“Beck’s riding with Finn,” Chloé informed him.
“Then she needs to take Bri,” Crew stated.
“Bri is riding with her dad.”
Despite being an accomplished senior special agent, despite being a task force leader, despite being a bossy shit, despiteeverything… this young girl was going to win this fight and Crew would lose and lose badly.
The man was going to be deeply wounded from that loss.
Oh yeah, she felt for him.
“Do all the rest of the kids have a ride?” he finally asked.
“Yes, I checked.”
A resigned sigh filled the air. “Fine. Don’t give her any problems.”
“Thanks, Dad!” The excitement was back in her voice. She ran off and over to Monty, even though her eyes were focused on another boy about her age. One wearing a scowl.
She wondered if he was Nox’s son because they sure had the same “I hate the world” expression.
Though, Nox wasn’t wearing his today.
“Where’s your son?” Cami asked, scanning the group again.
“He’s going to ride with Nox.”
“Oh, so the back of your bike is now empty? That means you’ll be the odd man out. How about you just think of me as one of the kids…Daddy.” She added on the biggest smile she could manage.
He practically bared his teeth at her.
“You can break my cherry by taking me on my first motorcycle ride,” she told him next.
“Jesus,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. “You don’t have a helmet.”
He was going to find any little excuse for her not to go. “Do I need one?” She glanced around. “Not everyone’s wearing one.”
“Anyone under twenty-one needs to wear one,” he advised her, walking stiffly toward his bike parked toward the back of the line-up.
She slapped her thigh and trailed him. “Oh, look, you actually told a joke!”
When they got to his Harley, he grabbed what looked like a plain black half-helmet off the seat and shoved it at her. “Wear this.”
“Then, what will you wear? Or will your thick skull protect your pig-headed brain?”
Ignoring her, he threw one of his long, denim-encased legs over his bike. Once settled into place, he pushed the start button and his engine roared to life. The throaty rumble got her blood rushing the same as the man straddling it.
“You have two seconds to get on before I leave you standing there.” He adjusted his sunglasses and pulled the bandana hanging around his neck up and over the bottom half of his face.
He revved the engine in warning as she scrambled to climb on behind him because she had no doubt that he’d follow through on that threat. She was strapping on the helmet as the rest of the pack circled them, every damn one of them motoring by very slowly and giving Crew a pointed look, a smirk or a cocked eyebrow.
He acted as if he didn’t notice, but she was damn sure he was cursing her under his breath.
The fact was, law enforcement loved to gossip as much as high school girls and without uncertainty, plenty of it would be flying around after this.
He turned his head. “Make sure to hang the fuck on. You fall off, I’m not stopping to pick you up.”
“Then you’ll be down another task force member,” she warned.