Page 12 of The Biker and the Single Mom

"Sorry," I managed. "I shouldn't have⁠—"

"Don't." Her fingers tightened in my hair. "Don't apologize. Don't take it back."

"Rory—"

"I want this." Her words came fierce. "I want you. Not just the protection or the safety. You. All of you. The nightmares and the shaking hands and whatever else you think makes you not enough."

"I'm too damaged⁠—"

"You're not." She kissed me again, softer this time. "You're the strongest man I've ever met. You're gentle with my daughter. You're protecting us from my ex. You make me feel things I haven't felt in years." She pulled back, meeting my gaze. "Stay with me. Not just tonight. Stay for this. For us."

"I'm already yours." The confession tore out of me. "Have been since the first night. I just didn't think I had the right⁠—"

"You have the right." She straddled my lap, and my hands went to her hips automatically. "You have me, if you want me."

"Want you?" I nearly laughed. "I've been dying wanting you."

"Then stop dying." She kissed me again, deeper this time. "Live. With us. For us."

"Okay." The word felt like surrender and victory all at once. "Okay."

She smiled against my mouth.

My hands slid under her shirt, finding bare skin, warm and soft. "You're stuck with me now."

"Good." She rolled her hips, and I groaned. "Because I'm not letting you go."

We kissed until Luna called out from the bedroom, some nightmare I couldn't protect her from. Rory pulled away reluctantly, but I held her hand a moment longer.

"This changes things," I said.

"I know." She squeezed my fingers. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay." I let her go, watched her pad toward the bedroom to comfort her daughter. "It's everything."

And for the first time in three years, my hands didn't shake when I stood alone in my living room.

Because I wasn't alone anymore.

I had them.

And I'd burn the world down before I let anyone take them from me.

CHAPTER 4

RORY

Nearly two weeks living with Doc, and my entire life fit into three garbage bags.

I stood in his apartment—our apartment now—watching Hammer and Diesel haul in the last of my things from the storage unit. Everything I'd managed to salvage from my marriage to Matt reduced to this. Clothes. Books. Luna's toys. A whole life compressed down to what I could carry.

"That's the last of it," Hammer said, setting down a bag by the door. "You need anything else?"

"No, this is perfect. Thank you." I glanced around at the brothers who'd shown up to help without being asked. Doc's family had become ours so naturally I kept forgetting we'd only known them two weeks.

"Wait, wait!" Doc held up a hand before Luna could start unpacking. "I have something to show you first."

He led us to the living room, to the deep alcove I'd barely noticed before. Except now it held a small cot bed with a purple quilt, and tulle curtains hung from the ceiling to frame the opening. Fairy lights twinkled along the top edge, casting soft light over the cozy space.