Chapter Three
Dasher adjusted the throttle on his bike as he waited outside the hardware store, glancing at his phone for the time. Ellie was late only by three minutes, but he noticed. He always noticed everything about her.
He spotted her silver sedan pulling in, the same car she’d probably had since the last time they were in each other’s lives. A sensible car for a sensible woman. Except Ellie had never been just sensible.
She was passion, fire, grit wrapped in a pretty bow. And she was walking toward him now with that same purposeful stride that had once made his pulse jump. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head.
“Sorry. Traffic near the high school was a mess,” Ellie said.
Dasher nodded, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “You’re here. That’s what counts,” he told her.
She gave him a look, the kind that probably worked wonders on her daughter when Maddy didn’t clean up her toys. “Don’t charm me. We’ve got seven days to pull this off,” she reminded him.
Dasher lifted a brow. “Didn’t say a word.”
She snorted, and damn if the sound didn’t squeeze something warm in his chest.
The two of them walked in, side by side, and were greeted by the store manager. Dasher let Ellie take the lead. She was good at this, polished and firm without being cold.
He watched her negotiate, offer up flyers, explain the toy drive, all while flashing that earnest smile. By the time they left with a promise of a donation and a stack of coloring books, Dasher was impressed all over again.
“You’re good at that,” he said as they stepped back into the sun.
Ellie gave him a wary glance. “Good at begging for help?”
“Good at making people care,” Dasher said. “Takes heart.”
She faltered for a second. Just a flicker, but he saw it. Her guard came back up just as quickly. “We’ll need it. We’ve got five more stops today, right?” she asked.
He nodded, but didn’t miss the way her shoulder brushed his when they walked. That part hadn’t changed either. The way her presence filled a space, seeped under his skin. It used to make him reckless.
They hit a grocery store, a bookstore, and the local diner. Some owners gave cash, others small toys, and a few flat-out said no. Through it all, Ellie stayed determined, organized, and unflinchingly polite.
Dasher admired the hell out of her grit. Somewhere between the diner and the bookstore, he stopped pretending this wasn’t affecting him. Because the heat between them hadn’t faded. It just simmered now, low and steady, waiting for the right spark.
They paused in front of a bakery next, and Dasher finally said it. “You ever think about the past?”
Ellie turned slowly, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. “You mean, you and me?”
“Yeah,” Dasher nodded.
A long beat. Then she exhaled. “Sometimes.”
They stood like that for a second. Not touching. Not moving. But Dasher felt the weight of the history between them settle into the air.
“I was stupid back then,” he said. “Didn’t know what I had.”
“You had a patch and a death wish,” Ellie said, but her voice was soft. Not angry. “And I had plans that didn’t involve hospital visits and shoot-outs.”
Dasher chuckled, dry. “Still don’t.”
“You left,” she said quietly. “You chose the club.”
Dasher wasn’t surprised she reminded him of that fact again. He didn’t blame her. She was probably still angry about it and had every right to be.
“I did.” He didn’t try to lie. “And I still would. But maybe I didn’t have to lose you to keep it.”
Her eyes flashed, then softened. “That’s not how it works, Dasher.”
“I know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I still think about it.”
They didn’t talk more after that, just collected the promised toys and made their way to the final stop: a small coffee shop tucked between the gym and a tattoo parlor.
It was the kind of place where all the mugs were mismatched, the floor creaked, and the smell of espresso hit you before the bell on the door rang.
While Ellie chatted with the barista, Dasher scanned the room. And that’s when he saw a guy leaning against a lamppost across the street. Leather cut with a rival club’s patch, casually smoking and pretending not to look straight at Dasher. Red Hounds. His jaw tensed.
When Ellie returned, to-go cup in hand, Dasher murmured, “We need to go.”
“What—”
“Across the street. Don’t look. Just move,” he ordered.
Her eyes widened, but she followed him out, and they rounded the corner before he slowed.
“A member of the Red Hounds MC,” he said quietly. “Watching.”
Ellie swallowed hard. “You think they’re the ones who broke into the storage unit?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Could be they’re testing boundaries,” Dasher said with a shrug.
“Why now?” Ellie demanded.
“Because holidays mean press. Attention. Toy drive gets the community on our side. Makes it harder for the Hounds to make a move without getting blowback,” Dasher explained.
Ellie shook her head. “This isn’t what I signed up for.”
“You didn’t sign up for anything,” Dasher said. “And I’m not dragging you into a war. But I’m not letting you go back to that unit alone either.”
Her expression was unreadable for a second, then softened. “You always were the protector.”
“Still am,” he told her.
They drove back in silence. Ellie dropped her cup into the car’s holder with more force than necessary. “What are we even doing, Dasher?”
“Working together,” he said. “Getting this drive done.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.” He looked over at her, heat behind his words. “I’m just trying to keep it simple. But nothing about you’s ever been simple for me.”
For a second, he saw it. That flicker of longing. Then she pulled the mask back on.
“Let’s just get through this week,” Ellie said.
He nodded, but in his gut, he knew the truth.
This week wasn’t the end. This was just the start of something he should’ve fought for five years ago. And this time, he wasn’t walking away.
****
The sky was already bruising purple by the time they wrapped up their last stop, a small hardware store that promised a box of unopened toys from last season’s shelves. Ellie tugged her coat tighter as they stepped out onto the sidewalk.
She was tired, her cheeks pink from the cold, her mind spinning from everything.
Dasher’s nearness, his easy smile, the way he spoke to the shopkeepers like nothing had changed.
Like five years hadn’t passed. Like her heart hadn’t once shattered into a thousand pieces the night he chose the MC over their future.
Now, here he was again, trailing close behind her, his warm voice in her ear earlier still echoing.
“We won’t let anything happen to your toy drive,” he told her.
She didn’t want to believe him, but somehow she did. And that scared her more than anything.
“You need a ride home?” he asked, his breath fogging in the cold air.
Ellie hesitated. “No, I’m good. I’ll call my mom to pick me up.”
“You sure?” He gestured toward his bike. “Not the worst way to end a long day.”
“I’m not getting on that thing.” Her tone came out sharper than she intended.
Dasher held up both hands. “All right, all right.”
But then the first snowflake fell. Then another. Within moments, the sky opened up in a gentle flurry, and the wind picked up, cutting through her coat. Her phone buzzed. There was no signal. Of course.
She glanced at Dasher, who was watching her with that half-smirk she remembered too well. It used to drive her wild. It still kind of did.
“Fine,” she muttered, pulling her scarf up. “But if we crash and I lose a limb, I’m haunting you forever.”
“Noted,” he said, already unhooking a spare helmet from the back.
The ride home was quiet. The good kind. She held onto him tighter than necessary, more from the cold than anything, she told herself. Still, the way her fingers curled against his chest, the way her cheek rested against his back, there was no denying how right it felt. How familiar.
With each twist of the road, her heart thudded a little harder. Not from fear. From remembering.
Dasher pulled up to the curb in front of her house, tires crunching on fresh snow. The porch light was on. Warm, golden. A safe haven. He helped her off, and for a beat, they stood in silence.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, pulling off the helmet and handing it back.
He didn’t take it right away. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“About earlier,” he added, voice low. “That rival MC ... we’ll keep eyes on ‘em. You don’t need to worry.”
“I don’t want any violence,” she said, arms crossing. “This toy drive isn’t just for show, Dasher. These kids count on it. I’m not going to let some turf war ruin that.”
“Neither will I,” he said. “You have my word.”
Ellie studied him. The scar on his temple, the steel in his jaw. But also, the honesty in his eyes. She hated how easily her heart still recognized him.
“C’mon,” she sighed. “You should at least come say hi. My mom’ll wonder who dropped me off.”
He raised a brow. “Won’t I scare her off?”
Ellie huffed a laugh. “You’d be surprised.”
Inside, the house smelled like tomato soup and garlic bread. Maddy’s laughter rang from the kitchen. Ellie’s mom, still in her fuzzy house slippers, looked up from stirring a pot on the stove.
“Oh good,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “You made it back—” Her eyes landed on Dasher behind Ellie. “—and brought a guest?”
Ellie cleared her throat. “Mom, you remember Dasher.”
“Barely,” her mother said, then smiled. “But I do remember how much Ellie used to moon over you.”
“Mom!” Ellie hissed, cheeks flaming.
Dasher chuckled, stepping forward to shake her hand. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”
“Judy,” she said, shaking back. “You’re older now. Less leather, more scruff.”
He grinned. “Working on the intimidation factor.”
“You bikers and your brand,” she mused, then turned to the sound of fast-approaching footsteps. “Maddy, come meet Mommy’s friend.”
Ellie’s heart skipped a beat. Dasher’s posture straightened. The little girl rounded the corner in candy-cane pajamas, curls wild from play. She stopped short when she saw him.
“This is Dasher,” Ellie said gently, crouching beside her daughter. “He gave me a ride home.”
Dasher crouched, too, not too close. “Hey, sweetheart. You like bikes?”
Maddy eyed him warily. “Mommy says they’re loud.”
“She’s not wrong,” he said with a wink. “But they’re fun if you wear the right helmet.”
Maddy giggled, just a little. Dasher smiled, and something in Ellie’s chest pulled tight. It was too much. Too soon.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Judy called. “You staying, Dasher?”
He looked at Ellie. She opened her mouth to say no. But for a second, she pictured it, him at the table, passing the bread, making Maddy laugh. A slice of something normal. Domestic.
“Rain check,” Dasher said before she could speak. “Got club stuff to handle.”
“Of course,” Judy said, and turned back to the stove.
Ellie walked him back to the door. Snow was falling harder now, dusting his jacket and hair.
“Thanks again,” she said softly.
He met her eyes. “You’re doing a good thing, Ellie. That drive matters.”
“I know,” she answered.
He took a step closer. Not touching her, not quite. “I missed you,” he murmured.
Her breath caught.
“But I’m not pushing,” he added. “You’ve got a life now. A kid. I get it.”
Ellie’s heart thundered. She wanted to tell him, “Me too.” Wanted to tell him it hurt like hell seeing him again. That he still had a piece of her she never really got back.
Instead, she nodded. “Good night, Dasher.”
“Night, Ellie,” he said.
He turned and walked into the snow.
She closed the door slowly behind him and leaned back against it, eyes closed, heart full of noise. Her mom passed by with two bowls of soup.
“You all right, honey?”
Ellie opened her eyes. “No,” she replied.
Judy smiled gently. “Still got it really bad, huh?”
Ellie couldn’t even argue.
Upstairs later, after tucking Maddy in and cleaning up from dinner, she stood by her bedroom window, watching the snow pile up. Dasher’s tire tracks had already vanished.
She wanted to pretend none of this mattered. That she hadn’t felt anything on that ride. That her heart hadn’t fluttered when he met Maddy’s eyes and smiled so gently. But it did. She did.
She touched the glass, cool under her palm, and whispered to no one, “This can’t be happening again.”