Like I was a puddle of diesel and he was a lit match, but he didn’t mean that. Not here. “I’m not worried about you telling Logan too much, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Locke waited, not giving me an easy out.
I kept talking, giving him the truth, like I always would, as long as I could safely do it. “If you share this shit with him, you have to share it all. That means telling him that the whole thing started because of somethinghedid. That’s gonna hurt, man. It’s gonna kill him. And what the fuck for? What do either of you get out of that?”
Locke let his hand fall and stared off, considering my pound-shop wisdom.
I let him be, gaze drifting to Orla. Watching her bend and scoop a dropped poi from the ground. Her hips were rounder lately, her tits big and heavy. It probably meant the shittiest period ever was about to land on her, but I still enjoyed the view.
“You’re right,” Locke said eventually. “We’re in a good place now. Dumping this on him is just gonna rip it all open again.”
I tore my attention from Orla’s thick thighs. “I’m probably not right. That’s not really my thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Locke brought his hand back to my face and traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “What is yourthing, Nash?”
I had one word for him. “Us.”
32
LOCKE
There weren’t many things that made me as happy as waking up every morning with two lovers in my arms, but sitting alone in Orla’s kitchen, nursing a cuppa while I waited for my kid to surface from the spare bedroom was definitely one of them.
Willow had slept over and it felt like fuckin’ Christmas.
“Hey, old man.” She shuffled into the kitchen, long hair in a messy knot on top of her head.Like Orla.
I smiled into my mug. “Hey, yourself. You want breakfast?”
Willow eyed the granola bag on the table. “I don’t want hamster food.”
I rose fast and grabbed her, soaking up her sunny laugh as I gently knocked my knuckles to her scalp. “Uncle Lo? Is that you in there, you grumpy bastard?”
“Stop!” Willow pushed me away. “Uncle Lo isn’t grumpy. He’s just?—”
“Grumpy.” I opened the fridge. Found the bacon I needed for a Halliwell special. “But he’s on nights this week, so don’t call and tell him that till after five, okay?”
Willow rolled her eyes and watched me throw bacon in a pan. “I can’t believe you live here. This place is so cool.”
“What are you saying? That I’m not cool?”
“Not to me, but you’re cooler than everyone else’s dad.”
“Nice.” But it was the best I was going to get. I poured her the chocolate oat milk she liked and cooked enough bacon for two, knowing the scent would rouse Nash. Orla had already left. Decoy picked her up an hour ago. She’d be gone till the evening, working at the compound, and most days I’d be her shadow, but Nash needed me today, so here I was, cooking breakfast for my rainbow baby girl while I waited for him to wake up.
Could you measure time in how long it took for the scent of bacon to reach a sleeping man? Either way, I was plating up when I heard the familiar sound of him hopping down the hallway to the kitchen, using the walls for balance instead of the crutches he’d grown to despise.
“Nashie!” Willow sprang up to hug him.
I caught her with a look.Wait. And for once, she heard me before I spoke and let Nash sit before she pounced, hugging up a storm with a man she adored almost as much as I did.
They had a secret handshake.
I had plates with bacon on and that bought me a precious hour of mellow guitar music before Willow left for college and I had Nash to myself for the day.
“You need to get dressed.” I pointed at the oven clock. “Big day for you.”
Nash smirked. “If you’re going to say big and dressed in the same sentence, I want to be naked by the end of it.”