My Three Hometown Bikers (Aspen Springs #5)

Prologue

KANE

THREE YEARS AGO

“Another one, son?” the older man behind the bar asks, dragging a rag over the aged wood between us.

My eyes track down to the empty glass in front of me. I didn’t even realize I had finished the drink. My thoughts are far from this hole-in-the-wall bar at the moment, though, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

They’re about three hours away from here with a little brown-haired boy who has my whole heart, but who I can’t be with this weekend.

“Sure,” I tell him, giving him my best attempt at a smile.

With a nod, he turns to grab the whiskey bottle and pours me a few fingers of the amber liquid.

“Hard day?” he asks, settling the bottle back onto the rack. I don’t say anything at first, but my expression must give everything away. He lets out a small chuckle. “I’ve been there. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll get through it.”

I look up from my glass and meet his gaze. I don’t know how old he is, but based on his smile lines and heavily graying beard, I would venture to guess he’s in his sixties.

I take a sip of my drink. “I sure hope so because this fucking sucks right now.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ve been there, kid. Believe me. It will get better.”

Kid. At thirty-six, I am far from the age most would call someone a kid. I haven’t had that word associated with me in over a decade.

I have my own son, for Pete’s sake. He isn’t even a baby. He’s a kindergartener. It’s hard to believe, but it’s true.

The corners of my mouth tilt up when he thrusts his hand toward me. “Benny Barnes,” he says as I shake his hand. He motions around the bar. “This joint here is mine. This bar is more like family than most of my actual blood relatives.”

“Kane Bradley,” I say. He gives my hand one more firm shake before letting me go.

I look around the space, actually taking it in for the first time. I was in a fog when I stepped in here. Getting a drink to help dull some of the ache from missing Oliver was the only thing really on my mind.

This is my first weekend away from my son after his mom and I officially split, and to say I’m not doing well would be an understatement.

I’m grateful that he’s with me most of the time, but today has been a stark reminder of how hard it’s going to be to make him breakfast every morning and tuck him into bed each night.

Jess and I were never married, so the only complicated thing about our split was Ollie. We tried to make it work for Ollie’s sake, but we were never in love.

I care about her, but at a certain point, we both realized trying to stay together for Oliver’s sake wasn’t what was best for any of us, including Oliver.

“That’s a nice bike you rode up on,” Benny says, glancing out the front window where my bike is parked against the curb.

I blink a few times, drawing myself from my thoughts. “Thanks.” The genuine appreciation in his eyes is clear. “Do you ride?”

His head tilts to the side with a small huff. “Not as much as I would like but yes. The weather up here isn’t always the best for riding, but during the summer it’s damn near perfect.”

I can imagine. This tiny little town I landed in for the evening is tucked up high in the Rocky Mountains.

“I hope you weren’t riding for long with the temperatures out there.”

There isn’t any snow on the ground, which is honestly surprising for Colorado in November. Still, the temperatures are far chillier than I would normally choose to ride in. I can’t help but cringe—I’ve been riding for hours.

I was going bonkers in my too-quiet house without Oliver’s presence. I had to get out, and of course, my motorcycle was the escape I gravitated toward.

Next thing I knew, it was three hours later, and I was in Aspen Springs.

“I needed to get away.” That’s all I meant to say, but for whatever reason, I feel the need to share my whole damn story with this man. Maybe it’s the bartender mojo or something. I don’t know. “My son is with his mom, and I couldn’t be there without him anymore.”

Benny’s eyes soften as he nods. “Sorry to hear that. He’s a lucky kid to have a dad who loves him that much.”

I shrug, not really knowing what to say to that.

He leans over, gently patting my forearm. “Well, I’m glad you found a safe place to land for the night. Don’t get back on the road, though, after all that,” he says, pointing at my glass. “There’s a motel less than a block away.”

His fatherly concern is actually kind of sweet. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I had already made the decision to stay put until the morning when I started this second drink, but I’ll give him his moment.

The front door creaks open, letting in a gust of chilly night air. A woman in dark blue scrubs marches in, making a beeline for the bar. She doesn’t even have a coat on, but the freezing temps seem to be the least of her concerns.

At first, I only see the movement out of the corner of my eye. Her shoes must be wet from the snow outside because as soon as she steps up to the bar, her legs slip out from under her.

I’m moving before I even realize what I’m doing. My arms wrap around her, keeping her from crashing to the floor. She lets out a small shriek when her back lands against my chest.

I steady myself, so I don’t end up pancaking on top of her. I set her on the seat beside mine.

“You okay?” I ask, hesitating to remove my hands from her arms in case she hasn’t regained her balance yet.

Yeah… that’s why…

She turns to look at me over her shoulder, and the breath I’m taking gets caught in my lungs. I saw her walk in, but I hadn’t really seen her until this very moment.

She is fucking stunning. She has barely any makeup on and looks tired as hell, but she’s beautiful. Her long, dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail with a few stray pieces around her face.

Her light brown eyes hold mine with equal intensity. Or maybe I’m losing my damn mind.

I swallow thickly, realizing my hands are still wrapped around her arms, and my thumbs are slowly tracing lines across the smooth fabric of her scrub top.

“Are you okay?” I ask again, needing to know despite all the other inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind.

She visibly swallows. “Yeah, okay… I’m okay.” I swear I see a slight blush inching up her neck.

My hands flex against her one last time before they fall back to my side. I scoot in beside her, taking my own spot at the bar. I look up to find Benny eyeing us both with a glimmer of amusement in his stare.

“Benny,” the woman beside me half-growls. “I need a fucking drink.”

He tries to fight off his smile as he grabs a glass and starts making her a rum and Diet Coke with a lime. “Tough day?” he asks, sliding the glass toward her.

Her glare intensifies. “You could fucking say that.”

Benny is apparently done trying to hide his grin because he’s outright laughing now. I can’t help the smile that’s spreading across my face, too. She’s snarky.

Feisty and hot… deadly combination.

She takes a big swig of her drink and sets it down aggressively, making a little of the liquid splash onto the bar top.

I think she’s going to snap something else at the man opposite her, but she starts laughing instead. Her head falls against the wood as her shoulders shake with laughter.

My own drink is forgotten in front of me because I can’t take my eyes off her.

She sits up, dragging in a deep breath. “Thanks for always making me laugh, Benny.” She gives him a smile I can tell is genuine.

“Anytime, Abby. Bad shift?” Benny asks.

Abby. It fits her… tough but sweet at the same time.

She nods, taking another sip from her glass. “One of the toughest I’ve had.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but the weight from what she went through during her shift is still sitting heavily on her shoulders.

Her finger trails over the condensation on her glass. “And I don’t even have Mav with me this week, so I can’t go stare at his adorable face to make it all better.”

My eyes widen slightly as her words settle over me. Benny’s eyes swivel between Abby and me, a small smile ghosting his lips.

“Looks like you two have something you can talk about. Abby, this is Kane. He rode his motorcycle a long-ass way in this freezing fucking cold because he missed his son. Kane, this is obviously Abby. She is a badass ER nurse here in town. She has a son who is currently with his dad.”

My hackles instantly rise, and she must sense it.

“Cole’s a good guy. Benny just likes to give him shit,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Cole is my best friend and a damn good dad. We just aren’t in love, so I only have my son with me every other week.”

Suddenly, the prospect of not having my son every other weekend doesn’t seem quite as bad. “That must be really hard.”

She nods. “It is, but I’m glad he’s with his dad and uncles when I can’t have him at my side.”

I bring my glass to my lips, feeling the liquid warm my insides as it slides down my throat. She takes a sip from her own glass.

Our eyes stay locked the whole time.

We both share about our sons, and with each word that falls from her lips, I sink a little deeper into the honey-caramel pools staring back at me.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she says. Her side grazes against me as she slides from her seat.

I’m suddenly aware of every place she touched, my skin burning like it’s brushed the sun.

“Don’t run away while I’m gone.” There’s humor in her tone, but it’s laced with a thread of honesty that shoots straight to my heart.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With a nod, she walks away. I try not to stare at her, but her ass in those jogger-style scrub pants is doing things to me.

Reluctantly, I drag my eyes away, so I don’t have to adjust myself in my pants from the hard-on that’s sure to appear any second if I keep my eyes locked on her.

Benny’s laugh makes my head snap in his direction. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” I say with a small shrug.

It isn’t a lie. I do feel a little better. I still miss Oliver with every fiber of my being, but Abby is proving to be the perfect distraction.

Maybe she could be a distraction all night long.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I sure as shit wouldn’t mind losing myself in her for the night, though.

If I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure Abby could be far more to me than a distraction. She seems like trouble with a big ol’ capital T.

But the kind of trouble that fuels your soul and makes you feel alive.