Page 75 of Baby for the Bikers

Chase lets out a low whistle, settling onto the couch like he’s getting comfortable for a show. “The baker? The one who trashed your bikes?”

“That’s the one,” Brick confirms, his expression unreadable.

“She’s been busy,” Chase observes mildly. “From what I hear, she’s been working her way through all three of you.”

The silence that follows is deafening. We all stand there, none of us willing to be the first to confirm what we all know to be true.

“Well?” Chase prompts, looking between us with growing amusement. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” Ryder says finally.

Brick takes another drink, his jaw tight. I can’t read him—never could when he doesn’t want me to.

“So you’re all sleeping with the same woman,” Chase summarizes, “and instead of talking about it like adults, you’re destroying your garage and each other’s faces.” He shakes his head, a small laugh escaping. “You’re acting like fucking children, you know that?”

“It’s not funny,” I snap. “This is?—”

“Complicated?” Chase finishes for me. “Yeah, no shit. Welcome to Wolf Pike’s favorite pastime.”

The casual way he dismisses our situation makes my temper flare again. “This isn’t a joke. She’s coming between us.”

“Is she?” Chase counters, sitting forward, suddenly serious. “Or are you three doing that all on your own?”

Ryder moves to the window, staring out at nothing in particular. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“None of us planned it,” Brick adds, the first hint of emotion cracking through his stoic facade.

“Do any of you actually know what you want?” Chase asks, looking at each of us in turn. “Because it seems like you all want the same thing but are too stubborn to admit it.”

I drain half my beer in one go. “What are you saying?”

Chase’s smile is knowing, almost sympathetic. “I’m saying that sharing isn’t just possible. It’s sometimes necessary. Some women are worth breaking every rule for.”

The room goes quiet as his words sink in. I know what he’s implying. Everyone in Wolf Pike knows about Chase and his brothers—how they share a life, a home, and a woman. Evie. The single mother who somehow tamed all three Cross brothers.

“That’s different,” Brick argues, but there’s a hollow quality to his protest.

“Is it?” Chase raises an eyebrow. “You’re all attracted to her. You all care about her. And from what I’m gathering, she feels the same about all of you.”

“So what—we’re supposed to set up some kind of rotation schedule?” I laugh bitterly. “Take turns?”

“No,” Chase says simply. “You’re supposed to be honest. With yourselves, with each other, and with her.” He stands, setting his half-finished beer on the coffee table. “Either that or two of you walk away. But looking at the state of your faces, I don’t think any of you is willing to do that.”

He’s right, damn him. The thought of walking away from Rowan feels impossible now. She’s gotten under my skin, into my blood, in a way no woman ever has before.

“It wouldn’t work,” Ryder says, but his voice lacks conviction.

“It works for us,” Chase counters. “It works for Teller and his brothers with Ayla. It works because we decide it works, because we all choose it, every day.”

Brick runs a hand over his face, exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. “And what about her? What does she want?”

“Have you asked her?” Chase’s simple question lands like a grenade in the middle of the room.

We haven’t. We’ve been too busy fighting over her, claiming her, marking her as our own. Too busy being precisely what Chase accused us of—children.

“Think about it,” Chase says, grabbing his helmet and heading for the door. “But don’t think too long. Women like that don’t wait around forever for men to get their shit together.”

The door closes behind him, leaving the three of us in strained silence.

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