8. Zane
8
ZANE
School pickup’s not exactly prime biker territory. Mothers in minivans give my Harley a side-eye as I lean against it, waiting. But when Owen begged me to see “Violet’s new kingdom”—his words—I couldn’t say no.
The playground is busy with after-school energy. Through the fence, I spot Violet holding court by the slide, directing kids twice her size with the confidence of a natural leader. Daisy sits cross-legged nearby, notebook in hand, apparently keeping score of whatever complex game her sister’s invented.
“Did you hear?” a mom in yoga pants stage-whispers to her friend. “The new woman? Someone said they saw tattoos all up her arms.”
“Single mother too,” her friend clucks. “Those poor girls.”
My jaw tightens. They don’t see what I see—that Evie’s girls are the most well-behaved girls I’ve ever met. Only a good mother can achieve this.
“Order in the kingdom!” Violet’s voice carries across the yard. “Princess Owen needs a dragon!”
I can’t help grinning. Owen, wearing what looks like a paper crown, seems perfectly happy taking orders from a four-year-old queen.
“Uncle Zane!” He spots me and waves. “Come see! I’m a princess!”
Several mothers shoot me alarmed looks as I cross the playground. Their whispers follow—tattoos, motorcycle… They can kiss my ass.
“Your Majesty.” I bow to Violet, who beams like I’ve made her whole day. “Nice kingdom you’ve got here.”
“We have dragons,” she informs me seriously. “And unicorns. And Owen’s the princess because he has the prettiest crown.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” I settle on the bench beside Daisy. “What’s the score?”
She shows me her notebook, filled with surprisingly complex tallies. “Dragons are winning, but the unicorns have more magic points.”
“Naturally.”
The playground gate squeaks, and there’s Evie. Today’s pantsuit can’t quite hide the ink on her wrists, but it does amazing things for her curves. Not that I’m looking. Much.
“Mama!” Violet launches herself at her mother. “Uncle Zane came to see my kingdom!”
Something soft crosses Evie’s face when she looks at me. “Did he now?”
“Owen’s the princess,” Daisy explains, packing up her scorekeeping supplies.
“Best princess in the realm,” I confirm. Owen grins, crown askew.
The other mothers whisper behind their hands as we move to the parking lot. Evie’s shoulders tense slightly—she’s heard them too. Before I can say something stupid, her truck makes a sound like angry metal, meeting angrier metal.
“Not again.” She kicks the tire in frustration. “I only just got it back.”
The rest of the moms clear out, throwing final judgmental glances our way. Good riddance.
“Pop the hood,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
“You don’t have to—” Evie starts, but Violet interrupts.
“Let him fix it, Mama! He knows everything about engines. He showed me the shiny parts in his bike last week!”
“Everything, huh?” Evie’s eyebrow rises, but she’s fighting a smile.
“Uncle Zane’s the best,” Owen adds loyally. “He fixed my skateboard.”
“With duct tape,” Daisy points out.
I wink at her. “Hey, that repair’s holding strong, isn’t it?”
The late afternoon sun catches Evie’s hair as she laughs. Something in my chest tightens at the sound. She’s been here, what, a month? Already, her girls feel like part of our weird extended family.
“Fine.” She pops the hood. “Work your magic, motorcycle man.”
The engine’s still hot when I lean in. Evie moves beside me, close enough that her perfume mingles with motor oil. It shouldn’t be sexy. It really shouldn’t.
“See this?” I point to the belt. “It’s loose. Makes that screaming sound when you accelerate.”
“Like a banshee,” Violet supplies helpfully. She’s wedged herself between us, trying to climb up on the bumper so she can see.
“Exactly like a banshee.” I ruffle her hair, picking her up so she can peer into the truck with us. “Want to learn how to fix it?”
Her eyes light up. “Can I?”
“Violet.” Evie’s warning tone holds a mother’s concern. “You’ll get dirty.”
“Good.” I grab a wrench from my bike’s tool kit. “Every queen should know basic car repair. Right, Your Majesty?”
Evie’s expression softens as she watches me show her daughter the basics.
“The belt goes here?” She points.
“Smart girl.” I adjust her grip on the wrench. “Just like that.”
Even Daisy drifts closer, her natural curiosity winning over proper princess behavior. Owen’s already got grease on his paper crown.
“You have a way with them,” Evie says quietly.
“Nah. They’re good kids.” I try to ignore how close she’s standing. “Smart. Brave. Like their mom.”
Pink touches her cheeks. Before she can respond, her engine makes that unholy sound again.
“Here.” I guide her hand to the wrench. “Feel that? Too loose.”
Her fingers are warm under mine. When she shifts to get a better angle, her hip brushes my thigh. The touch sends heat straight through me.
“Is it fixed?” Violet demands, breaking the moment.
I clear my throat. “Almost. Just needs…” But Evie’s still pressed against me, and suddenly, basic truck repair feels a lot more complicated.
“Children!” A sharp voice cuts through the parking lot. “The after-school program is starting!”
Owen’s teacher waves from the doorway. Time for his art class—the reason I’m supposed to be here in the first place.
“Coming!” He hugs Violet quickly. “See you tomorrow, Queen V!”
“Don’t forget your crown tomorrow,” she calls after him. “The kingdom needs its princess!”
I watch him go, aware of Evie’s eyes on me. “You didn’t have to stay,” she says softly. “After dropping Owen off.”
“Maybe I wanted to.”
Something changes in her expression. She opens her mouth to respond, but Violet tugs her sleeve.
“Mama, can Uncle Zane come over? He can teach me more about engines!”
“Baby, I’m sure he has plans?—”
“Actually.” I close the hood, trying to sound casual. “I could take a look at that transmission noise too. If you want.”
Our eyes meet over Violet’s head.
“Please, Mama?” Both girls are now using those deadly puppy eyes.
Evie’s lips curve. “Well, if it’s for educational purposes…”
I follow her truck home, my bike rumbling beneath me. The sun sets behind Wolf Pike’s mountains, painting everything gold.
Something’s happening here. Something that has nothing to do with loose belts or broken transmissions.
And for once in my life, I’m not in a hurry to rush it.
From this angle, her driveway feels different. Usually, I’m next door, watching her come and go. Now, she’s leading us inside, and the girls chatter about showing me their toys in the living room.
“Homework first,” Evie reminds them. Both girls groan but obey, heading upstairs with their backpacks.
“They always listen that well?” I follow her to the kitchen.
“Only when they want something.” She fills the kettle. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” I lean against her counter, watching her move around her space. “So about that transmission…”
“We both know there’s nothing wrong with my transmission.” She sets two mugs down. Her eyes meet mine, challenging.
Heat crawls up my neck. “Could still take a look.”
“At what exactly?”
Christ. The way she says it makes my mouth go dry.
Footsteps thunder down the stairs. “Done!” Violet announces.
“Already?” Evie’s eyebrow rises. “Show me.”
While she checks their work, I wander into her kitchen. On the fridge, I see a single family photo of the three of them standing in front of this house.
“Uncle Zane!” Violet tugs my hand. “Come see my room! I have a whole garage for my toy cars!”
Her room’s exactly what I’d expect—organized chaos. Toy cars mixed with princess crowns. A workbench beside a dollhouse.
“This is my favorite.” She hands me a beat-up Hot Wheels car. “It goes super fast.”
“Yeah?” I examine it seriously. “Good suspension. Nice paint job.”
“Can you fix cars like you fix bikes?”
“Most of them.” I set the toy down carefully. “Your mom’s truck is pretty simple.”
“Is that why you’re really here?” Daisy appears in the doorway. Sometimes, she’s too perceptive for a six-year-old.
Heat creeps up my neck again. “Just being neighborly.”
Daisy’s expression says she doesn’t buy it, but she just shrugs. “Mama made sandwiches.”
I call Draven, who tells me that he’s already picked up his son from school.
Dinner’s casual—peanut butter and jelly because Evie hasn’t had time to shop. The girls dominate the conversation, telling me about their kingdom’s complex political structure.
“The unicorns have voting rights,” Violet explains around a mouthful.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” Evie wipes jelly from her chin. The simple gesture makes something in my chest ache.
Later, after dishes and more car talk, Evie herds the girls toward bedtime. I should leave. Instead, I find myself helping with bedtime stories.
“One more?” Violet pleads.
“Tomorrow.” Evie kisses her forehead. “Sleep tight, my queen.”
In the hallway, she pauses. “Thank you for today.”
“They make it easy.” I follow her downstairs. “Smart kids.”
“Too smart sometimes.” She leads me to the front door, but neither of us reaches for the handle.
The house settles around us. Through the window, I can see my bedroom light on next door. Feels like another world.
“I should check that transmission.” My voice comes out rough.
“Zane.” Just my name, but the way she says it…
This time, when I step closer, she doesn’t back away. Her pulse jumps under my fingers as I trace her jaw.
She kisses me.
My hands find her hips, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens. She makes a small sound that drives me crazy.
“Mama?” Daisy’s voice drifts from upstairs. “Can I have water?”
We break apart, both breathing hard. Evie’s lips are swollen, her eyes dark.
“Coming, baby!” she calls back, not looking away from me.
“I should go.” But I don’t move.
“Probably.” Her fingers trail down my chest. “This is…”
“Complicated?”
She laughs softly. “That’s one word for it.”
“Mama!”
“Go.” I steal one more quick kiss. “Before your subjects revolt.”
At my bike, I look back. She stands in the doorway, illuminated by porch light.
Whatever this is, it’s just beginning.