Page 20 of Claimed By the Bikers

“There you are.” Silas materializes on my other side, carrying three cups of what smells like spiked cider. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”

He hands one cup to me and another to Garrett, keeping the third for himself. Like Garrett’s dessert offering, it’s a casual gesture that somehow feels significant. Taking care of me. Making sure I have what I need.

“Thank you. This smells amazing.”

“Old family recipe. My grand-mère would roll over in her grave if she knew I was sharing it with Yankees.”

The ladies laugh, and Mrs. Patterson swats at his arm. “You and your French grandmother stories. I swear you make half of them up.”

“Moi?Never.” His wounded expression is so exaggerated that everyone laughs again.

But while he’s charming the older women, his free hand settles on the small of my back, just lightly. The touch is barely there, easily dismissed as accidental if anyone questions it. But I feel the heat of his palm through my dress, the possessive weight of his fingers.

Now I’m flanked by both Garrett and Silas, with Atlas holding court just a few feet away. To an outside observer, it probably looks coincidental. Three men who happen to be near their employee at a community gathering.

But I can feel the subtle choreography of it. The way they’ve positioned themselves to keep other men at a distance. How they include me in conversations, making me part of their circle. The casual touches and lingering looks that mark territory without being obvious about it.

“I need to use the restroom,” I murmur after another few minutes of small talk.

“I’ll walk you,” Silas offers immediately.

“That’s not necessary?—”

“Place like this, easy to get turned around,” Garrett adds. “Better to have someone show you the way.”

They’re not wrong, but they’re also not exactly right. The community center isn’t that big. But protesting would draw more attention, so I let Silas guide me through the crowd toward the back hallway.

“Having fun?” he asks once we’re away from the main noise.

“Your town knows how to throw a party.”

“Ourtown,” he corrects gently. “You’re part of Wolf Pike now, whether you planned on it or not.”

Something in his tone makes me look at him more carefully. “What do you mean?”

“Just that people like you here. You fit.” He stops walking, turning to face me in the quiet hallway. “Question is, do you want to fit?”

“I…”

“Because if you’re planning to disappear back to whatever life you had before, now would be the time to say so.”

My heart pounds. “Why would you think I’m planning to disappear?”

“Call it intuition.” His green eyes search my face. “You have the look of someone who’s used to running.”

“I’m not running from anything.”

“No? Then what are you running to?”

Before I can answer, footsteps echo in the hallway. Atlas appears, his expression unreadable. “Everything alright back here?”

“Just making sure our girl doesn’t get lost,” Silas says smoothly.

Our girl.There’s that phrase again, casual but loaded with meaning.

“Bathroom’s just around the corner,” Atlas tells me. “We’ll wait here.”

In the small restroom, I splash cold water on my wrists and stare at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my pupils dilated. I look like a woman who’s in over her head, which is exactly what I am.