“I know.” He dropped his hands on my shoulders. “I love you too, brother. So fucking much.”
22
LOCKE
“Pass me the backnut spanner?”
I rifled in the box at my feet and relinquished the tool to my queen. “You want the tommy bar?”
“Not yet.”
Orla disappeared under the sink again, fixing a dripping pipe in the sales building that had been irritating her all week. It was tricky to get to, stiff as hell, and there were any number of prospects and brothers milling around who could’ve done it for her. Hell, Icould’ve done it for her. But my woman was a whole mood today and I knew better than to offer help she didn’t need.
Besides, I was enjoying the view. Her long legs stretched across the stone floor. The way her T-shirt rode up with every stretch of her elegant arms. Best. Distraction. Ever. And Lord knew I needed one.
I tore my gaze from Orla and glanced around the yard, loitering at the space where Nash’s bike should’ve been. Cam’s was gone too. They’d gone to look at a new wagon, it had been in the legitimate business diary all week, but with the weight of Nash’s secret heavy on my shoulders, their combined absence made me antsy.
What if they didn’t come back? What if today was the day Bear the Motherfuckin’Feddecided to tear Nash away from me, from Orla—fromus—forever?
“This shit is years old and it’s coming home to roost. There’s nothing you can do.”
Orla said something.
Startled, I turned my head. “Hmm?”
Her dark eyes snared me. “What’s up with you today?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Orla wriggled out from beneath the sink, that shirt curling up again, her creamy belly right fuckin’there. “Something on your mind?”
For a sultry second, the honest answer was no, unless I counted wanting to peel her tight black jeans down her legs. Then I went with the truth, cos lying to her stuck in my throat. “I feel like shit.”
Orla set her tools down, giving me her instant and undivided attention. “We can go home if you want? Go to bed early?”
“Not that kind of shit.” I pushed off the office chair I’d been lounging in while she played boss woman to the tap. Grabbed her hands and brought her upright with me. “It’s my head and in here.” I pressed her palm to my chest. “I feel like the world is about to end.”
Empathy warmed Orla’s molten gaze. “Embry said that might happen when everything settled down again. That being happy might freak you out. Are you happy, Locke?”
With her? Yeah. I was fuckin’ ecstatic. But I’d have been over the moon and tickling the sun if Nash had been here too, and maybe that was it. Maybe I’d have felt like this regardless of the fed threat hanging over him, just cos I missed him. “I’m happy, queenie. I love you.”
“I wasn’t fishing for affection.” Orla kissed my cheek. “But if it helps, I love you too.”
It helped. So did the rear view of her as she released my hands and made her way back to the sales desk. A lot of things were playing on repeat in my head right now, but her interest in DP was probably among the loudest. Orla was satanically gorgeous. They both were. The thought of fucking her and feeling Nash inside her at the same time left singe marks on my brain.
I followed Orla back to the desk.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a purple Yorkie bar. “Everything feels worse when you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should be. You’re the biggest boy and lunch was hours ago. Plus, I know you like these. Willow told me last night.”
When we’d taken her out for her birthday. Let her get tipsy with Orla and make fun of me and Nash all evening. Best night of my life—one of them, anyway.
These two.
Who the fuck would I be without them?