Page 12 of Biker Daddy

She realized after she said it, it was a stupid question. She’d basically just given herself away. Now he knew she remembered him.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at her intensely as if he was reading her mind. Her gut dipped and she changed the subject, looking back at the fish—this time at the lone one swimming, unbeknownst to the danger it was in.

“How was he, Drew? This last little while.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was filled with emotion.

“Aw, baby girl.” He was about to come to her again when she straightened, clearing the emotion from her throat.

“Can you give me a minute to change? I want to go see him now.” She went and grabbed one of her bags.

Drew nodded, hid his soft expression under hard features, and left.

“I’ll be back to get you in ten minutes. I can’t go dressed like this.” He picked up the other bag. “Wear a jacket. It gets cool on the bike.” Before she could protest, his boots clomped loudly off the porch. “I’m taking this bag to your cabin.”

She swore under her breath. The hell if she was getting on his bike. She started sweating at the thought alone. She could find her way to the funeral home—in her nice, fully loaded, five-star safety awarded car.

She washed up in the little bathroom, wondering how on earth Drew had ended up back with her uncle after what he’d done to the camp. Her uncle was forgiving but that was crazy! Drew had destroyed it with his biker friends.

After getting dressed in a pair of capri jeans with embroidered flowers down the legs and a pink, lace-trimmed peasant top, she looked through Uncle Ray’s cabinets. She wanted a few crackers to put in her belly, but there was nothing like that in her uncle’s cupboards. There were cans of baked beans and soup, and some hotdogs in the fridge but not much else.

She was just sneering at the outdated package of hotdogs with green fuzz growing in the corner when Drew knocked.

“Come in,” she hollered. Swallowing hard, she tossed the hotdogs back in the fridge.

“You ready?” She turned, still holding the fridge door open to see him standing at the door with a helmet in one big hand and his leather jacket in the other. He looked good. His hair was wet and combed, although still a little wild with natural waves, and his beard was tidier too. The bleach-white t-shirt was a contrast to his dark hair, tanned skin, and piercing blue eyes. She looked at the tattoos he wore like sleeves up his arms again. He cleared his throat so she stopped gawking and he pointed at the fridge.

“You hungry? Ray doesn’t have much. He’d been feeling like shit so he didn’t want to go shopping this week. He wouldn’t let me do it for him either.” Drew came to the fridge beside her and opened the door wider, looked at the hotdogs and frowned. He smelled clean and yet still woodsy with a hint of campfire and… paint thinner?

“I’ve been bringing him dinner from my place, complaining my woman overcooked again and was wasting my money so he’d take it.”

“Your woman?” she stammered. His woman. Addi tried to picture the woman who would be this man’s lover and felt a tinge of jealousy as if ten years hadn’t passed between them. She was once his girl. “Someone else lives here?”

“No, no one lived in the camp but Ray and me. I don’t have a woman. I’d just say that so he’d eat what I brought him.” Drew’s eyes were pinned intensely on hers, making her heart quicken its pace. “There’s been no one serious since you, Addi.”

Her heart thudded harder against her ribs and her breath stuck. What the hell did that mean? He let the refrigerator door close, but they never broke their stare. She licked her lips. The silence was killing her. Why didn’t he say something else?

“You know before you took your glasses off I didn’t recognize you.” She waved her hand, rambling. “And I misunderstood when the lawyer told me a man lived here with my uncle.” She looked down to break their fervid stare.

“He said you were very close. I dunno, but the way he said it I got the impression you were my uncle’s boyfriend.” She looked at the helmet in his hands and shook her head, feeling her cheeks heat. “No, not hungry at all.” She pointed at the helmet. “And I’m not getting on that death machine with you.”

“Wait.” He started laughing and she looked back up at him. “You thought I was with your uncle? And then when I said he was like a father to me—” He paused to laugh harder. She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

“Baby girl, trust me, I’m always the daddy in a relationship.” His brow arced at her and she felt a tickle in her gut. She licked her lips again and warmth began to spread through her. He’s always the daddy? He must have noticed her reaction because his mouth curled on one side and his eyes drilled hotly into hers.

“And honey, my bike is not a death machine. You can trust Daddy to keep you safe.” He winked and her breathing sped up. She was sick and twisted, she decided. Her dampening palms and panties proved it. He had just turned her on by calling himself Daddy—twice. And Jesus, she was about to bury her beloved uncle. What the hell was wrong with her?

“Besides, you have no clue where you’re going. We’ll get there faster on my bike.”

“Nuh-uh.” Addi shook her head, waving her hand, palm out, at him. “My rental has a GPS and plenty of life-saving airbags. I’ll find it just fine.”

His chest rose in a sigh. “You’re still damn stubborn. Just like your uncle.” He crossed his arms. “Follow me on the bike.”

“Why? Why are you back here?” she asked, surprised the words in her mind had come out. He looked down a moment before finding her eyes again.

“You have questions and I’ll answer them, but for now we need to get to the funeral home.”

She set her jaw as he left the cabin, effectively cutting off her opportunity to demand answers. Why the hell did he think he could control everything? What made him the boss?

Because he’s a daddy. She put her hand on her forehead. Oh, God. And as much as her mind hated the idea, her body loved it.

“Screw you, pal,” she grumbled under her breath and followed. He could demand all he wanted, but he couldn’t make her follow him. He hurt her, broke her heart and her uncle’s, and maybe it was a long time ago and he’d forgotten, but she hadn’t.

She knew she was being unreasonable, but she was hangry, and hated when men thought they knew best. Especially men she’d once loved; man—just one.

And dammit, being a bitch was unavoidable; she was scared to see her strong uncle lying in a coffin—scared she couldn’t hold back her fear, grief, and exhaustion much longer.

Especially with Drew around, bringing up her past, comforting her and making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She didn’t want to crumple.

---