“I’m not worrying.”
“What are you thinking so hard about then?”
“The past. The future.”
“Try the present. It’s good.”
Folk nuzzled my jaw for emphasis.
I hummed at his easy affection, raising my chin to give him better access. I’d just come so hard my hands were still shaking, but we were alone, and my body knew better than my brain that we were going to make the most of it.
In a little while, anyway. Being a full-time dad with multiple jobs was tough. Folk was my rock, and my brothers helped me more than I could ever repay, but it still knackered the shit out of me.
Folk left the bed to clean up. When he came back, he pressed up behind me. He was hard again, but his touch was sleepy. I tipped my head back, rubbing my jaw along his, drifting as I listened to his breathing even out. I’d had so many perfect moments with Folk, but this one was perhaps the most perfect of all.
* * *
I woke up to him standing over me, bright-eyed and dressed. Folk was a morning person, and unless he was drowsing in the sun with his head in my lap, he had two speeds: asleep, andlet’s go.
My cruising altitude was somewhere in between, and it took me a few minutes to acclimatise to waking up in the forest.
I wanted to fuck him again. But, alas, we didn’t have time. The club was throwing a barbecue for Orla’s thirtieth birthday, and Ivy would lose her absolute shit if we missed it.
We got our gear together and packed up the car. We travelled light—just Ivy’s fancy suitcase and an overnight bag of stuff I didn’t trust her to carry. But we were leaving with more than we’d brought in the shape of two extra car seats and two tiny people to fill them.
Jules and Bo. For the next four days, we had three kids.
Folk drove. Everyone else fell asleep halfway home, even me.
I jolted awake as we crossed the Devon border, wrenched from my doze by Ivy’s off-key humming.
It was her favourite song. We used to play it all the time, but I’d wound it in when I’d noticed something about it messed with Folk’s head.
Rubbing my eyes, I glanced at him now, but he didn’t seem disturbed, just happy as he tapped his fingers on the wheel and focused on the road.
I dropped a hand on his thigh. His smile widened, though he kept his hypnotic gaze to himself.
Ten minutes later, we rolled into the compound. Folk eased the car into a space among the rows of hogs and the kids began to wake up.
The yard was heaving, packed with brothers and their families who’d turned out for the club’s boss lady, the Rebel Kings at their respectable best.
I couldn’t see Orla, but Rubi popped up from nowhere as I opened my car door and pulled me into a hug. “Deeky. Stop leaving us. We need supervision.”
Grinning, I hugged him back, not letting myself think about what he meant by that. The mess Mateo and River had made of the timber yard could wait. Everything could. We were Rebel Kings. Family came first.
Rubi opened the rear door to release Ivy from her seatbelt. He poked his head into the car, then reared up so fast he almost gave himself a fresh concussion. “Don’t wanna alarm anyone, but unless Folksie’s double life has taken a Romano twist, you seem to have stolen some extra sproglets.”
Folk laughed. “We didn’t steal them.”
“We borrowed them,” I supplied.
“From who?”
“My parents.” Folk hauled Bo from the car, and then Jules, juggling two little boys like he’d been doing it his whole life. “Where’s Locke?”
Rubi jabbed a bemused thumb in the direction of the outdoor kitchen. “Over there playing matron to every spark on the barbecue.”
I turned my head as Embry jumped from the roof onto a picnic table. He hopped down into Mateo’s embrace, sure-footed and agile, and it startled me for a second. I was still getting used to the healthy version of him; it had been that long since I’d seen it.
