“Lexie!”
“I’m just saying.”
After my little texting session with Jagger, I finally caved and filled the girls in about everything happening between me and Jagger. Okay, not everything, but more than enough for them to piece things together. Lexie’s been teasing me ever since.
“I think it’s sweet,” June defends from the back seat.
“Because you’re a romantic,” Lexie says. “Don’t worry. It'll pass.”
I smack my best friend’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to her, June. Lexie’s used to dealing with the scum of the earth during her job, so she’s a little jaded when it comes to the opposite sex.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Lexie laughs. “And you would be, too, if you saw how many of those guys have rings on their fingers,” she adds, defending herself. “Oh, and don’t forget to leave your phone in the car.”
June frowns. “Why?”
“Because the Harden brothers don’t want any of their shenanigans recorded,” Lexie explains.
June’s eyes bulge, but she doesn’t question Lexie. Honestly, I’m not sure June is a person to question anyone. She’s too nice for that. Instead, she simply takes her phone from her purse and hands it to me. After tucking everyone’s cells into the center console, we head toward the glowing lights on the opposite side of the old airfield. The flat strip of ground is probably 100 acres in total and was used for small, private planes and few baby airlines before it was shut down about twenty years ago. Now, it’s simply another patch of pavement and grass on the west side of The Drift.
“Why, hello again, Paulson,” Lexie greets him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
The stoic man almost cracks as he moves forward to pat her down.
“What are they doing?” June whispers beside me, and I swear I can feel her anxiety ratchet up a few more notches.
“Checking to make sure we don’t have our phones,” I reply.
Paulson looks up at me. “Your turn.”
I move forward and lift my arms, letting him search me. Then, he does the same to June. Satisfied, he moves aside, giving us access to the party.
Like a little girl’s first time at Disneyland, June looks around the crowded street. Her lips part, and her eyes glaze with curiosity. “Is it always like this?”
“You mean, crowded and noisy and with an undertone of gritty bad boy energy you could totally get high from?” Lexie threads her arms through mine and June’s, leading us toward a lime green car with its hood raised. “Yup. Always.”
When we reach it, Lexie untangles herself from us and drags her fingertips along the edge of the engine, letting out a low whistle. “Well, isn’t this a pretty color.”
“You got a thing for cars?” a low voice interrupts.
Lexie’s smile falls when she glances over her shoulder to find the culprit. “Well, if it isn’t the infamous Robin.” She clicks her black nails against the car. “Personally, I’m more of a motorcycle girlie, but to each their own. Is this one yours?”
“Nah, this one’s mine,” Ford announces. “Hawke prefers his bike, too. I’m sure he’d love to give you a ride.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Nope. The man looks suspicious. Scratch that. He looks at me likeI’mthe suspicious one. “I see my brother extended an invitation to you.”
“Seems he did,” I reply cooly.
His head bobs in a single nod as if coming to some kind of conclusion, but I have no idea what it is. “Good seeing you again, Violet. I like the hoodie.” The suspicious undertone is missing this time, and my muscles ease from the subtle shift. Ford isn’t a bad guy. None of the Harden brothers are. I witnessed it firsthand when I showed up on their doorstep unannounced and they let me in, no questions asked. Okay, that’s a lie. Jagger had a shit-ton of questions, but still. Ford isn’t a bad guy. I think he’s just a little overprotective of his brother, and if the roles were reversed, I’d be the same way.
“Nice to see you, too,” I tell him. “And…” I look down at the hoodie we both know belongs to his older brother. “It was a littlecolder than I was expecting it to be when I got out of my car, and it was the only thing in there, so I threw it on.”
“Of course, it was.” Ford glances at June. The man does a double-take, his eyes flaring with interest. “Why, hello, new girl.”
June smooths out the front of her blouse, her cheeks tinging pink. I don’t blame her. Ford’s something else, and it’s clear she’s piqued his curiosity.
“And you are?” Ford prods.
“J-June.”
“My favorite month of the year.” My snort knocks him down a few pegs, or at least it would if he was a normal human being. Instead, the man’s chest puffs out with pride, and he offers his hand. “I’m Ford.”
