Page 21 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Owen’s the princess,” Daisy explains, packing up her scorekeeping supplies.

“Best princess in the realm,” I confirm. Owen grins, crown askew.

The other mothers whisper behind their hands as we move to the parking lot. Evie’s shoulders tense slightly—she’s heard them too. Before I can say something stupid, her truck makes a sound like angry metal, meeting angrier metal.

“Not again.” She kicks the tire in frustration. “I only just got it back.”

The rest of the moms clear out, throwing final judgmental glances our way. Good riddance.

“Pop the hood,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

“You don’t have to—” Evie starts, but Violet interrupts.

“Let him fix it, Mama! He knows everything about engines. He showed me the shiny parts in his bike last week!”

“Everything, huh?” Evie’s eyebrow rises, but she’s fighting a smile.

“Uncle Zane’s the best,” Owen adds loyally. “He fixed my skateboard.”

“With duct tape,” Daisy points out.

I wink at her. “Hey, that repair’s holding strong, isn’t it?”

The late afternoon sun catches Evie’s hair as she laughs. Something in my chest tightens at the sound. She’s been here, what, a month? Already, her girls feel like part of our weird extended family.

“Fine.” She pops the hood. “Work your magic, motorcycle man.”

The engine’s still hot when I lean in. Evie moves beside me, close enough that her perfume mingles with motor oil. It shouldn’t be sexy. It really shouldn’t.

“See this?” I point to the belt. “It’s loose. Makes that screaming sound when you accelerate.”

“Like a banshee,” Violet supplies helpfully. She’s wedged herself between us, trying to climb up on the bumper so she can see.

“Exactly like a banshee.” I ruffle her hair, picking her up so she can peer into the truck with us. “Want to learn how to fix it?”

Her eyes light up. “Can I?”

“Violet.” Evie’s warning tone holds a mother’s concern. “You’ll get dirty.”

“Good.” I grab a wrench from my bike’s tool kit. “Every queen should know basic car repair. Right, Your Majesty?”

Evie’s expression softens as she watches me show her daughter the basics.

“The belt goes here?” She points.

“Smart girl.” I adjust her grip on the wrench. “Just like that.”

Even Daisy drifts closer, her natural curiosity winning over proper princess behavior. Owen’s already got grease on his paper crown.

“You have a way with them,” Evie says quietly.

“Nah. They’re good kids.” I try to ignore how close she’s standing. “Smart. Brave. Like their mom.”

Pink touches her cheeks. Before she can respond, her engine makes that unholy sound again.

“Here.” I guide her hand to the wrench. “Feel that? Too loose.”

Her fingers are warm under mine. When she shifts to get a better angle, her hip brushes my thigh. The touch sends heat straight through me.

---