Page 10 of Protected By the Bikers Next Door (Never Just One #4)
“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Bear says, barely suppressing his own hysterics.
“Oh yes, I especially like the pink scrunchies,” I reply, giggling uncontrollably.
Jenny, oblivious to our teasing, beams at Hawk. “See, I told you she’d like it.” Hawk is apparently Jenny’s new favorite as she demands he sit next to her. “Mommy, you can sit with Bear,” she declares.
Wolf frowns slightly, and I hide my smile that this big, brooding boss of a motorcycle club seems to feel put out that a five-year-old is leaving him out.
Part of me had hoped I could sit next to Jenny to avoid being that close to any of the guys, but there’s no way I can refuse without it being odd. So, I end up sitting between Bear and Wolf. We dish up the food and dig in, the conversation taking a lull as we focus on our dinner.
My foot accidentally brushes against Wolf’s, and I pull it back abruptly as if scalded.
I don’t want him to think I’m playing footsie with him.
He looks at me, a slight smirk dancing across his lips, and he reaches out a hand under the table, his finger skimming along my thigh, his gentle touch making every nerve alight before he withdraws his hand and continues to eat as if nothing happened.
Although the dampness between my thighs serves as proof that I didn’t imagine it.
Flustered, I can barely eat or concentrate on the conversation. I’m grateful when it’s time to serve dessert, as it gives me an excuse to get up from the table.
“Sorry, it wasn’t healthier…” I say as I clean their empty plates. Wolf wordlessly gets up to help, grabbing clean dessert plates from the cupboard and laying the table.
“Don’t be, the unhealthier the better, I say,” Bear replies, leaning back and rubbing his stomach theatrically. “That was incredible.”
I wave away their thanks and compliments, but inside I’m thrilled to see how much they enjoyed my cooking. My ex was always so critical, especially of unhealthy meals like this.
“Well, I hope you have room for dessert…” I say as I place the pie on the table. Everyone oohs and ahhs appreciatively, and Wolf insists on dishing it out.
“You’ve done enough. Sit.”
“You’ll have to let me know how you get your crust to crisp, Harper. Mine always seems to go soggy,” Hawk says as he digs in.
“You bake?” I say, looking up from my plate to meet his eye.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, you just don’t exactly strike me as the homebody type…”
He shrugs. “I like baking, it’s simple when you follow the instructions, and peaceful. When I bake, I can lose myself in the task.”
“I feel the exact same way,” I reply genuinely.
When the time comes to clear the table and wash up, the guys shoo me away, insisting that, as I cooked, they will tidy up.
“Okay, thanks,” I say, grateful that it’s one less thing to do. “If it’s alright, I’ll just go get Jenny bathed and into her pjs.”
“Of course, treat it as your own home,” Wolf says, not for the first time since we got here.
“Once you’re done doing that, you and Jenny can pick a movie for us all to watch,” Bear says, much to Jenny’s delight as she whisks me away, for once eager to get ready for bed.
Jenny picks a Disney movie. I try to convince her that perhaps it would be best if she chose something that everyone will enjoy, but the guys insist they want to watch it too.
I feel stupidly grateful for how good they are with Jenny.
If only her father were like this. Though he claims Jenny should be with him, that she’d be safer and better off, he doesn’t have any actual interest in spending time with her or being a real parent.
Jenny has migrated from her seat between Hawk and Bear on the other couch to sprawl on the floor in front of the TV as usual.
She’s a bundle of energy, often jumping up to mimic something in the film or to rush over to the guys to tell them something before returning to her spot on the floor.
She’s going to sleep like a log tonight, I think.
I can’t concentrate on the movie at all.
I’m far too distracted by Wolf’s leg pressed against mine as he sits next to me on the smaller of the two couches.
My senses feel completely overloaded by his proximity, the smell of his aftershave, and the feel of his body against mine, setting me on fire.
When I try to inch away, he moves closer, like a magnet drawn to me.
I don’t know if he knows what he’s doing or if it’s accidental.
He seems totally engrossed in the movie, but when I sneak a peek at his face, I notice the trace of a smirk.
Does he know the effect he’s having on me?
When the movie is over, I spring from my seat.
“Time for bed, Jenny.” She protests, but I can tell she’s tired.
“No, it’s past your bedtime already. Say goodnight,” I insist firmly.
The last thing I want is for her to show up at school tired.
If her teachers started asking questions, I’m sure I’d have the school ringing, asking why we had a sleepover with three men.
The thought of the gossip that would follow is enough to make me put my foot down.
“Can you read me a bedtime story, Uncle Bear?” she pleads, trying her luck with Bear.
“Uncle Bear is tired. Mommy will read you one,” I say, sensing a meltdown.
“No. I want Bear!” she says, stamping her foot.
As much as I like and trust the guys, it’s too much to expect them to entertain my daughter constantly, and I’m not about to let anyone I’ve just met spend time alone with her. Bear, perhaps sensing this, offers a solution that leaves everyone happy.
“How about your mom and I read to you together?” he says, glancing at me for my approval, and I mouth a silent thanks at him.
Jenny is thrilled by the prospect, and mercifully, only halfway through the story, she falls asleep. Bear and I sneak out of the room, careful not to wake her.
“Thank you for being so good with her,” I whisper.
“Not at all. It’s my pleasure. I always wanted kids. I just never met the right woman.”
“You’re not exactly over the hill yet. You could still have children,” I point out.
“Here’s hoping,” he replies with a small smile.
We stand there for a moment, not moving.
Bear seems in no rush to go back downstairs to join the others, and I’m curious to know more about this gentle giant.
“What made you decide to become an Army medic? It seems to me that being a soldier, whose job it is to shoot and even kill people, and also a medic who cares for the sick and wounded, are somewhat conflicting,” I ask, wondering how he can do both.
He contemplates my question for a moment, scratching his beard.
“You’re right, but the two aren’t mutually exclusive either.
After all, many people need medical assistance in battle.
While I was in the military, I found I was good at staying calm and helping injured people, so I became a medic.
I joined the Army first when I was eighteen, mostly because I had nothing else to do.
I had no real career prospects. I grew up in a small town with a single mom who worked two jobs to keep food on the table.
Most of the people there never left. I didn’t want that to be me. ”
I nod, understanding. “Are you and your mom close?”
“We were. But she got sick a while back with dementia. Most of the time, she doesn’t know who I am now. She’s well cared for in a home. I don’t visit her as much as I should,” he admits guiltily, his brown eyes sad.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I know how hard it is to lose a parent. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was eighteen, leaving me and my big sister alone until she died only a year later of ovarian cancer,” I tell him, surprised that I did.
I don’t talk about them to anyone. If asked about my parents, I usually tell people I’m an only child and my parents live out of state. It’s easier to lie than face people’s pity.
“I’m sorry, Harper, that must have been tough.”
I shrug, keen to change the subject to less dangerous territory lest I reveal too much of myself to this kind, caring man. “It was a long time ago. Now it’s just me and Jenny. We’re happy being alone.”
“You’re not alone,” he says softly, his deep brown eyes searching mine.
I think about how easy it could be to fall for this man. How nice it would be to step into his embrace right now and let him take care of me. But then I remember why that can never happen, and I step away, breaking the spell between us.
“I think I’m going to go to bed; it’s been a long day,” I say, though I know I won’t sleep.
Bear nods. “Goodnight, Harper. Just shout if you need anything, I’ll be here.”
Later, I’m lying in bed next to Jenny, listening to the gentle sound of her breath, unable to sleep.
I get up to use the bathroom, pausing at the door when I hear the guys talking, their voices low and serious.
I realize that they’re discussing me and Jenny and how they plan to protect us going forward.
“Nobody touches them. Nobody.”
I feel a rush of warmth as I realize that they genuinely care.
It’s a thought that both terrifies and thrills me in equal measure.
Getting involved with a motorcycle club on paper sounds like a reckless and dangerous decision, but right now, they’re the ones making me feel safe.
I trust them. I trust that they’ll protect us even if I can’t open up to them fully. If I’m not the person they think I am.