Nash’s handsome smile turned mischievous anddirty. “Fuck yeah. I mean, not as sexy as you are with two—”
A sudden flurry of noise in the chapel cut him off. Nash moved fast to cover me but relaxed as the distinct rattle of a Fat Boy reached us.
Folk.
He was home, and a different kind of stress descended on us.
Nash moved to the window. I followed him, peeking over his shoulder as Folk rumbled into the yard and parked beside Locke’s old Dyna.
Folk’s build was slimmer than the men I was used to. More like River than Rubi. More like Saint than Cam. He rolled off his hog with a subtle grace and took his helmet off, shaking out his shaggy hair. He had his back to the chapel, the set of his shoulders impossible to read. I held my breath as Decoy dashed outside, but Nash eased me away from the window before they collided.
“Give them a minute.”
Damn him and his conscience. I squeezed his hand and let him pull me out of the kitchen.
In the chapel, the idle chatter had died down and every soul had drifted closer to their loved ones, Saint claiming Ivy. Only Ranger stood alone, slouched against the wall, gaze pinned on the door.
Locke was with Willow, staring into space while she strummed her guitar.
It wasn’t a Locke thing to do, zoning out. Or maybe it was and I was spoiled enough that almost every moment I spent with him, I had his undivided attention.
Either way, the worry in his gaze hurt, and Nash didn’t hesitate. He wove his way to them, sliding an arm around Locke’s big shoulders, ruffling Willow’s hair.
I flanked Locke’s other side, kissing his temple. His hand found my hip as he leaned back into Nash’s embrace, seeking the comfort we were offering, and that was us, bound together as his beautiful kid did her best to distract the whole room with the soft magic she drew from the acoustic Nash had fixed for her.
She played an old song Nash knew well. He watched her with rapt attention, his fingers moving in time with hers, tapping out the rhythm on Locke’s forearm.
It was so cute, I nearly died.
“We should jam together,” he told Willow when she was done.
Her face lit up. “Can we? Dad said you’re really good.”
“Your dad’s too kind. I reckon you could school me on a few things.”
Locke made a disgruntled sound at the same moment Rubi scoffed from across the table.
“Ignore him. Lord Nashie missed his calling.”
Nash rolled his eyes. “Only places that called my name were Catholic school or this shithole.”
“Lucky us,” Rubi deadpanned before he went back to annoying River.
Locke brought Nash’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “We are lucky.”
The gesture was absent, his mind still on his brothers outside, but somehow that made it sweeter. And Nash’s answering smile?
It blew me away.
These boys. Thesemen. They were killing me far more than any idiot with a gun ever could.
The chapel door opened, breaking the spell. Folk slipped inside and I pressed myself tighter to Locke, the fear in his heart squeezing mine in a death grip. We couldn’t lose Folk.
Folk smiled. “At ease, soldiers. You’re stuck with me for at least another year.”
Relief washed over me like the cool ocean Folk loved so much. I sagged in place as Locke surged from his seat and embraced his friend, a slow breath escaping my lungs, my heart a messy mix of every emotion playing on Decoy’s face.
We exchanged a long look.
