Page 18 of The Biker and the Single Mom

And my hands had been rock-steady the entire time.

Not shaking. Not trembling. Just... steady.

I stared at my palms in the fluorescent light, turning them over. The same hands that used to shake every night in the dark. The same hands that had made me doubt I'd ever be whole again.

I knew why they were steady now.

Rory. Luna. The life waiting for me upstairs after I finished cleaning up. Someone to come home to that wasn't nightmares and guilt.

Purpose. Family. Love.

Fuck. I was in love with her.

Three AM when I finally climbed the stairs to the apartment, exhausted and covered in Diesel's blood. I'd cleaned up at the clinic but my shirt was ruined, my jeans stained.

The apartment was dark except for one lamp by the couch.

Rory sat curled up under a blanket, a book in her lap. Relief flooded her face when I walked in.

"You're okay." She crossed to me immediately. "I heard sirens and Maddie called and said there'd been trouble and I didn't know if⁠—"

"I'm fine." I caught her hands. "Diesel took a knife. He's stable. Pope's watching him tonight."

"You've been working this whole time?" Her fingers traced the blood on my shirt. "God, Cole."

"Had to make sure he'd live." I pulled her against me, needing her warmth. "I'm okay. Better than okay."

"You're shaking." Her palms pressed against my chest.

She was right. Not my hands this time—those were still steady. But my whole body trembled with exhaustion and adrenaline crash.

"Come on." She took my hand, led me to the bedroom. "Shower first. Then bed."

She stripped off my ruined clothes and guided me into the shower. Washed the blood away with gentle hands while I leaned against the tile and let her care for me the way I'd been caring for them.

When we finally fell into bed, I pulled her close and buried my face in her hair.

"I was worried," she whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry." I kissed her shoulder, her neck, needing to feel her alive and whole beneath my touch. "I love you."

The words escaped before I thought about them.

She went still. Then turned in my arms to face me, her eyes searching mine in the darkness.

"Say it again."

"I love you." Easier the second time. True both times. "Have for a while now. Didn't want to scare you off."

"Cole." Her fingers traced my face. "I love you too. So much it terrifies me."

I kissed her then—slow and deep and full of everything I'd been holding back. She opened for me, her body arching into mine, and the exhaustion vanished in the face of needing her.

"Let me—" I started, but she was already pushing me onto my back, straddling me, taking control.

"You've been taking care of everyone else all night." Her mouth found my throat. "Let me take care of you."

She rode me slow and steady, her hands braced on my chest, her eyes holding mine. Building it up gentle and perfect until we both shattered, her name on my lips and mine on hers.