Page 20 of Her Daddy Biker
“I don’t know. I mean, I have school, my life in Glenwood…”
“That’s not what I asked, angel.” His gray eyes hold mine. “What do you want, Tyra?”
The direct question catches me off guard. What do I want? No one’s ever really asked me that before.
“I don’t want this to end,” I admit quietly. “But I don’t know how it could work. You live in Jackson Ridge, I live there, we barely know each other…”
“We know what matters.” He reaches across to engulf my hand in his giant one. A wave of warmth and safety wraps itself around me. “And Jackson Ridge is only an hour away from Glenwood Springs. Not exactly the other side of the world.”
“You’d want to keep seeing me? After?”
Something flashes in his silver eyes. “Angel, look at me.” I meet his gaze. “This isn’t just some storm fling. When I said you’re mine, I meant it.”
My breath catches. “Havoc…”
“I know it’s fast. I know it doesn’t make any logical sense.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles. “But I haven’t felt like this… fuck, ever. And I don’t think you have either.”
He’s right. Nothing ever even came close to the intensity of our connection. How natural it feels. Like an evidence.
“No,” I whisper. “I haven’t.”
“So we figure it out. You finish school, I run my business. We stick together.” His grip tightens. “We make it work because the alternative - not having you close - isn’t an option for me.”
I feel a lump in my throat, my eyes welling, my heart feeling so full, it hurts. “You really mean that?”
“Every word, sweetheart.”
Then he stands, pulling me up with him, and leads me to the living room, settling on the couch and pulling into his lap. The fire crackles, snow still falling heavy outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. It feels like we’re in our own private world.
“Tell me more about foster care,” Havoc says quietly.
I tense. “Not much to tell.”
“Tyra.”
I sigh, curling into his arms, seeking strength in his. “My mom died when I was twelve. In a car accident. I never knew my dad. No other family, so…” I shrug. “The system.”
Havoc’s arms tighten around me. “How many homes?”
I swallow back tears, fighting to push back the memories and stay here, with him, in this moment. Us. “Six. Some were okay; a few weren’t. I learned to keep my head down, not cause trouble, not get attached.”
We sit quietly for a moment, with just the sound of the fire and the storm outside. His strength, his warmth, his scent, his presence surrounding me.
“Is that why you wanna work with kids?” he asks in a low, soft rumble. One hand cupping the side of my face, the other curled around my hip.
“Yes,” I reply simply. That single word holding all my hopes and dreams.
“You’re going to be an amazing teacher.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you care. Because you understand what it’s like to need someone good on your side.” His words, spoken so close I feel them in my soul, are everything. “Those kids will be lucky to have you.”
I turn to look at him, wiping at my eyes. “You know, for a badass biker who lives alone on a mountain, you’re pretty good at saying nice things.”
Havoc chuckles, the sound vibrating through my chest. “Only with you, angel.”
He presses another kiss on the crown of my hair, and I bask in this perfect, warm, soft moment. But then his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at it and frowns.
