Epilogue - Vivienne
Six Months Later
The early morning sun painted Julian's penthouse in shades of gold as I laced up my riding boots.
"Ready?" Julian asked, already dressed in his black riding gear, his gloves—tan leather today—holding my emerald green leather jacket open for me.
"More than ready," I said, unable to contain my excitement as he helped me into the jacket. "I can't wait to see Morgan again. It's been what, three weeks?"
"Since that charity gala where Archer threatened to murder the photographer who kept trying to get her to pose 'sexier,'" Julian said with a slight smile. "He's... protective."
"He's perfect for her," I corrected, grabbing my helmet. "And I'm glad you changed up the Sunday routine so I could actually get to know her better."
The new arrangement had been Julian's idea—he and Archer would arrive at the meeting spot early with Morgan and me, giving us time to catch up while the guys did their pre-ride checks.
It was a small accommodation, but it meant everything that Julian's brothers had welcomed us both into their sacred Sunday tradition.
The ride to today’s meeting spot—a scenic overlook about thirty minutes outside the city—was pure freedom.
I'd gotten comfortable riding with Julian over the past few months, learning to move with him, to trust his instincts, to understand why he found this meditative.
My arms wrapped around his waist, my body pressed against his back, feeling every shift and turn as we moved together through the morning air.
Archer and Morgan were already there when we arrived, Morgan's laughter carrying across the parking area as Archer said something that made her swat his arm playfully.
She looked radiant—her dark hair pulled back in a braid, wearing her red riding gear that was procured from Throttle & Thread, the luxury biker store that I recently learned Julian had worked with to create fashionable yet safe riding gear.
"Vivienne!" Morgan called out as I dismounted, leaving her helmet with Archer and moving toward me with open arms. "Finally! I was starting to think these Sunday rides were just an excuse for the boys to avoid adult conversation."
I laughed, accepting her hug. "How have you been? How's the new conservation project going?"
"Exhausting and amazing," Morgan said, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.
"We're working with a new company that creates automatic sand sifters for beaches to help with recycling.
Archer's been incredibly supportive, even though I’ve been working late with them the past few weeks on their marketing designs. "
"You’re working too hard," Archer called from where he and Julian were examining something on Julian's bike. "But that's why I love you."
Morgan rolled her eyes affectionately. "See what I deal with?"
We settled on a bench that overlooked the valley, the morning sun warming our faces as we caught up on the past few weeks.
Morgan told me about the past few companies she’d been able to work with, about how Archer had surprised her with a weekend trip to Napa to look at wedding venues now that they were engaged.
“How’s your next exhibit coming along?”
"Incredible," I said, and meant it completely.
"Margaret gave me complete creative freedom for the spring exhibition.
We're doing a whole series on fashion and activism—suffragettes, civil rights, Pride, labor movements.
And the educational programming has been beyond my wildest dreams. We've partnered with twelve schools so far, and we're developing curriculum materials that other galleries can use. "
"That's amazing, Viv. You're literally changing how people think about fashion and culture."
"It doesn't feel like work," I admitted. "It feels like I finally found what I was supposed to be doing all along."
The rumble of approaching motorcycles interrupted our conversation. Diesel and Hawk pulled into the lot, both of them waving as they parked and dismounted.
"Ladies!" Diesel called out, his beard even more impressive than I remembered from last month. "How are you both doing?"
"Good," I said, standing to greet them properly. "We’re excited to get out for a ride today, it’s been too long."
Hawk was quieter, as usual, but his nod of approval meant something coming from a man who rarely spoke unless he had something important to say. "You both picked it up quickly," he told me. "That takes trust."
"High praise from Hawk," Julian said, appearing at my side. His hand found the small of my back, that familiar gesture of connection that never failed to make me feel cherished.
We stood around chatting, waiting for Kane to arrive so we could start the ride.
The dynamic between all of them was comfortable, familiar—the easy camaraderie of people who'd been through hell together and come out the other side still standing.
Morgan and I had been gradually integrated into this brotherhood, accepted not despite being outsiders but because we understood what it meant to these men to have their Sundays, their rides, their chosen family.
"Where is Kane?" Archer checked his watch. "He's usually early."
"Maybe he finally got a life," Diesel suggested with a grin. "Man's been married to his security company for too long."
The words had barely left his mouth when another motorcycle appeared on the horizon—Kane's dark grey Ducati. But there was something different about his approach, something cautious in the way he took the curves.
As he got closer, I realized why. There was someone behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, a helmet obscuring her face.
The group went silent as Kane pulled in and parked.
He held the bike still so his passenger could get off the bike, before he kicked the footstand down and dismounted himself.
When the woman removed her helmet, she revealed dirty blonde hair tied back in a braid.
She had sharp cheekbones and intelligent eyes that seemed to laugh even as she scanned our group with curiosity.
"Everyone," Kane said, his voice carrying the same measured tone he always used but with an undertone I couldn't quite identify. "This is Skylar Exline. She's under my protection."
The silence that followed was loaded with unspoken questions. Kane didn't do personal relationships—at least not that any of us had seen. He was the man you called when you needed problems solved, security arranged, information gathered. He wasn't the man who brought women to sacred Sunday rides.
"Under your protection," Archer repeated carefully. "Kane, what's going on?"
Kane's jaw tightened slightly. "Someone's trying to kill her. I'm making sure they don't succeed."
Skylar shifted uncomfortably under our collective attention, but she met each of our gazes directly. There was something fierce in her expression, something that suggested she wasn't used to needing protection and didn't particularly like it.
"Well then," Morgan said, breaking the tension with her genuine warmth as she moved forward and extended her hand. "Welcome to the group, Skylar. I'm Morgan, this is Vivienne. We're the ones who've infiltrated the boys' club."
Skylar's hand was firm when she shook, her voice steady. "Nice to meet you both. Sorry for crashing your Sunday tradition."
"You're not crashing anything," I said, meaning it. "If Kane brought you here, you're welcome here."
I watched Kane's expression shift slightly at my words—surprise, maybe, or gratitude.
His hand rested on Skylar's lower back with the same protective gesture Julian used with me in unfamiliar group situations, and I realized with sudden clarity that whatever was happening between them, it was more than just professional protection.
"So," Diesel said, his voice carefully casual. "Someone's trying to kill you. That's quite an opening line."
"It's been an interesting few weeks," Skylar said dryly.
Julian's hand tightened slightly on my waist, and I glanced up to see him exchanging looks with Archer and Hawk.
They were shifting into protective mode, Julian had that same look in his eye when he had confronted the men at my parents' house.
It seemed that just like Morgan and I had these men to watch our backs, that same protection now extended to this stranger Kane had brought into our circle.
"We should ride," Kane said. "We can talk after. Skylar's been learning, but this is only her second time on a bike."
"Stick close," Archer told Kane. "We'll keep it easy today."
As Julian and I mounted his bike and prepared to head out, I caught Morgan's eye. She raised her eyebrows slightly, clearly thinking the same thing I was—that Kane bringing a woman he was protecting to his Sunday ride was significant in ways we probably didn't fully understand yet.
But as we pulled out onto the open road, my arms wrapped around Julian's waist, the morning sun warm on our faces and the familiar rumble of engines surrounding us, I felt the rightness of it all.
This group of people—Julian's chosen family, who'd become mine by extension—understood what it meant to protect the people who mattered.
To show up, to stand together, to create safety in a world that didn't always offer it.
Six months ago, I'd been a high school teacher with a carefully controlled life and no idea that everything was about to change. Now I was riding behind the man I loved, heading toward a future that was bigger and brighter than anything I'd imagined.
And judging by the way Kane kept Skylar in the middle of our group instead of riding at the back like he usually did, someone else's life was about to change too.
I tightened my arms around Julian and pressed closer to his back, feeling the bike respond beneath us. Whatever came next—for me, for Morgan and Archer, for Kane and Skylar—we'd face it the way this family always did.
Together, on the open road, with nothing but possibility ahead.
Thank you for reading Gloved Secrets!