King (Shadowridge Guardians MC #11)

2. King

TWO

KING

T he low growl of engines echoed through the streets as King and his brothers rumbled toward the clubhouse. The air was crisp, carrying the familiar aroma of pine that seemed to be the official scent of Shadowridge. That and cotton candy if you were anywhere near Main Street. His fingers flexed on the grips of his Harley, the steady vibrations of the machine grounding him.

Storm rode beside him, his blacked-out bike gliding effortlessly over the asphalt. Kade and Doc followed closely behind, the four moving as one. They’d spent the last couple of hours riding the curves of the surrounding mountains, letting the road stretch ahead of them, the hum of their bikes the only conversation needed. It was a good ride. A necessary one.

The clubhouse came into view, the glow of the Shadowridge Guardians’ emblem casting long shadows over the parking lot. As they rolled in, King caught sight of movement near the playground to the side of the clubhouse.

The Littles.

There were a handful of them, giggling and playing, their bright energy a stark contrast to the rough exterior of the MC. The Guardians protected their own, and the Littles of the club were family. They softened the edges of all the men.

He swung off his bike, running a hand through his short, dark hair before striding over with his brothers. Kade was already chuckling as his Little, Remi, ran straight for him, her arms outstretched. Storm scooped up his girl, Brook, spinning her in the air before settling her on his hip, her delighted laughter filling the space. Storm had really gotten soft since he’d met Brook. The man had been closed off and grumpy as hell before her, but now, he looked like he was truly living.

King felt a pull on his hand. He looked down to find Molly, one of the newer Littles, gazing up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“King, will you push me on the swings, please?” she asked sweetly.

He huffed out a low chuckle. “Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

After leading her to the swings, he helped her settle on one before stepping behind her, giving a gentle push. She kicked her legs, giggling as she went higher, her gentle curls bouncing with every movement.

He watched her, a strange warmth settling in his chest. He enjoyed this, being here, looking out for Littles, making sure they felt safe. It was part of what being a Guardian meant. Faust was her Daddy, but King still loved being part of Molly’s life. All the Littles’ lives, actually.

But as he stood there, hands steady on the swing’s chains, a tugging thought crept in, one that had been lingering in the back of his mind for longer than he cared to admit.

He wanted this . Not just to be the uncle who watched over his brothers’ Littles, but to have one of his own. Someone to come home to. Someone to take care of.

With a final push, he let Molly soar into the air before catching the swing, slowing it down carefully. “All right, cute stuff. I gotta head inside.”

Molly pouted slightly but nodded and gave him a brilliant smile. “Okay. Thank you for pushing me, King!”

He ruffled her hair lightly before making his way toward the clubhouse. The others were still by the playground, but he had to get ready for his shift. Firehouse duty didn’t wait for anyone.

Inside his apartment, he peeled off his cut, hanging it on the hook by the door. After showering and packing his bag, he flipped off the lights and let out a sigh, the heavy thoughts from earlier still there.

Maybe one day.

Maybe soon.

With a quiet sigh, King grabbed his keys and headed out.

The morning sun beamed through the open bay doors of the firehouse, the air laced with the scent of diesel and freshly brewed coffee. King stood at the back of the engine, restocking the med kit and checking supplies. His gloved hands moved on autopilot, pulling out expired bandages and replacing them with fresh ones, making sure the trauma shears were where they should be. Organization saved lives in this line of work, and King wasn’t the type to cut corners.

Across the bay, Jenkins and Moore bickered over whose turn it was to clean the kitchen, while Holt, the oldest and baldest man in the firehouse, leaned against the truck, sipping from a massive mug that proudly read World’s Sexiest Fireman. It was just another morning at the station.

“All right, listen up.” Captain Mendez’s deep voice rang through the space as he stepped out of his office. Instantly, the casual chatter died down. The man had that effect. Grizzled, sharp-eyed, with a presence that commanded attention. He deserved it, though. The man would never ask his men to do anything he wouldn’t, and King had always had immense respect for him because of that.

“The mayor’s coming by later today,” Mendez continued. “Bringing his new assistant. She’ll be helping with the city food drive, so they’re doing a walk-through to get a feel for the layout. She’ll be working out of one of the empty offices here part of the time.”

Ramos snorted. “Poor girl. Probably doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into being around a bunch of firemen.”

Holt grinned. “Wonder if she’ll take over cooking duty for me.”

King barely paid attention to the back-and-forth. It didn’t matter to him. She would be here to do a job just like he was. And while they guys were having fun talking crap now, King knew they’d be polite to the mayor’s assistant once she was there. The crew liked to talk big and bad, but they were a group of truly good men. It’s why he was proud to ride truck with all of them.

Hours later, when a sleek black town car pulled up outside the station and Mayor Winslow stepped out, followed by a petite woman with bright eyes and soft curls, King’s heart damn near stopped.

She was beautiful. Not only that, she was adorable, too. He wasn’t sure how she was both things at once, but she was.

Her outfit was professional, but there was something undeniably warm and soft about her. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and if he hadn’t been paying attention, he might have missed the small blue barrette tucked into it on one side of her part. Then there were the sparkly blue ballet flats she wore. Add in the blouse with bow-shaped buttons down the front and King could swear she was a Little.

And then she tripped.

It happened fast. One second, she was stepping out of the car; the next, her foot caught on the curb, and she went down with a startled squeak.

King was already moving.

She landed on her hands and knees, her expression a mix of embarrassment and mild horror. Before she could scramble to her feet, King crouched beside her.

“You okay?” His voice was steady as he scanned for any real injuries.

Her cheeks were flushed as she turned her scraped palm upward. “I, um… I meant to do that.”

King huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Sure, you did.”

She bit her lip, looking away. “I’m fine, really. Just… maybe a tiny bit mortified. Did everyone see? They did, didn’t they? So embarrassing. Sheesh. You’d think I’d be able to walk in flats. Maybe I should have worn heels, then I would have been fine.”

As she rambled, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so fucking cute. And funny.

“It’s not a big deal. Just a small owwie,” King assured her, already pulling an antiseptic wipe from his pocket. “Happens to the best of us.”

Gently, he took her hand, running the cool wipe over the graze. She hissed at the sting but didn’t pull away. Up close, she smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, something that didn’t belong in a place filled with smoke, sweat, and grease.

“I appreciate the rescue,” she murmured.

Then, as if remembering, she straightened her shoulders. “I’m Ella, by the way. Ella Carter.”

King glanced up, meeting her gaze. Something in his chest tightened.

Ella .

He didn’t know why, but the name settled over him like something familiar. Like something important.

He gave her palm one last careful swipe before nodding. “King.”

“King?” Her brows lifted. “That’s your name?”

“Yeah.”

Her lips quirked up in a smile. “Strong name.”

King felt the corner of his mouth twitch, but before he could respond, the mayor started introducing Ella to the rest of the firefighters.

King released Ella’s hand, but the entire time the mayor spoke, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even when they disappeared into the firehouse, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

One thing he knew for sure was that he had no idea how he was going to work around Ella and be able to concentrate.