Jo was stupefied as Rider shut her truck door. Turning on the engine, she cranked the heat on high and started her windshield wipers. The window was covered in fine snow, and it took several swipes before she was able to see out it. And when she could, what she saw was Rider watching her from the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders hunched from the cold wind.

Shivering, she got the hell out of there, not waiting for the truck to warm up. She could practically see her breath in the cold air. She needed to find a place to change her clothes before she froze to death. The diner and the gas station were closed. That left only one other option if she didn’t want to go home, which would be a waste of time. As soon as the partygoers hit the slick roads, she would spend the rest of night working.

Her choice made, she drove to Rosie’s. Come hell or high water, Mick would keep the bar open until four.

The parking lot was covered in snow, so she parked to the side of the bar and pulled in longways. Pushing her seat back, Jo slipped her feet into her boots, not bothering to lace them before gathering her change of clothes and getting out of the truck, leaving it idling to warm up.

“How was the auction?”

Mick’s greeting put her teeth on edge. “Don’t ask. You mind if I use your restroom to change?”

“Help yourself. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee for you.”

It didn’t take her long to change. She was sitting at the bar before the coffee was finished brewing.

“You want me to fill your thermos for you?”

Jo blew on the steaming coffee as she slid her thermos across the bar. “I’d appreciate it. It’s going to be a long night. I’ll plow the parking lot for you. Call me when you’re ready to go home, and I’ll give you a ride.”

“I can drive,” Mick argued.

“Not on those roads. Besides, why take the chance when I’m perfectly willing to give you a ride home and bring you back tomorrow when you’re ready to open?”

“Okay, okay. I know better than to argue with you.” Mick went to the other side of the bar, taking out a small canvas bag he had stored under the counter. “I packed you a small dinner.”

Jo stared at the nylon bag, a lump forming in her throat. “You shouldn’t have …”

“I knew with the weather forecast that you might get too busy to eat, and I didn’t think you would eat much at the auction. Was I right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t have to worry about you getting hungry. You don’t take care of yourself.”

Jo gave a wry twist of her lips. “It’s not like I’ll starve to death if I miss a meal.”

Mick studied her critically. “If you don’t get the fridge and oven fixed, I’m going to see they get fixed myself.”

“You worry too much,” Jo scoffed. Taking her dress, the meal Mick had made for her, and her thermos, she stood. “Put them on my tab. I get paid this week, and I’ll pay what I owe.”

“You don’t owe me a dime. I told you that we’d take it out in trade. You keep my parking lot plowed, and I’ll keep feeding you.”

“And I told you that doesn’t work for me. You let me pay you, or I’ll stop coming in.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“You love me anyway.”

“Yes, I do. I couldn’t love you any more if you were my own daughter.”

“I love you, too. I better get busy plowing your lot before those Last Riders come in, wanting their nightcap.”

“You’re not leaving until you tell me who won the auction for a date with you.”

She nearly left without telling him. If she didn’t think one of The Last Riders would tell him when they came in, she wouldn’t have. Mick liked the bikers, and Jo didn’t trust herself not to complain about who had won.

“Rider did.”

“Rider won?” Mick gaped. “He said he wasn’t bidding. You sure he won?”

“Yes, Mick, I’m sure.”

“Damn, I wish Moon or Dustin would have. I can see you and Dustin getting along. He’s a good boy. Even Moon isn’t bad. But Rider? Can you get out of it?”

“I wish. Why? What’s wrong with Rider?”

“Nothing. I like Rider. I just can’t see you getting along with him. And I just wish Dustin would have won.” Mick picked up a bar towel, running it along the length of the counter.

“Spill. What don’t you like about Rider?”

“I do like him. He livens the place up when he comes in. It’s just that …”

“Mick … just tell me.”

Mick sighed. “I hear the other Last Riders talking to each other when they think I’m not listening. I’m not going to repeat anything, but he’s not a one-woman man.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I’m saying. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Rider. It’s not a date, date. It’s an act of charity.”

Mick laughed so hard his shoulders shook. He even reached for a napkin to wipe his tears.

“What did he say when you told him that?”

“He said that he planned on changing my mind.”

“I take it back. You can handle Rider. I wish I could be a fly on a wall and watch you—”

Her radio blared out, interrupting the rest of what Mick was about to say.

“You there, Jo?” Knox’s voice came through.

She pushed the button on the side of her radio. “I’m here.”

“Gabe can’t get the snow plow working. Can you plow the main roads?”

“It depends. My rates went up after dark.”

“Just do it. I’ll make sure you get paid if I have to do it myself.”

“Give me ten minutes.”

Jo clicked her radio off. “Don’t forget to call me when you’re ready to go home,” she reminded Mick as she hurried toward the door.

“Be careful out there. That truck doesn’t make you invincible,” he called out.

The falling snow was blanketing the parking lot. Trudging through it, Jo felt more confident on the icy ground in her boots and coveralls. No longer hampered by her dress and heels, she had no problem jumping into her seat. The toasty warmth of the cabin was a shelter from the wintery storm. She was back in her element, where she belonged.

Pushing the button that would lower the snow plow, she made quick work of scraping down the snow and moving the pile into a corner of the parking lot, giving access to Mick’s customers.

When she finished, Jo blew her loud horn, letting Mick know she was done, before pulling out onto the road. Instead of heading directly to town, she drove farther up the mountain, scraping the road. Passing The Last Riders’ clubhouse, she didn’t stop until she reached the turnoff for Rachel and Cash’s home.

Turning down the cutoff, she raised her plow an inch, being careful not to hurt the driveway. Then she turned around in the front yard of the cabin and went over the driveway before returning to the road.

As she neared The Last Riders’ clubhouse and factory again, she turned, plowing the parking lot and piling the snow to the side. Satisfied that all the women would get home safely, she drove back toward town.

Her headlights shining on the lonely road highlighted the solitary existence she lived. She missed her father’s company; the ache in her heart magnified by the holidays being near. She hadn’t even bothered to put up a Christmas tree this year. She missed the things that she had taken for granted before his death like restocking his existing wardrobe or the small gifts she would buy just to put a smile on his weathered face.

Her mother had complained her entire life that her father hadn’t been much of father to her, too worried about his next drink and work to care about them, but Jo saw it differently. He had flaws—she wasn’t saying he didn’t—but his failings had never canceled out the love he had given her every day of his life.

She had been blessed with her father’s love, and with the affection Mick was giving her now that her father was gone.

Her thoughts went back to what Mick had been saying before her radio had gone off. A mischievous smile gleamed in the dark cabin.

She was going to give Mick an early Christmas present.