Page 7 of Biker Daddy's Girl

Soon enough, other girls on campus noticed that when the riders were around, the assholes left them alone. Slowly but surely, more volunteers for what would first just be known as The Guards, and eventually the Iron Guardians, started to come in. And it turned out more than just harassed college students could benefit from their help.

Little kids in the hospital going home after long stays loved to be escorted by the cadre of bikers surrounding their family car. Women needing protection from asshole exes were able to sleep soundly with the growing Iron Guardians group silent and deadly parked outside their homes. The worst were the kids who had been hurt or abused and lived in fear of their abuser returning, but those were also the most important jobs of all. Who better to protect that innocent than the Iron Guardians? It was what had drawn me to the club in the first place.

It changed the way the town, and eventually, the entire state of Texas started to view motorcycle clubs as a whole. Where once bikers had been seen as criminals and thugs, we were now viewed more as a private police force. We still kept our noses out of any illegal activity, but we were trusted more than other MCs, which was always a good thing.

By the time I came along, the club was already solid and had a reputation as the place to go if you needed a guard. Nightly patrols through Stonebridge, especially on the weekends when the parties sometimes get out of hand, help keep everything under control. It also reminds assholes that might have something nefarious in mind that we are always here, always watching.

Last night was one of those patrols, and we had just pulled into the parking lot of one of the college bars called Aces to follow up with a bartender that had been getting some shit from a regular who wouldn't take no for an answer. When it turned out that our presence was deterrent enough to make him leave her alone, I let the boys grab a beer while I went outside to call and check in with the other patrol groups that were out. That was when one of my men pointed outside, and I saw the silhouette of a woman reaching out to touch my bike. From there, everything changed.

She had been so small, so delicate compared to the Harley. My bike is a beast of a machine, and seeing her hand on the fuel tank, her slender fingers stroking the gas cap, was the hottest fucking thing I had ever seen.

I knew in an instant that this girl was trouble. She was young, probably a student, and definitely not the type of woman I should be thinking about.

But one look at her and I wanted her like nothing else.

Then she asked me to walk her home, all vulnerability and sweetness, and in that instant, there was nothing else in the world I wanted to do. I sent a quick text to the boys inside, letting them know they didn't need to wait for me, and walked Emma back to her dorm.

The entire time I wanted to take her back to my place instead, somewhere she'd be safe and under my protection in every way possible. But the little bit of logic left in my brain told me if I pushed my luck, she'd probably disappear forever and want nothing to do with me. And hell, I'm an Iron Guardian. We're the opposite of those pushy pricks that move too fast and are too demanding.

For the first time in my life, I had WANTED to push, WANTED to demand, but I didn't. Emma will be mine, there's no fucking doubt about it, but it's going to take a gentler touch to capture her.

No, not capture. To have her come to me willingly, with the same sort of desperation pulsing within me like something alive.

I park the bike on the street near the quad, keeping my helmet on while I scan the area. I'm not sure how to find her, and the crowd of people isn't making things any easier.

Stonebridge University is a good-sized school, not huge, but bigger in the daylight than I remembered. There's a mix of old buildings and newer ones, and the campus itself is welcoming.

I get a few curious looks as I wander around, but it's not unusual for bikers to be on campus. With so many clubs and organizations connected to the Iron Guardians, the students and staff are used to seeing us.

Still, I know I'm not exactly the ideal candidate for a tour guide, so when one of the students I vaguely recognize—the younger brother of a Guardian—approaches me, I'm relieved.

"Hey, Luke! What's up? Do you need something?"

"Hey, Patrick. Yeah, actually. I helped a girl home last night and it’s … er … protocol to check back up the next day to see if they're okay or need more help. I know you probably can't give me a name, but can you point me in the direction of the English literature department?"

"Sure, man! That's easy."

He gives me directions to the building, and I thank him before heading off. Now that I have a general idea of where I'm going, the campus seems a lot less intimidating.

As I make my way through the crowds of people, I catch a flash of blond hair that reminds me of Emma. I turn to get a better look, but it's just a student rushing off to class.

I sigh, shaking my head at my own foolishness. I'm acting like a lovesick teenager, chasing after any blonde I see.

The desire to find Emma, to make sure she's okay, is strong. And even though I'm not sure what I'll do when I actually find her, I keep walking, determined to complete my mission. Eventually, the building comes into view, and now I'm torn on how exactly to approach this situation. The faculty might tolerate me skulking about the grounds, but roaming the halls and peeking into classrooms is another thing altogether. That's creep shit. I can do better than that. Even if I don't feel casual about Emma, I have to play the part.

There's a coffee cart on the sidewalk by the English Literature department that sells refreshments and a small assortment of magazines. I grab Popular Mechanics and order a large black drip coffee, find a bench that faces the main entrance to the department, and settle in to wait. Thank God my first customer at my shop isn't due until after 3 PM. I have no idea how long I'll be posted up here.

3

LUKE

I've gotten through the magazine and three cups of coffee before I finally spot her. I'd know that head of soft, wavy blonde hair anywhere. She's walking beside a tall red-haired girl, and they're both laughing, obviously enjoying themselves.

Something hot and possessive curls in my chest as I watch them. Emma looks even more beautiful in the daylight, her smile bright and carefree. She's dressed simply in jeans and a Stonebridge University hoodie, but she's absolutely gorgeous.

My hands itch to touch her, to pull her close, and claim those soft lips, but I resist. There's still too much I don't know about her. But I will find out.

I watch as she and her friend say goodbye, and then Emma starts in the direction of her dorm. This is my chance. I quickly dispose of my coffee cup and magazine and jog after her, my heart pounding.