Page 24 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Complicated?”

She laughs softly. “That’s one word for it.”

“Mama!”

“Go.” I steal one more quick kiss. “Before your subjects revolt.”

At my bike, I look back. She stands in the doorway, illuminated by porch light.

Whatever this is, it’s just beginning.

9

RICK

The gallery’sbooks look different after hours. Fifteen years of building this place, and sometimes I still see that run-down storefront we started with. Now we’ve got waiting lists six months deep, clients flying in from both coasts.

My phone buzzes. Teller’s name lights up the screen.

“Little late for a social call.”

“Since when do we do social?” But there’s a lightness in his voice that wasn’t there a year ago. Amazing what having a family can do. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up—Death’s Head’s been sniffing around your territory. Again.”

I lean back in my chair, studying the expansion plans on my desk. “They trying to start trouble?”

“Nah. Piper accidentally hit their VP’s kid with a water balloon at the park. Had to explain that my five-year-old isn’t actually declaring war.” He chuckles. “Though she’s got damn good aim.”

“Takes after her old man?”

“Men,” he corrects, and there’s pride in his voice. “All three of us. Speaking of multiple dads, how are your brothers handling the new employee?”

My gut tightens. Should’ve known he’d notice. “That obvious?”

“It sure is. I know what it feels like to be in your shoes. Plus, you’ve got that look…” He lets the sentence hang.

“What look?”

“You’ve got that look. The same one I had before Ayla. Before we figured out sharing was the answer.”

Movement catches my eye. Chase is in his studio again.

“It’s complicated.”

“Always is.” Something crashes in the background, followed by a child’s laughter. “Shit, gotta go. Baby’s mobile.”

The call ends, leaving me with thoughts I’ve been avoiding. My brothers have changed since Evie arrived. Hell, we all have.

Chase hasn’t looked at another woman in weeks. His usual parade of clients-turned-conquests has dried up, replaced by endless sketches of one face, one body.

And Zane? My wild youngest brother now plans his day around school pickup. He knows Violet’s favorite ice cream flavor and helps Daisy with math. Yesterday, I caught him building a toy garage because “the princess’s cars need somewhere to park.”

The old photos on my wall catch my attention—three brothers on motorcycles, young and angry at the world. Now, Chase owns the most successful tattoo studio in three states, and Zane’s designs sell for thousands. We’ve grown up and built something real.

But we’ve never quite figured out relationships. Women either run screaming from our unique dynamic or try to drive wedges between us. The ones who stay…well, they never stay long.

Watching Teller’s crew figure it out gave me hope. Their little girl calls all three men daddy without confusion. Their family works because they stopped fighting for what they all wanted.

The sound of an engine draws me to my office window. Zane’s pulling in, coming from Evie’s place again. His smile says everything as he dismounts his bike.

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