Page 50 of Baby for the Bikers

“Don’t you dare,” she says fiercely. “It’s perfect.”

“Then hop on,” I say, stepping back. “Let’s see how she fits you.”

Rowan wipes her eyes and approaches the bike with reverence, swinging her leg over and settling onto the seat. Her hands find the grips naturally, and she adjusts her position with practiced ease.

“Perfect fit,” she says, and it is. We adjusted the seat and foot pegs specifically for her height, ensuring she’d be comfortable.

“Want to take her for a spin?” I ask. “Maybe do some riding after work today? There’s a nice route along the ridge that’s beautiful at sunset.”

Her eyes light up. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” I say, the words slipping out before I can think better of them.

Rowan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t correct me, which feels like its own kind of victory.

“Let me just grab my jacket,” I say, turning toward my locker. “We can head to the diner on these. Show the others your new ride.”

As I walk away, I hear Lucy’s voice behind me. “They spent all night on that bike, you know,” she tells Rowan. “I’ve never seen them work together on something so intently.”

“Brick kept saying the balancing had to be perfect for your height,” Nora adds. “And don’t get me started on how many times Ryder repainted that tank until the design was exactly right.”

“Quit gossiping and get back to work,” I call over my shoulder, but I can’t help grinning as I grab my jacket.

For the first time in a long time, something feels right. Like we’re building something good here, something that has nothing to do with the darkness we left behind when we came back to Wolf Pike.

Whether it’s the weed or just the look on Rowan’s face when she saw that bike, I can’t remember the last time I felt this light.

20

MADDOX

The garage feelsempty by six, most customers gone, and tools cleaned for the day. My mind’s been elsewhere since dropping Rowan at the diner this morning—replaying the memory of watching her show off that custom bike to the early breakfast crowd, pride written all over her face.

The track outside town has been calling my name. It’s the perfect place to see what she can really do on that machine.

I shut off the lights and lock up, the night air cool against my face as I ride toward Black Dog Bites. Main Street is quiet; most shops are already closed. Through the glass wall, I see Rowan wiping down tables while Brick counts the register.

The bell chimes as I enter, and she looks up with a tired smile.

“Right on time,” Brick says without looking up from the cash drawer. “She’s all yours, but don’t stay out late.”

“Yes, Dad,” I say, earning a chuckle from her. “Ready to break in that new ride?” I ask, immediately noticing the fatigue in her eyes.

“Been ready all day,” she says, but a yawn betrays her.

“You okay, princess? We can do this another night if you’re tired.”

She blinks, looking almost surprised. “When did you start being considerate?”

“I’ve always been considerate,” I reply. “You just choose to only see me as a jerk.”

Rowan yawns again, this time not bothering to hide it. “Sorry. Long day.”

“C’mon,” I decide, “let’s get you home.”

“No, really, I want to test out the bike?—”

Her protest is cut short by a loud growl from her stomach. She flushes pink as I laugh.

---