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The loud, grumbling roar of a pair of motorcycles decelerating, coming up to the front gate, shattered her peace of mind and moment of tranquility. As Tessa watched, a man rode up on a bike that looked to be the one from Kayla’s drawing, with another bike right behind it. Both men wore jeans, work shirts, and heavy black leather boots. They were muscular and of similar size and build. When they removed their helmets, she saw the main difference between them, besides facial features, was that one wore his blond hair cut short, and the other had longer, darker blond hair confined in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck.
As they shut off the engines and got off their bikes to face the school, Tessa was struck by their muscular appearance and the confident stances that declared to the world they had the right to be exactly where they were.
“Uncle Ronan! Uncle Jett!” Kayla ran headlong straight for the men, trailing her backpack behind her in one hand. Tessa saw the man with short blond hair break into a huge grin. He spread his arms wide and captured the flying girl in them and swung her around. She laughed hysterically, and her feet made a wide circle.
When he put Kayla down, the one with longer hair that she assumed was Jett picked up the girl in a similar maneuver, making her giggle again.
When Kayla was safely on the ground, the men seemed to notice Tessa watching them. The one she tentatively labeled as Ronan bent down and spoke to Kayla, pointing in Tessa’s direction. Kayla looked at her, nodded and said something to him as Jett frowned slightly
The men started walking toward Tessa in long strides. She braced herself, having no idea what to expect. “Ronan Vonn,” one said cheerfully, holding out a large hand.
“Jett Saylor,” said the one with longer hair, nodding as he nudged aside his friend to offer his hand.
“Tessa Lee,” she said, shaking Ronan’s hand first, noting his pale blue eyes—Kayla’s eyes. The man’s calm manner surprised her. The contrast between his wild appearance and gentle manner was stunning. Before she could fall into a ridiculous trance of lustful staring, Jett moved his friend aside more forcefully and stood in front of her. He had mesmerizing green eyes that felt like they pierced her soul.
She shook his hand on autopilot and looked away to break the spell. What was wrong with her, noticing these men in this way? They certainly weren’t her type. Her last boyfriend had been an IRS auditor, for goodness sake.
Ronan cleared his throat to regain her attention. “I wanted to introduce myself and not just take off with the grease princess here. I could imagine having a stranger show up unannounced to get a kid must be unsettling.”
“Yes. We take our responsibility for them rather seriously.”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a folded paper. “We figured as much, so Willow wrote a note, just in case anyone didn’t like the idea of me and Jett swooping off with a student.”
“Willow?”
“Her mom.”
“My sister,” inserted Jett, reminding Tessa he was actually a foster brother, but the distinction didn’t seem to matter to Jett.
Ronan ignored Jett’s contribution. “She has to take Linc to therapy, if she can get the stubborn bum to go.”
“Kayla said her father was injured in an accident.”
“Right. He’s going to survive, but he doesn’t get around well. Messed his legs up in ways the doctors aren’t sure they can fix, or to what extent they can fix them. A lot depends on him, and he’s not in a great place. Linc is a handful when he’s feeling good, so I figured her mom could use a little less to deal with right now.”
“You take her to a garage?”
“Where we work. Then, at the end of the day, me or Jett takes her home. She seems to enjoy our time together, and she’s practically my apprentice anyway, so with Willow busy, I offered to take care of making sure she gets to and from school safely.”
“And she has an eye for detail.” Jett flashed a smile that was full of pride. “I let her do some custom trim work last week for a paying client. He couldn’t tell where my work ended and hers began.”
She tried to hide her grimace of displeasure, imagining the girl putting in countless hours of free labor that wouldn’t be allowed if she weren’t related to them. Tessa glanced at the paper and saw it was an authorization to pick up the girl. She looked past Ronan and Jett to the girl, who was now perched on the back of the big motorcycle, swinging her legs impatiently. Tessa frowned. “You’ll get her home safely on that thing?”
Ronan followed her gaze and laughed. “Yeah, safely.”
“But your brother had a fall…”
“Oh, the kid’s safe, believe me. She’s got more hours on a bike than most people you know as it is. You can’t totally prevent accidents, but I’m extra careful with that precious cargo.”
“She looks so unprotected on that… thing.”
Jett frowned, clearly not liking her tone. He sounded a little defensive when he said, “The truth is that Linc’s fall shouldn’t have happened. It was his own fault. And it’s the case that accidents happen whether you’re in a car or on a bike. People are aware that a bike is a lot less forgiving in an accident, and they equate that with unsafe. The truth is that it’s a better vehicle, a safer one, in terms of avoiding accidents. It’s more responsive, and you’ve got better visibility and maneuverability. Linc screwed up. He got careless, and if that happens, it doesn’t matter if you’re on a bike or in a tank.” He glanced back at Kayla. “Anyway, we better get the grease princess back to the garage before she blows a gasket.”
“Grease princess?”
“Yeah, the guys in the club like to give everyone a nickname,” said Ronan. “They call me Clutch because I fix things.”
She looked at Jett. “What do they call you?”
