#2
Mags and I had become close since the night she ended up in hospital.
She was a tough woman who’d seen some things in her life having grown up in the MC world with a father and brother who were bikers and then marrying one and having kids with him.
She was the kind of woman who could tell embarrassing stories about her son while simultaneously letting you know she’d end you if you hurt him.
All with a smile that explained exactly where Jake got his dimples from.
But I was sure she knew I would never hurt her son.
And so, we exchanged movie and TV show recommendations, spent hours together during her chemotherapy chatting about the books we were reading, and she did her best to help me find my feet in my new life with her son and the club.
Also, recipes. She’d started helping me out with baking.
It turned out that stress baking was my new preferred way of coping whenever I thought Jake was in danger.
Me
OMG yes, please text it!
Mags
Did you see that I rearranged Jake’s pantry yesterday?
Mags was often here, and while I’d had friends in the past who complained about their boyfriend’s mother interfering in their relationship, I didn’t feel this way. I loved that Mags and Jake were close enough for her to visit often, and I loved that she spent time getting to know me.
Me
No. What did you do?
Mags
I created a baking shelf for your ingredients and brought some things over that I thought you might be able to use. I’m going to email you my mother’s recipes to add to your baking spreadsheet too.
Me
Wow. Thank you.
I was lost for words. Mags might have thought she was just making space for a few things in the pantry, but to me, this was so much more than that. She’d already welcomed me into her son’s life, but this was a whole other type of welcome.
Mags
You’re not just visiting anymore, love. You belong there and you need your own spaces to fill with your things xx
Belong . I felt that word deeply in my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d truly felt I belonged somewhere other than with my own family.
In friendships, I usually felt awkward and out of place.
Not into the same things as other women.
In the tech world, I was always the girl who had to work twice as hard to be taken half as seriously.
In dating, I was the quirky one with too many spreadsheets and not enough patience for the games that seemed to be involved with dating.
But here, in this strange new world of bikers and brotherhood, I’d somehow found a place that felt right.
A place where my analytical mind was appreciated rather than mocked, where my fierce loyalty was matched rather than exploited, and where my tendency to overthink was met with patience rather than frustration.
As if reading my thoughts, my phone pinged with a text from Madison, one of the Stormgirls I’d become friends with.
Madison
Coffee with the girls next week? We’re planning a girls’ weekend away and want you to come. Plus, Harlow needs help setting up a website for her art. I told her she needs your skills.
I stared at her text for longer than I usually would. I’d never developed friendships through a guy I was dating, and I really liked that I was now. I wasn’t just a part of Jake’s life now; these girls were gently pulling me into their world too, one small, ordinary invitation at a time.
After I replied, agreeing to coffee, I went back to my new spreadsheet and started filling it in, smiling to myself as I created headers and categories, organising this new chapter of my life the only way I knew how.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, sorting through memories and observations, creating a roadmap for this uncharted territory.
Under “Biker Dictionary,” I added terms I’d picked up. Under “Clubhouse Etiquette,” I detailed the subtle hierarchies I’d observed. Under “The Old Ladies’ Code,” I listed the unspoken rules Madison and the girls had mentioned.
And under “Personal Growth Metrics,” I created a timeline of transformations:
From: Dropping keys on purpose to get attention
To: Knowing I have his full attention without trying
From: Googling “what does it mean when a biker calls you darlin’”
To: Knowing exactly what it means when he calls me his
From: Panicking about the blonde on his bike
To: Understanding the complexity of club allegiances (but still not loving it)
From: Hiding behind my laptop at parties
To: Finding my place by Jake’s side
I was so absorbed in my categorisation that I didn’t hear Jake return until his arms wrapped around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder as he peered at my screen.
“‘The Girlfriend’s Guide to Dating a Biker,’” he read, amusement colouring his voice. “Planning to publish this, darlin’?”
“Maybe.” I leaned back against his chest. “There’s a serious lack of helpful resources for women who find themselves dating dangerous men with dimples.”
His laugh warmed my neck. “And what does your guide say about what happens next?”
I turned in his arms, looping my hands behind his neck. “That’s the thing about guides; they can only take you so far. Eventually, you have to make your own path.”
“Together,” he corrected, his eyes serious despite his smile.
I threaded my fingers through his hair at his nape. “Together.”
And then he was kissing me, deep and thorough, until my laptop lay forgotten on the counter and my body was hard against his in ways that shut every other thought out.
We ended up in his bed, clothes scattered across the floor, hands tracing familiar territory with wild hunger. We were more intimate than we’d ever been. Sex between us was still hotter than anything I’d ever known, but it was shifting and was now less about claiming, and more about connecting.
Jake’s eyes locked onto mine as he moved inside me, dark and searching.
The intensity of his gaze made me want to look away, made me feel exposed in ways that had nothing to do with our nakedness.
But I forced myself to stay present, to let him see all of me.
My desire, my fear, my vulnerability, my strength.
“Eden.” His voice broke slightly as his rhythm faltered. “Fuck, I?—”
He didn’t finish whatever he was going to say, but I felt every unspoken word in the way his body moved above mine, in his rough breath against my cheek, in the way he held me as if he could shield me from the world. As if I was his world.
And when we finally came, when the moment stole the air from my lungs, I saw it in his face—the unguarded truth neither of us had fully spoken yet.
He wasn’t just inside me.
He was in .
Afterward, our bodies remained close, skin still warm, breaths still uneven. His fingers roamed absently over my body. It seemed like he was a million miles away.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, watching the play of emotions across his face.
“How fucking crazy it is that I only met you three months ago and now we’re here.”
His palm rested over my heart.
I threaded my fingers through his. “I like it here.”
He watched me silently for a long moment before his lips came to mine, urgent and almost aching, like he was trying to hold onto something before it slipped away.
When he finally dragged his mouth from mine, his expression was serious. “I have history with the new Black Deeds president. The bad kind of history.” The shadows falling across his face told me there was more to this story. “If he ever figures out what you mean to me... fuck, I?—”
I cut him off, wanting to help ease his worry. “It’ll be okay. Just because I could be a target, doesn’t mean?—”
“You’re protected,” he said fiercely. “By me. By the club. But yeah, being with me puts you at risk.”
I should have been terrified. Should have been rethinking this whole situation. But instead, I found myself calculating odds and evaluating variables, which was exactly what I did when facing a particularly challenging piece of code.
“So, we’re careful,” I said finally. “We plan for contingencies.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “Just like that?”
“Well, I might need to create a new spreadsheet titled ‘Threat Analysis: Boyfriend’s Nemesis Edition.’”
The laugh that burst from him was surprised and genuine. “You and your spreadsheets,” he murmured, but his voice was warm with affection.
“Hey, Excel has gotten me through every crisis in my life. I’m not about to abandon it now.”
Jake shook his head, his eyes soft. “Fuck, I lo—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat. “There’s no one else like you, Eden.”
My heart raced at what he’d almost said, but I didn’t push. Some things needed time, needed to unfold at their own pace. And if there was one thing I’d learned from debugging complex code, it was patience.
He pulled me closer until my head rested on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. In the quiet that followed, I thought about how quickly life could change. How one dropped set of keys, one glance, one “Need help, sweetheart?” could send you down a path you never expected.
I thought about how I’d spent hours googling “what to do when a hot biker moves in next door” and found nothing useful.
How no search engine could have prepared me for the reality of Jake.
For his fierce protectiveness, his never-ending care, that sexy smile that always affected me, or the way his strength felt like something solid I could lean on.
How sometimes the best things in life can’t be researched or analysed or sorted into neat categories. Sometimes they had to be lived, moment by moment, heartbeat by heartbeat.
As we lay together in silence, I was struck by the realisation that I was falling— no, had already fallen —completely for this man. This dangerous, complicated man who’d crashed into my life and turned everything upside down in the best possible way.
“Jake,” I whispered as I lifted my head to find his gaze, not sure what I wanted to say but feeling the need to say something.
He was already watching me as his fingers spread gently across the back of my neck. “Yeah, darlin’?”
I opened my mouth to speak, still not sure what would come out, but the look in his eyes stopped me. They said it all. I wasn’t just his for now. I was his, period . In the same way he was mine, period .
Turns out some questions don’t need Google. Just courage, a little faith, and maybe, just maybe, the right person to rewrite all your formulas.
I smiled at him. “I’m so glad I dropped my keys the day you moved in.”
Amusement tugged at his lips, but his eyes burned hot. “Me too, baby. You dropped your keys, and I dropped my whole fuckin’ guard.” His lips brushed over mine, slow and sexy. “That was the moment I stopped looking anywhere but at you. And I don’t plan on ever looking anywhere else again.”
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Thank you for reading Eden & Jake’s book!
I hope you loved it as much as I do.