Page 36 of Biker Daddy

“Well, maybe I need your hands on me.” She sounded confident but felt unsure.

“Here.” He pulled her phone out of his pocket. “It fell out of your pocket when you ran. It’s been buzzing like an addict.” He handed her the phone. “Call your people.”

She looked at her notifications and jumped up so suddenly the chair tipped onto two legs before falling back into place. “There’s a Facebook group for the camp!”

“There is? Huh.” He winked. “Now who’s the smart one?”

She shot him a toothy grin. “No one has ever thought an author was dumb. Now a biker…” She let her words trail off with a snicker, knowing her statement was bullshit.

He grabbed her and pulled her close. “Oh, really?” He fisted the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her head back slightly.

Man, she loved when he did that, too.

“And isn’t it a bit dumb to provoke your daddy?”

Her knees weakened and the small smile on his face turned feral.

“Maybe.”

He kissed her before she could speak further. Releasing her, he cupped her face gently. “Now, show me this site, babe.”

“I made the Facebook group a few years ago when Uncle Ray came to visit me.” She pulled it up on her phone and handed it to him. He browsed through the pictures, looking tense.

“Drew, what do you think if the funeral was just for close friends and family and I organize a memorial weekend here at the camp for the old campers and their families? Like in a month or so?” She had thought of it only seconds ago, but it felt settled and right, like she’d planned to do it all along.

“I love that idea, and I think Ray would, too.” He set the phone down, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and leaned forward to kiss her nose.

“Oh, what size suit do you wear?”

He cocked his head. “I have a suit.”

“You do?” She scratched her forehead. “I’m sorry that was probably rude. I just assumed…”

“Assumed that I was a greasy biker who would rather die than wear a tie?” He smirked, so she did too, although her cheeks burned fiercely. “Here’s an even bigger surprise: Ray has one too. And we both looked damned handsome in them.”

She eyed him, her belly flipping at the thought of him in a suit.

“I don’t doubt that one bit—the handsome part anyway—but why?”

He shrugged. “Occasionally your uncle would drag me to crash one of those fancy gallery parties, but we went incognito. No one knew the actual artist by face, so we were in the clear to blend in. He loved hearing what people said.” Drew rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Why’d he donate it all, Drew? Why not keep some for himself? Retire somewhere nice. Have someone take care of him for a change.” Her eyes stung. “He took care of so many others his whole life, Drew, he deserved better.”

“You know Ray, baby girl. He wasn’t a complicated guy. He loved hard, and gave everything he had to his passions. Wayward, lost, or misguided boys, and I guess families that lost loved ones because of violence. He was a great man, Addi.” He took her hands, rubbing the tops of them with his clean but grease-stained thumbs. “Now no more lollygagging, little lady. Go have lunch and then have a long hot bath. I’ll come get you later. Daddy’s orders.”

She bit her lip again and her thighs clenched to ease the throbbing his words caused. “Yeah, okay,” she murmured. “I am a little hungry.”

“We’ll pick one of Ray’s suits together, drop it off at the funeral home, and have a drink around the fire tonight.” He smiled. “Roast some marshmallows? Make s’mores?”

“Drink? I could probably use one of those.”

He chuckled. “I’m just giving you one. You get into enough trouble sober.” He winked. “I have a feeling you can’t hold your liquor.”

“I can too.” Once again, she pouted. “What I can’t hold is my s’mores.” His brows rose in a stern way and she lowered her eyes.

“Fine. One.”

“Good girl.” He pulled her in for a quick hug and swatted her bottom. “You’re lucky you didn’t argue more.”

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