Page 17 of Baby for the Bikers

When Tom came by to help—barely forty-eight hours after moving in, and I was already asking neighbors for help—his face showed no surprise when I explained what happened. He just nodded and pulled out his toolbox, as if bike owners breaking down doors was Tuesday’s regularly scheduled program in Wolf Pike.

“Kane brothers, huh?” he said as he measured the damaged frame. “Figured they’d come calling sooner or later. You hit their bikes?”

I froze, dish towel twisted between my fingers. “How did you?—”

“Small town.” He shrugged, fitting a new piece of wood into the splintered section.

The casual way he said it made my stomach drop. “Is everyone in town going to know by dinner?”

Tom laughed, tightening a screw. “Probably knew by lunch. But don’t worry too much about it. You’re not the first newcomer to have a run-in with the Black Wolves.”

“Black Wolves?” The name made my skin prickle. Different from the Vipers, but still predatory.

“Local MC.” He tested the door, making sure it swung properly. “Been the unofficial law around here for decades.”

I was perched on a kitchen stool, watching him work. “Are they…dangerous?”

His pause lasted just long enough to make my heart skip. “Depends on who you ask. And what you mean by dangerous.”

“I mean, should I be worried about what just happened?”

Tom wiped his hands on a rag, considering his words. “The Black Wolves keep order in Wolf Pike. Have since the seventies. Town’s too small, and too remote, for proper police presence, so they filled the gap. Traffic drugs out, keep bad elements away, and make sure businesses pay fair wages. They protect what’s theirs.”

My throat tightened. “And what’s theirs?”

“The town,” he said simply. “Everyone in it.”

Now, I slip into my most comfortable pajamas, the soft cotton a stark contrast to the black lace that’s currently in Ryder Kane’s possession. The thought sends another inappropriate shiver down my spine.

“Those Kane brothers,” Tom had continued, packing up his tools, “they’ve been gone five, six years. Nobody really knows where. Some say military contracts. Others say private security work overseas. Either way, they came back different. Focused. Started building businesses right away. Garage first. Now that diner they’re setting up. Won’t be the last, either.”

“They broke my door down because I hit their bikes,” I reminded him.

His smile was knowing in a way that made my cheeks heat. “Sure they did.”

Now, as I run a comb through my damp hair, his next words replay in my head with uncomfortable clarity.

“Thing about the brothers in this town—they’ve got patterns.” His face turned slightly pink. “Advantages and disadvantages to getting mixed up with them, depending on how you look at it.”

“What do you mean, patterns?”

He glanced toward his own apartment, lowering his voice. “They share. Women, I mean.”

The comb catches in a tangle. I wince, working it free. Share. Such a simple word for a concept that makes my stomach flip in ways it absolutely shouldn’t.

“Teller, Clay, and Kip were first,” Tom continued, face growing pinker. “Ayla was just supposed to be a nanny for that baby someone left on their doorstep. Next thing you know—” He snapped his fingers. “All three of them. Together.”

I stared at him, wondering if his wife knew just how much thought he’d put into the romantic lives of the town’s MC members.

“Then the Cross brothers with Evie,” he continued. “Single mother, two little girls. Running from her drug lord husband or something. Brought all kinds of mafia trouble to town, but the Wolves handled it. Now they’re all raising those kids together.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with my door,” I managed, though my face felt like it was on fire.

“Patterns, Rowan.” He tapped his temple. “Now there’s you and the Kane brothers.”

“I don’t—I’m not—” I sputtered. “I only just met them today when they broke in to confront me about their bikes!”

The look he gave me was almost pitying. “Patterns don’t lie. First day in town, and all three show up at your door? Trust me, I’ve lived here my whole life.”

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