Page 13 of Biker Daddy

Chapter Three

Drew

Addi had become a beautiful woman. He knew she would, but seeing her exceeded anything he could have imagined. If only he hadn’t assumed she was that sleaze reporter Rebecca Snow… if he’d actually looked at her before he’d been such a jackass, he’d have known in an instant. Those almond-shaped eyes had always undone him—so dark and deep, practically bottomless. And God, her spunk was like Sriracha sauce, heating him to his very core.

He had the urge to go to his studio and paint her right away. Which was often the only way to remove obsessive images from his mind. He knew he’d be distracted until he’d painted her. He’d painted the girl countless times, but he wanted to paint the woman.

There was an insatiable itch—no, a burn—in Drew to drop her bag and run, full speed, to his studio on the cliff and barricade himself inside, lose himself in creation, to paint her naked, in the middle of an orgasm, her head tossed back and her hair wild, her hands gripping a red silk sheet. His heart pounded and his cock hardened. He’d loved her with the innocence of youth, and he’d lost none of that love, but now he wanted her like a man wants a woman.

But Addi needed to be taken care of. And he’d promised Ray. He remembered it as if it were only yesterday.

“I need you to promise me something, Drew.” Ray’s gaunt face stared grimly at Drew as he reeled his line back a little, tugging his fishing pole slightly. Drew did the same in hopes of drumming up interest in their bait.

“What’s that, Ray? Not to screw that new waitress in your bed while you’re getting your tests done in the hospital?”

Ray chuckled. “Nah, go ahead. It’s the closest I’ll get to any action now.” It was Drew’s turn to chuckle then as Ray looked skyward and smiled. “She has some rack on her. One look at her in that tight uniform brings Ray Junior back to life in seconds.”

Drew laughed harder, rocking the small fishing boat, until Ray looked at him seriously.

“It’s Addi.”

“Addi?” Drew swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry and the image of the waitress naked disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“When I’m gone, I need you to take care of her for me.” Ray’s mouth firmed and he held up a hand to stop Drew from speaking.

“I know how you feel and I know it won’t be easy for you.” He rubbed his neck beneath his collar-length gray hair. “She’s got no one, Andrew. No one who takes care of her—even as a young girl.

“I’m the only one who could ever take care of her, besides you. You took care of her that summer, Drew. I know you did. Once I’m gone, she’ll be lost. She’ll pretend she’s fine. Hell, she’ll probably act like she could run the world on top of everything else. She’s stubborn like me, but I know you’ll see through her smokescreen.”

“But—”

Ray cut him off sharply. It wasn’t a tone he used often so Drew shut up. “I know you love her. I even know you don’t think you deserve her, but she’s my baby and I deserve to know she’ll be cared for.”

“Ray, I’m not good for her and you know what happened last time you asked me to watch out for her.”

“You were only doing what you thought was right to protect her. She needs protecting. That girl needs to be set straight sometimes. I know you know that, too.” He looked at Drew and Drew’s heart kicked up a notch. “You’re a born leader, kid. And I don’t mean like your father wanted. You’re a good man, even if you don’t see it. You’ve gotten more from me than you ever did from that no-good bastard named on your birth certificate.”

Suddenly Ray’s line started reeling fast. He gripped the fishing pole with two hands and arched back, pulling and winding the line in repeatedly. The little boat swayed and Drew held the sides.

“I know I owe you, Ray—”

“Bullshit!” He was out of breath. “You’ve been taking care of me and my place for years. This ain’t about owing, this is about love.” He huffed but when Drew attempted to take his rod, he growled. “You’re like a son to me. She’s like a daughter. I love you both and I need you to take care of her. Promise me, dammit!”

And so Drew did. And he wouldn’t break that promise—not for anything.

Addi needed him.

She always had, and even if Ray hadn’t asked him to care for her, he would have. He couldn’t resist. As self-destructive as it was, she tugged at him as if there was some unseen gravitational pull between them. She played the part of taking care of herself, but just like Ray had said, he saw beneath that façade.

He’d be there for her—keep her safe—but she was off limits for him. No matter how much he loved her, she was not his and never would be. Not when it could put her life in danger.

Addi deserved better than someone hiding from a family with connections to drug cartels, brothels, and bloody murders—a family that would hurt or kill anyone Drew cared for as punishment for him leaving. He and his past were too dark for her.

Drew looked between the Harley and the Norton. He wouldn’t take the Harley. He’d just finished fixing up a ‘69 Norton and had wanted on it since he’d found it hidden like an unpolished gem at an estate sale. He planned to auction it off for his Victims of Violent Crimes charity, but wanted to enjoy it for a few weeks first.

Well, Ray was supposed to auction it off. Drew put everything was in Ray’s name so Drew could stay anonymous. He couldn’t risk alerting the Skull Grinders of his whereabouts.

How would that work now? Ray had nothing and refused to take anything from him, but on paper, he owned it all. He was the name on the paintings. He was the name on the accounts, the charity foundations, everything except Drew’s Harley (that was under his legally changed name, Andrew Fitzer)—Ray even held the deed to Drew’s studio on the cliff. No one would ask questions or dig into his past and former name without provocation, but if Andrew Fitzer was known as the rich and famous artist who’d founded several charities, they might.

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