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“Since when do you drive a cage, Dex?” Griff calls out as he jumps from the cab of the truck.
“It’s not mine.” Dex walks over and shakes Griff’s hand. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”
“No problem.” Griff leans past Dex’s shoulder and lifts his hand in a quick wave. “Hey, Emily.”
“Hi. Thanks for this.” I sweep my hand toward my traitorous vehicle.
The two of them walk over to the front of the car, discussing what could be wrong with it. I take the time to grab my purse and the lunch I packed and check inside for anything else I might need. Who knows when I’ll see my poor car again?
Bang!The hood drops closed.
I jump so high my head hits the ceiling. “Ow. Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing the top of my head.
“Sorry about that.” Dex leans in my open door and offers his hand.
His concern burns away my embarrassment. “I’m good.”
I rest my hand in his and let him tug me out of the car. My stomach flips as our bodies briefly touch. He rubs his fingers over my scalp, intensifying the swoony sensation. Such a gentle touch for such a big man.
“You okay?” he asks in a deep, soothing voice.
It’s not the bonk to my head that has my body demanding I fall into his arms. It’shim. Electricity seems to crackle in the air. Probably one-sided on my part. Usually indifference surrounds him like a cloud of steam. Although, once or twice I’ve thought I detected a glimmer of interest. “I’m good.” Nervous laughter flutters past my lips and I pull away.
“I’ve got this.” Griff waves Dex and me away. “Don’t make her even later for work.”
“Wait. Where are you taking it?” I ask.
“Do you have a dealership it should go to?” Griff asks.
“I’m not that fancy,” I scoff. “I’m not even sure the mechanic my aunt used to go to is still in business.”
“Well, we mostly do classics.” Griff glances at my car again. “But my shop can probably handle this. If not, we’ll get you sorted.”
“Thanks.”
Dex echoes my gratitude and shakes Griff’s hand again, then leads me toward his bike.
“I’m sorry I’m causing you so many problems this morning. I’m sure you had other things to do,” I say as we begin the long trek to his bike. At least now my sneakered feet are more stable walking over the gravel that threatened to trip me in my heels.
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to deny it, then shakes his head. “Stop apologizing, Emily. I’m glad I was here to help. Who knows how long you would’ve been waiting around otherwise?”
“Thanks.”
Behind us, there’s a scuffling over the rocks. “Dex!” Griff calls out. “Wait up.”
We turn and Griff’s jogging toward us with a helmet tucked under his arm.
“She might need this.” He stops and holds out the helmet to me, but he’s looking to Dex for confirmation. “I assume you’re not running around with a spare.”
For a second, Dex’s expression turns hard, maybe even angry, but then it’s gone. “You’re right. Thanks.”
I accept the plain, black helmet. It’s heavier than I’d expected.
“It’s Molly’s,” Griff explains. “But it should fit.”
My thumb rubs against something rough and I take a closer look. Someone’s stuck a clear sticker withSupport your local LOKIin dark blue letters on the back of the helmet. I turn it toward Dex. “LOKI is short for Lost Kings, I assume?”
He stares at it for a second, then frowns.
