Asher caught one and lifted a brow slightly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. Heat climbed my neck.
By the tenth bike, the line had grown.
By the fifteenth, I was moving fast but starting to feel it. My arms ached, and my fingers were numb from the cold. Bikes began backing up, riders waiting patiently but watching the clock.
I wiped my hands on my jeans and exhaled.
“Asher,” I called.
He looked over instantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to need help.”
He crossed the space in long strides, Blaze and Cookie falling in behind him like it was instinct.
“What do you need?” Blaze asked.
I grabbed a finished arrangement and demonstrated quickly how to anchor the ties, where to place the weight so it didn’t throw the handlebars off, and how to make it secure without damaging leather or paint.
Cookie nodded, already reaching for the next bundle. “Got it.”
Blaze smirked. “Flowers. I can handle flowers.”
Asher watched closely, eyes following my hands. “This tight?”
“Not too tight,” I corrected. “You want secure, not strangled.”
His mouth twitched. “Story of my life.”
I shot him a look. Cookie snorted.
Once they started helping, everything sped up.
The line moved. The pressure eased. The fleet transformed bike by bike into something striking. Hard edges softened by color.
By noon, we were done.
Every bike registered. Every handlebar adorned. The van empty behind us.
I stepped back, hands on my hips, and took it all in.
The group gathered at the head of the formation looked like something out of a photo spread. Badass and bold with flowers sprinkled through like a statement no one could ignore.
Asher stood near the front with Moore, Cookie, and Blaze nearby, the club’s presence unmistakable.
My chest tightened with something like pride.
My job was done.
I moved toward Asher, already forming the words in my head. “Hey,” I called. “I should head back to the shop,” I said, practical instinct kicking in. “Jenna and Jackie will be swamped with pickups.”
Before I could take a step, Asher reached for my hand.
Just like that, his fingers laced with mine, firm and warm. I froze.
He didn’t pull me closer yet. Just held my hand like it belonged there.
“Ride with me,” he said.
