Page 10 of The Biker and His Bride

“About us.”

She tensed. “There isn’t an ‘us.’ We agreed—no relationships.”

“Yeah. Thing is, agreements change.”

She swallowed, eyes darting to the garden like it might save her. “I’m not good at trusting. Last time I did, I got hurt.”

“Join the club,” I muttered, thinking of Brielle’s laugh in that motel parking lot.

“I’m serious, Rogue.”

“So am I, Riley.”

I shifted closer until our shoulders brushed. She didn’t pull away.

“I don’t do casual well,” she whispered. “I catch feelings.”

“Already caught mine,” I said before I could stop myself.

Her breath hitched. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough. You work hard. You don’t scare easy. You fought off a drunk prospect without flinching. And you make the bar shine like new money.”

She huffed. “That last part doesn’t scream soulmate material.”

“Shows backbone. Shows pride. Shows you give a damn. That’s rare.”

Lightning bugs flickered in the grass. Somewhere inside, Diesel barked orders and Pitbull grumbled about bleach burns.

Riley set her beer down and rested her chin on her knees. “I’m still not ready for anything serious.”

“Neither am I,” I admitted. “But maybe we just… see where it goes?”

Her lips curved. “I can handle ‘see.’ But no promises…”

I held up my bottle. “To no promises.”

She clinked hers against mine. “To surprises.”

We drank, letting the quiet settle—not awkward, not uncomfortable, just easy. And for the first time in months, I felt something like peace slide under my skin.

Garden beds. Porch swings. A woman who didn’t flinch when the world went loud.

Maybe the universe had a sense of humor after all.

Because damn if the toughest thing I’d faced in a long time wasn’t a five-foot-nothing barmaid with a bruise on her cheek and steel in her spine.

And I was already thinking about what kind of flowers she’d like come morning.

5

RILEY

The air in the bar felt heavier than usual. Like something was waiting to happen.

I’d just finished wiping down the back tables when I turned and nearly ran straight into Rogue. His broad chest blocked my view, his body heat rolling off him in waves. He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

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