Page 60 of Baby for the Bikers

Ryder’s already checking the security system, his face grim. “They knew where the cameras were. Avoided being seen coming in.”

The bell above the front door chimes, and all three of us tense. Our hands move instinctively toward concealed weapons. Rowan appears in the doorway, stopping short at the scene before her.

“What happened?” Her face pales as she takes in the destruction.

“Break-in,” I say, watching her reaction carefully. “Nothing major. Some baking supplies missing.”

She steps forward, eyes widening at the mess. “All my flour? The special imported vanilla?”

“We’ll replace everything,” I assure her, noting the tremor in her hands as she surveys the damage. She seems more shaken than the situation warrants, unless… “Did you see anyone suspicious hanging around when you left last night?”

“No.” She shakes her head, but there’s something off about her posture, something guarded. “Nothing unusual.”

“Take the day off,” I decide. “We’ve got this covered.”

“But the diner?—”

“Will survive one day without cinnamon rolls.” I guide her toward the door, my hand on the small of her back. “Go home, relax. We’ll call when it’s clear.”

She hesitates, then nods. “Okay. But call me if you need anything.”

After she leaves, I turn back to my brothers. “She seem off to you?”

Ryder shrugs, silent as always, but Maddox nods in agreement.

We head to the back office, where our security system records everything. It’s not state-of-the-art, but it’s good enough to capture most of the diner. Five screens show different angles—the front door, the main dining area, the register, the back door, and the pantry.

“Let’s check the footage from last night,” I suggest, pulling up the security program on the laptop. “Maybe we can catch a glimpse of who did this.”

As I start to click through the options, Ryder suddenly shifts beside me, tension radiating from his body.

“I fucked Rowan.”

The words hang in the air, stopping time. My finger freezes over the mouse, and I slowly look up at my brother.

“What did you just say?” My voice comes out unnaturally calm.

Ryder meets my gaze directly, unflinching. “I fucked Rowan. In the pantry. About a week ago.” He gestures toward the laptop. “You’ll see it in the security footage anyway, so I figured I should tell you first.”

The office goes dead silent. I stare at him, trying to process the bombshell he’s just dropped so casually in the middle of our investigation.

“You…” I can’t even finish the sentence, disbelief making my thoughts scatter.

“If we’re making confessions,” Maddox says suddenly, his voice strained, “then I should probably mention that I slept with her too. Two nights ago. At her apartment.”

The revelation hits like a punch to the gut. Both of them. They’ve both been with her, and neither thought to mention it until now.

“Were you planning to tell me at all?” I ask, voice deadly calm. “Or was I supposed to just figure it out on my own?”

Neither answers, which is answer enough.

“Fuck this,” I mutter, turning back to the screen. “We’ve got a break-in to deal with.”

I click on the pantry camera feed from last week, finding the date Ryder mentioned. Part of me doesn’t want to see this, but a larger, masochistic part needs to know exactly what happened.

The pantry camera angle isn’t great—it’s slightly elevated, catching most of the small room but with blind spots near the corners. For several minutes, nothing happens. Then, the door opens.

Rowan enters, dressed in the clothes I remember from that day—jeans and a simple top, now soaked through from what must have been the broken tap they reported. She’s trying to wring out her shirt, and even in the grainy footage, I can see the outline of her bra clearly through the wet fabric.

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