Page 9 of My Protective Biker

Watching them together does something warm to my chest.

"What made you choose Bloomfield?" Zoe asks eventually. "It's kind of in the middle of nowhere."

"That was part of the appeal." I glance at Roan and find him watching me. "I was in Harrisburg for two years and the city felt too loud. Too anonymous. When Dr. Morris's practice went up for sale here, it seemed right. Smaller, more manageable."

"Do you miss it?" This from Roan, quiet but weighted.

I think about it, wanting to be honest. "Not really. I miss some of the convenience maybe, but I don't miss feeling invisible. Here feels more real."

He nods like that makes sense to him, and something in his expression suggests he understands exactly what I mean.

The conversation shifts and I tell them about Hamlet's progress, about the beagle who's currently furious with me over this morning's anal gland expression, which makes Zoe laugh hard enough she nearly chokes on her water.

By eight-thirty we're clearing the table and Roan is at the sink washing dishes while I dry them.

Zoe keeps up a steady stream of talk about the bookstore, about Mrs. Patterson and her romance novels, about a shipment that came in today.

There's an ease to how we all move around each other in the small kitchen, like the space knows how to accommodate three people even though it was built for two.

Around nine-thirty Zoe grabs her laptop from the living room. "I've got coursework. You guys don't have to leave or anything, I'll just be in my room if you need me."

Her door closes down the hallway and suddenly it's just us in his kitchen.

"Living room?" he asks.

"Yeah."

I follow him to the couch and sit down, leaving space between us. He sits at the other end, one arm stretched along the back, his body angled toward me.

For a moment neither of us says anything. The house is quiet except for the hum of the window unit and cicadas outside.

"She likes you," he says finally.

"I like her. She's smart and she's kind and you clearly did something right."

Something in his expression shifts. "I tried."

"More than tried." I turn to face him more fully. "She's confident without being arrogant, she's warm without being naive, and she trusts you completely. That doesn't happen by accident."

He's quiet for a moment, deciding something. "Her mother left when she was pregnant. Didn't tell me. I found out through someone who knew someone when Zoe was six weeks old. Drove four hours to a motel in Scranton and came back with a baby I had no idea how to take care of."

I try to imagine being twenty-two and suddenly responsible for an infant. "That must have been terrifying."

"It was." He looks at me directly. "Made a decision on that drive back. Whatever I felt about Mara leaving, about being that scared, I'd feel it once and then set it aside. Because Zoe needed a father who was present, not one stuck processing."

The honesty hits me hard. "Did it work?"

"Mostly." A pause. "Cost me some things. But she was worth it."

Twenty years of putting someone else first, of building his entire life around being exactly what his daughter needed.

I can see the result in every photo on the wall and the way Zoe talks to him without hesitation.

"What about you?" he asks. "You said you left Harrisburg. What were you leaving?"

I match his honesty. "A relationship where I slowly disappeared. He was a good guy, nothing dramatic, but I spent eighteen months making myself smaller to fit his life. I didn't notice until I couldn't recognize myself anymore."

"So you left."