The neon sign buzzed faintly above the biker bar just outside Seaside Bay, its glow spilling across the gravel lot where engines growled low and restless. Emma Harrison should've turned around every good girl in town knew this place wasn't meant for her. But Emma had never been good at following rules. Inside, laughter and music tangled with smoke and heat. She slipped through the crowd with a sway of her hips, the kind of woman who carried sunlight into a storm. That's when she saw him leaning against the bar, tattoos shadowing muscled arms, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a don't mess with me scowl carved into his face. Jake Lawson. Ex-Marine. Local bad boy. The man everyone whispered about. And the exact kind of trouble Emma had always been drawn to.