The emotional stupor that came from to-do list-making spread from her chest outward, sweeping away the torrent of grief that had been building inside her and allowing her to remain calm and reasonable. How hadn’t she known her uncle was gay? She’d been friends with Daniel and Steven for over five years and Uncle Ray knew that. Why hadn’t he told her? She could add ‘console Ray’s boyfriend’ to her to-do list. “Okay.”

“I just didn’t want you to be startled.”

“Of course, thank you.” Calm, cool, and apathetic.

“Call me when you’re ready to set up a meeting to discuss the estate. There are things we need to deal with after you put him to rest. At your uncle’s request, I delivered a letter for you and one for his friend to the camp. You’ll find yours in the office desk. Please travel safe, Addi, and if you have any questions in the meantime…”

“Yes, okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Turner. I’ll leave right away.”

And she did. Nothing could have stopped her. Not her fear of flying, not her article that was due on the quaint B&B in cottage country, not even her urge to curl in a ball and weep until she was an empty shell. Uncle Ray had always been there for her when she needed him and she’d be there for him now.

Her chest fluttered and her eyes blurred before she blinked them clear. Oh, Uncle Ray. The flutter turned to pain and she kneaded a fist between her breasts to ease it.

Addi glanced at the cabins scattered along the edge of the forest across from the clearing and the mess hall, office, and showers. There was one cabin in the front though, that her eyes stuck on longer than the others.

It was painted a sunny yellow with blue gingerbread trim, and it had been built just for her. Addi’s special place,her uncle had called it. The purple and pink clematis still climbed up the side of the adorable little cabin, only now fuller and more mature.

Uncle Ray had planted the climbing flowers her second day there. He’d wanted her to feel at home. Now, seeing all the work he’d done to make it a home away from home for her brought on more grief. He’d been the only one who ever did things for her.

No siblings.

A dead mother.

A flake of a father.

And now no Uncle Ray.

She was completely alone in the world.

Overwhelming loneliness crowded her lungs and she began hyperventilating.

The roar of a motorcycle assaulted her ears and further increased her anxiety as she searched the car for the empty brown pastry bag she knew was somewhere. She’d hated motorcycles ever since Drew’s biker club had stormed the camp and left it a smoldering mess.

Seeing the paper bag, she lunged for it, crinkled the end, and started breathing into it. In, out, in, out.

In her rearview mirror, a bike kicked up dust along the driveway. It slowed but didn’t stop as it came up behind her. The rider, all in black, leaned to the side and went around her car. She watched the bearded man, wearing one of those half cap helmets with an airbrushed skeleton playing a guitar on the side, slide past her. His mirrored sunglasses covered his eyes, but his grim mouth, framed by a wild beard, said it all. He wasn’t a friendly man.

How many unfriendly bikers were there in this town?

Addi’s eyes narrowed. How dare he look at her with that flat, hard-lined mouth. She lowered the bag and pulled her car over to park in a spot with a sign that read Anglers Parking Only. Her uncle’s spot.

The bearded man killed the engine on his bike right where he was.

She tugged her coral-colored sun hat on her head and slid on her big sunglasses, but before she could unbuckle and open the door, the biker was at her window. His brow creased as he eyed her—not that she could see his eyes behind his mirrored sunglasses, but she felt it. It was probably the cream silk blouse and flowered skirt that threw him off. He’d probably never seen a woman dressed in anything other than short-shorts and tank tops before.

She flicked her long hair off her shoulder and narrowed her eyes right back at him. His mouth tightened further and his jaw clenched.

“Goddammit, didn’t I already tell you? I’m not doing the fucking interview. Get the hell off this property.” His voice was low, deep, and raspy enough to send a shiver down her spine. She clicked the seatbelt open quickly and was about to climb out but as he pulled off his helmet, she froze.

He was the same brooding, ruggedly handsome man from the bar. His scraggly beard begged for a trimmer, or at least a comb, but suited him more that way than she cared to admit. It only enhanced his sexiness.

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