I glanced at Willow again. “Where doyouwant to go?”
“Um...” Willow blinked at Embry, overcome by his killer cheekbones and sparkly eyes. “I don’t really care as long as I get to be with my dad.”
“Maybe you should call your mum then, sweetheart.”
“No need.” Embry brandished Locke’s cracked phone. “Folk charmed her. As long as Willow’s home by this afternoon, you’re golden.”
Locke chose that moment to check back into the conversation. He folded his tall frame behind the wheel, reclaimed his phone, and stern-faced Willow. “It’s not okay to blow off college. You want to end up like me?”
“I like you,” Willow retorted. “You’re the only one who doesn’t.”
Burn.
Locke started the car.
Embry backed off and jammed his helmet on. We prepared to move out, but another bike rumbled across the yard to join us, and my heart skipped the same beat it had been skipping since I was thirteen years old and that mop of golden curls first turned my head.
My ride or die.
My best friend.
Nash rolled to a stop at Locke’s window. Despite the simmering heat between them, their relationship had always been easy—banter, bro hugs, and an unquestionable loyalty that seemed older than the short years they’d been friends. I wasn’t used to tension flooding the air as they stared each other down.
Or the flatness in Locke’s voice. “You need a ride to the bus too?”
“The bus?” Nash cocked a brow, glancing at Willow, then me, before he returned his gaze to Locke. “I thought we were going to the car auctions?”
“You’re not funny.”
Nash braced his arm on the car roof. “Never claimed to be. I’m a wicked housemaid, though. Picked this up earlier.” He tossed an envelope through the open window. “You left it lying around.”
Locke made a sound that could’ve been a growl, but it was tempered by Willow bouncing around in the back seat. “Can we go to the car place, Dad? Please? You don’t have to buy anything; it’ll just be fun.”
“There you go.” Nash knocked on the roof. “We all like fun, brother. It makes the bad stuff hurt less.”
He rumbled away before Locke could answer, and the sense that I really was missing something returned full force. I knew Locke as well as he allowed me to, but Nash’s soul was as familiar to me as my own, and he got this look about him when he thought he’d upset someone. This earnest guilt that weighed him down until he’d made it right. Like all the men in my life, Nash was emotional.
He was also a leader.
His hog took point while Embry guarded the rear, and our convoy left the compound.
I handed Willow my phone. “Put some music on, sweetheart.”
“Dad likes Marvin Gaye.”
“I bet he does.”
I treated Locke to a subtle, hellacious smirk. But he was indadmode and ignored me.
A second later, sexy soul boomed out of the car speakers. It wasn’t the track I’d had in mind, but it’d do. And Willow’s delighted giggle from the back seat made my day, even through the hurt of knowing these special moments with my father were gone forever.
Nash led us to an old-school car auction site on the outskirts of town. Locke parked in a space where the bikes could flank us and signalled for Willow to stay put.
I already knew the drill. I waited in my seat and turned to face Willow again. “When your dad opens your door, don’t worry about shutting it behind you, okay?” Sensing her confusion, I played my trump card early. “Let Embry get that for you.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “He’s going to shut my door? Why?”
“Biker rules.”
