Page 22 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Is it fixed?” Violet demands, breaking the moment.

I clear my throat. “Almost. Just needs…” But Evie’s still pressed against me, and suddenly, basic truck repair feels a lot more complicated.

“Children!” A sharp voice cuts through the parking lot. “The after-school program is starting!”

Owen’s teacher waves from the doorway. Time for his art class—the reason I’m supposed to be here in the first place.

“Coming!” He hugs Violet quickly. “See you tomorrow, Queen V!”

“Don’t forget your crown tomorrow,” she calls after him. “The kingdom needs its princess!”

I watch him go, aware of Evie’s eyes on me. “You didn’t have to stay,” she says softly. “After dropping Owen off.”

“Maybe I wanted to.”

Something changes in her expression. She opens her mouth to respond, but Violet tugs her sleeve.

“Mama, can Uncle Zane come over? He can teach me more about engines!”

“Baby, I’m sure he has plans?—”

“Actually.” I close the hood, trying to sound casual. “I could take a look at that transmission noise too. If you want.”

Our eyes meet over Violet’s head.

“Please, Mama?” Both girls are now using those deadly puppy eyes.

Evie’s lips curve. “Well, if it’s for educational purposes…”

I follow her truck home, my bike rumbling beneath me. The sun sets behind Wolf Pike’s mountains, painting everything gold.

Something’s happening here. Something that has nothing to do with loose belts or broken transmissions.

And for once in my life, I’m not in a hurry to rush it.

From this angle, her driveway feels different. Usually, I’m next door, watching her come and go. Now, she’s leading us inside, and the girls chatter about showing me their toys in the living room.

“Homework first,” Evie reminds them. Both girls groan but obey, heading upstairs with their backpacks.

“They always listen that well?” I follow her to the kitchen.

“Only when they want something.” She fills the kettle. “Coffee?”

“Sure.” I lean against her counter, watching her move around her space. “So about that transmission…”

“We both know there’s nothing wrong with my transmission.” She sets two mugs down. Her eyes meet mine, challenging.

Heat crawls up my neck. “Could still take a look.”

“At what exactly?”

Christ. The way she says it makes my mouth go dry.

Footsteps thunder down the stairs. “Done!” Violet announces.

“Already?” Evie’s eyebrow rises. “Show me.”

While she checks their work, I wander into her kitchen. On the fridge, I see a single family photo of the three of them standing in front of this house.

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