Page 20 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Special ringtone.”

I step back, watching her smooth her dress with trembling hands. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, and my fingers have messed with her hair.

“Violet?” she answers, voice impressively steady. “What’s wrong, baby?”

The transformation fascinates me—from seductress to mother in seconds. Makes me wonder how much of either is real.

“I’ll be right there.” She ends the call, already gathering her things. “Violet’s running a fever. I need to?—”

“It’s alright. Go.” I fight the urge to pull her back into my arms. “The reports can wait.”

She pauses at the door. “Rick, about this?—”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

But we won’t. Just like we never talked about the first kiss. Just like she’ll probably put on another show for Chase’s window next week, pretending she doesn’t know I watch too.

Some things are better left unspoken.

I wait until her car starts before adjusting myself in my jeans. Tomorrow, we’ll all pretend this never happened. Keep playing our parts—the responsible brother, the professional employee.

8

ZANE

School pickup’snot exactly prime biker territory. Mothers in minivans give my Harley a side-eye as I lean against it, waiting. But when Owen begged me to see “Violet’s new kingdom”—his words—I couldn’t say no.

The playground is busy with after-school energy. Through the fence, I spot Violet holding court by the slide, directing kids twice her size with the confidence of a natural leader. Daisy sits cross-legged nearby, notebook in hand, apparently keeping score of whatever complex game her sister’s invented.

“Did you hear?” a mom in yoga pants stage-whispers to her friend. “The new woman? Someone said they saw tattoos all up her arms.”

“Single mother too,” her friend clucks. “Those poor girls.”

My jaw tightens. They don’t see what I see—that Evie’s girls are the most well-behaved girls I’ve ever met. Only a good mother can achieve this.

“Order in the kingdom!” Violet’s voice carries across the yard. “Princess Owen needs a dragon!”

I can’t help grinning. Owen, wearing what looks like a paper crown, seems perfectly happy taking orders from a four-year-old queen.

“Uncle Zane!” He spots me and waves. “Come see! I’m a princess!”

Several mothers shoot me alarmed looks as I cross the playground. Their whispers follow—tattoos, motorcycle… They can kiss my ass.

“Your Majesty.” I bow to Violet, who beams like I’ve made her whole day. “Nice kingdom you’ve got here.”

“We have dragons,” she informs me seriously. “And unicorns. And Owen’s the princess because he has the prettiest crown.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” I settle on the bench beside Daisy. “What’s the score?”

She shows me her notebook, filled with surprisingly complex tallies. “Dragons are winning, but the unicorns have more magic points.”

“Naturally.”

The playground gate squeaks, and there’s Evie. Today’s pantsuit can’t quite hide the ink on her wrists, but it does amazing things for her curves. Not that I’m looking. Much.

“Mama!” Violet launches herself at her mother. “Uncle Zane came to see my kingdom!”

Something soft crosses Evie’s face when she looks at me. “Did he now?”

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