Page 14 of Her Obsessed Biker
And I wait.
I tell myself that this is about her safety. But deep down, I know it’s more than that. I don’t want her to go because if she walks away tonight, I might never see her again. And that thought guts me.
There’s something about this woman that pulls me in. And she’s so much more than just a pretty face. Piper is brave and determined. It takes guts to come all the way out here betting on chance. It takes courage to keep standing in the face of the cold silence of the man who’s supposed to be her father.
Somehow, she’s become the one thing I didn’t know I was missing until she walked into my bar and flipped my whole damn world on its head.
She looks up at me, biting her bottom lip. She seems to be thinking, weighing her options. Then she gives a single nod. “Alright,” she says softly. “Just for tonight.”
Relief hits me like a freight train. I didn’t realize how tight my chest had gotten until I could breathe again.
I nod once. “Good.”
We don’t speak for a moment. The wind rustles the trees above us. Somewhere far off, a coyote howls. She shivers.
I shrug out of my leather and drape it over her shoulders without a word. She startles, caught off guard by the gesture. Her fingers touch the collar like it means something more than it should.
Maybe it does.
“C’mon,” I say, voice low. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
She follows me.
And all I can think as we walk into the shadows together is that tonight…I might’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.
Or the best decision I’ll ever make.
Chapter Five
Piper
Rock’s house is exactly what I expected from a man like him—quiet, dark, intimidating…and somehow, clean. Not sterile-clean, but deliberate. Sparse furniture. Heavy wood. Dark leather. Everything about the place feels masculine and restrained. Just like him.
I stand just inside the entryway, my arms still wrapped around his cut, because he hasn’t asked for it back and because, secretly, it feels like armor. Like protection.
“Make yourself at home,” he says quietly, then disappears down the hall without saying anything more, leaving me standing in the silence of his domain.
My heart is still galloping, my body wired from everything that’s happened tonight. Finding my father. His rejection. The bikers who cornered me. The way Rock stepped in like a damn avenging force. And then the way he looked at me after, like I wasn’t just some girl who stumbled into his world, but something more. Something that mattered.
The smell hits me next—garlic, onion, something warm. I frown and step further into the house, following the trail to the kitchen doorway.
Rock is…cooking.
Not ordering out. Not opening a beer and calling it dinner. Cooking.
He stands at the stove, one hand on the pan, the other steadying a cutting board. Flames flicker beneath cast iron, and the scent of something hearty fills the kitchen.
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “You cook?”
He doesn’t look up. “You hungry or not?”
I raise a brow. “I didn’t say I wasn’t impressed.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
He shrugs one powerful shoulder. “Man’s gotta eat.”
