Page 11 of Contracted to the Bikers

Jessy slides down from my arms and immediately goes up to Rook. “I’m Jessy,” she announces, holding out her hand to shake the way she’s seen me do countless times. She knows all about stranger danger, and normally she’s shy around people she doesn’t know, so I’m a bit taken aback by her response.

“Well, Jessy,” Rook says, bending down to her height and shaking her hand. His giant baseball mitt hands dwarf hers, but he’s surprisingly gentle. “Welcome to the Iron Vale clubhouse.”

Jessy beams as the other two men introduce themselves. Now that I’m looking properly, I notice how different the three men are. Cruz is leaner than the others, built more like a fighter than a mechanic. He has dark, cropped hair and sharp features, with intelligent eyes that seem to be constantly solving puzzles. He’s attractive in a polished, dangerous way, like the kind of man who knows exactly the effect he has on women when he smiles, which he does a lot.

Then there’s Boone. He’s barely said two words since I got here, just quietly observing. He’s a giant of a man. Not just tall but wide and solid. The kind of man who looks like he could lift a motorcycle without particularly trying, and probably does. His beard is thick and dark blond, his light hair a little longer than the others, and his forearms are covered in faded tattoos. Grease stains his hands, the hands of a working man, and a fighter. In short, he looks intimidating.

That is, until Jessy walks toward him. “Do you like dinosaurs?” she asks, scrunching up her face and tilting her head as she studies him.

Boone blinks, as if surprised to be addressed. He considers the question, and, understanding its importance to Jessy, he crouches down so they’re at eye level. “Yeah,” he says calmly. “Dinosaurs are pretty cool. My favorite is the Brachiosaurus.”

The fact that he didn’t say T. rex just won him major points. Jessy immediately lights up like someone flipped a switch. “I love dinosaurs! I have twelve.”

“Twelve?”

“I brought my twelve bestest. Mommy made me leave the rest at home.”

Boone nods solemnly. “Sounds pretty smart, can’t have too many dinosaurs in one place, they might fight.”

“Oh, they’ll still fight,” Jessy assures him. To my surprise, she takes his massive paw in her tiny hand and drags him over to a table, babbling about her dinosaurs and proceeding to take them out of her backpack in turn, showing him each one and telling him their names and what they like to eat. Boone listens intently, asking questions as if he truly cares.

I watch the interaction with something close to disbelief. My six-year-old has known this man for about thirty seconds and has already decided he’s trustworthy, which, annoyingly, makes me want to trust him, too. Despite my worries about being here, it’s hard not to find the way he interacts with her endearing.

Rook notices me watching, but I can’t decipher his expression. “Rooms are upstairs,” he says.

“Good. Jessy, come on, you can show him your dinosaurs later.” Jessy grumbles, but I give her my don’t-mess-with-me-glare, and Boone quietly distracts her with promises of something interesting upstairs, so she stops protesting.

Rook gestures toward a wide staircase along the wall. “Come on.”

Jessy grabs my hand with one hand and drags Boone along with the other. “You still have to see my Velociraptor,” she informs him.

Boone glances at me like he’s asking permission. I nod, and he lets Jessy tow him up the stairs.

Cruz chuckles as he follows behind. “You realize,” he says to me, “That your kid just adopted Boone.”

I frown. “That seems likely.” As nice as it is for her to feel safe here, I don’t know how comfortable I am yet with her being too attached to them. Hopefully, this isn’t a permanent solution.

Rook walks beside me up the stairs, standing too close for my comfort, though with anyone else it would be perfectly fine. I can feel the heat from his arm through the sleeve of my jacket. “Your cheeks are pink,” he tells me, his voice smug.

“I’m hot,” I snap, we both know it’s a lie.

He smiles faintly. “Sure you are.” His words make me blush even deeper.

We reach the top of the stairs and step into a long hallway with several doors. The wood floors creak slightly under our feet. Jessy immediately bursts into the first room Boone opens. “Oh!” The room is simple but clean, with two beds, a dresser, and a window overlooking the compound yard. Jessy runs straight to the window, pressing her nose against the glass, leaving a smudge, then pulls back to face us, beaming. “I can see motorcycles!”

Boone leans against the wall beside the door, arms folded loosely. “Yeah,” he says. “There are a lot around here.” He says this without sounding sarcastic, a small miracle.

Jessy pulls her favorite dinosaur from her backpack and shows it to him. “This is Trixy.”

Boone studies the toy seriously. “Good name. Everyone else calls T. rexes boring names, like Rex.”

Jessy positively glows at the compliment.

Cruz leans in the doorway. “You’re stuck playing babysitter now, brother,” he tells Boone.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a shrug, which further serves to endear him to me, not that I show it.

I step further into the room, taking in the details. It’s functional and clean, but most importantly, it’s safe, which matters more than comfort right now.