Opening the bathroom door, I find Rigger crouched in front of my frogs, giving them a couple of brine shrimps. “You’re making them fat,” I scold him. “It’s just a little treat.” “Uh-huh.” I fold my arms and lean against the wall. No one can tell me there’s anything more adorable than a big, strong biker sneaking my dwarf frog treats. My chest warms, and a calm settles over me. This is the man who can give me back what’s been taken; I just know it.
