I slapped my hand over his mouth. “Don’t psychoanalyse me. I want to eat a massive pizza, then take my men home. That’s all I’m about right now.”
Embry nodded. I let my hand slip away and he treated me to a dose of searching empathy, but Locke caught my attention again and every other soul in the room faded to black.
He’d handed off Hope to Folk and fixed me with a stare that was as concerned as it was intimate.
I met his gaze and he crossed the room, coming to crouch in front of me, his hands on my knees. “Need anything?”
I needed Nash to come home whole. We both did. Failing that, I settled for a chaste kiss.
Locke grinned as his phone went crazy in his pocket.
Willow.
By now, I recognised the different tones he used for the people he cared about.
He took the call, flinching as she unleashed her special brand of chaos on him. “Slow down, kid. I can’t understand you when you jabber at warp speed.”
She kept talking. Locke kept flinching.
With a sigh, he rose and stepped outside.
I missed him instantly. And I really wanted that pizza.
A minute later, he came back. “Willow needs her guitar. She got her whole band to Kara’s house before she remembered she left it at the festival.”
“Oh. Shit. Okay. We can take it to her.”
I uncurled my legs and started to stand.
Locke stayed me with a hand to my head. “I don’t want you on the road unless I’m taking you home.”
The only acceptable part of that statement was that he’d made the decision himself without tagging Nash or Cam for their unnecessary opinions. The rest of it had me irritated all over again, but Embry squeezed my shoulder before I could erupt.
“Go,” he said to Locke. “There’s enough of us here to guard Orla.”
Locke looked to Folk for confirmation. To Mateo. To Decoy.
They all nodded. Three girls, four men. There was enough testosterone to go round.
Locke still looked uneasy.
I gave him a gentle push. “Go on. I’ll behave, I promise.”
He smirked a little. “I’ve never asked you to do that.”
“Maybe you should.”
“All right then.”
He stepped back, catching Folk’s eye as he always seemed to when they were both in the same place.
“You shouldn’t ride alone,” Folk said.
Locke grinned. “These fuckers are all over the limit, and I’d ratheryouwere busy with your kid and stayed with Orla.”
Conflict raged in Folk’s usually placid gaze. He held Locke’s gaze for a protracted moment.
Then he nodded. “Stay in touch.”
