Page 61 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Sky’s flexible. She’s renting a place in Wolf Pike for the next month.”

That gets my attention. “Month-long rental? Most clients just book hotels.”

“She likes immersing herself in local culture. Getting to know the artists and their community.”

If she only knew what kind of community she was walking into.

The day progresses with regular clients blending in with Skylar’s filming schedule. Chase spends hours refining designs while her crew captures his process.

“This could be huge for us,” Evie says during a quiet moment. “Her last studio feature got over ten million views.”

“Yeah.” But all I can think about is Death’s Head watching our gallery and taking photos. More eyes on us means more vulnerability.

Around lunch, Skylar joins Evie at the front desk. They fall into easy conversation about tattoo aftercare products. I catch phrases like “sustainable ingredients” and “natural healing.”

“Your wife really knows her stuff,” Skylar tells me later.

I don’t correct her assumption.

“First session next week?” I confirm, pushing aside worries about exposure.

“Perfect.” She studies Chase’s final design, a massive piece incorporating elements from her travels. “I can’t wait to show my followers real artistry.”

After she leaves, the gallery feels both emptier and lighter. Chase disappears into his studio, already refining details. Zane handles the afternoon appointments while I catch up on paperwork.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Evie perches on my desk, coffee in hand.

“Just business.” I pull her closer. “Big client, big exposure.”

“Big worries?” Her fingers find the tension in my shoulders. “Death’s Head drove by four times today.”

Sometimes I forget how observant she is. “You counted, huh?”

“I did. Couldn’t help myself.” She studies my face. “You think Skylar’s presence will complicate things?”

“Everything complicates things lately.”

She kisses me softly. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together…”

By closing time, Chase has three different versions of Skylar’s design spread across his station. The level of detail makes my artist’s soul ache with appreciation.

“She’s going to document every session,” he tells me. “Full behind-the-scenes access.”

“Just be careful what ends up on camera.” I tap the wall we share with The Den.

He sobers slightly. “Already discussed boundaries with her team. They’ll submit all footage for approval before posting.”

At least someone’s thinking clearly. I’ve been too caught up in potential dangers to see opportunities.

The drive home feels longer than usual. There are more bikes on the road, and not all of them are friendly. But then we pull up to Evie’s house, where warmth lies.

Inside, domestic life drowns out business concerns. Violet shows me her latest art project while Daisy reads aloud from her new book. The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the kitchen where Evie cooks.

“Taste this.” She offers a spoon, and for a moment, I forget about Death’s Head and social media exposure and all the threads threatening to unravel.

“Perfect,” I tell her, meaning more than just the sauce.

Later, after the girls are asleep, we gather in the living room. Chase sketches more details for Skylar’s piece while Zane and Evie argue playfully about motorcycle maintenance.

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