Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,67
notice she’s gone.”
My daughter peeks up at her. “Yeah, I guess.”
I rub her shoulders. “You two will have a blast.”
Millie sighs, her shoulders curling in. “I know, mama. It’s important for you to be best friends with Ford. Then he’ll never leave us. I just like it when we’re all together.”
A cramp attacks my stomach, but I shove the ache away. Worrying is for tomorrow. For now, I boop her button nose. “Sometimes adults hangout alone, right? Just like kids. But I’ll make it up to you with extra dessert tomorrow. Deal?”
A loud knock interrupts us, sending Elsa into a fit of barks and spins. Millie’s eyes pop open wide and she races to the door. With a whoosh, Crawford is revealed on the stoop in all his leather jacket glory. A haze of his woodsy musk wafts over to me, and I do my best to suppress a shiver.
“Hi, Ford!” She practically tackles him, wrapping her arms right around his legs. Oh, boy. We’re all going down in this sinking ship.
He gives her a few pats on the back. “Hey, Peep.”
They make a rapid gesture of quick movements between them. I belatedly realize they’re doing some secret handshake. My blink is weighed down with disbelief. I nearly tumble into the wall while melting into a puddle of swoon.
Hear that? It’s what’s left of my resistance, crumbling into rubble all around me. This guy is giving me no choice. Options are overrated anyway.
Millie ends their special bonding display with a regular high-five. “Be nice to my mama, okay?”
Crawford’s hazel eyes lift to mine. “I always try my best.”
I quirk a brow at that. He could probably up his game. I’m open to suggesting a few essential areas of improvement. “Nice to see you, Ford.”
“The sentiment is very much mutual. You look”—his throat bobs with a thick swallow—“perfect.”
From anyone else this would be a cliché, but from him it’s heart-stopping. “Hopefully what I’m wearing is good enough for what you have planned.”
“Like I said—perfect. I have a helmet and jacket for you on my bike.”
Millie squeaks by his side. “Can I go for a ride, too?”
“Absolutely not,” I blurt before he can argue otherwise.
My daughter pouts at me. “Why not?”
Crawford nudges her shoulder. “It’s dangerous until you’re older. I wasn’t allowed to ride on a cruiser until I turned sixteen.”
I send him a silent bout of gratitude for stepping in. Being the only bad guy to dish out rules gets old. “And guess what, sweetie? I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”
Millie scrunches her forehead. “You’re so old. Why’d you wait so long?”
“Little turkey.” I give her cheek a light pinch. “I never had a friend who owned one until now.”
Her little mouth forms a circle. “That’s why you wanna go with Ford alone. I get it now.”
I begin nodding slowly. “Uh, yeah. That sounds about right.”
She peers up at Crawford. “Take care of my mama, okay? It’s her first time. She doesn’t know what to do.”
When I look at Crawford, his lips are pressed tight together. The gleaming humor bleeds through his eyes, though. “And on that note, shall we?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
Josey pops up beside me with a coy grin to match the sparkle in her eye. “Make sure to keep her out way past curfew.”
He gives her a salute. “No problem.”
I trap Millie and Josey in a group hug, squeezing until my daughter starts to fuss. “Have fun without me.”
“We will,” my bestie coos.
With a shake of my head, I meet Crawford on the path leading to my driveway. He grips my hip, the action so subtle I barely notice. “Are you excited? Or nervous?”
“Both? I’m not much of a scaredy-cat”—I glare at him when he grunts—“except when it comes to swimming with fish in large bodies of water.”
“If you say so.”
I poke him in his chiseled side, almost breaking a nail. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t even scream.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Only if you want this to be my first and last ride.”
“I won’t be reckless, Kee. You can trust me.”
And I do. Probably more than I should. The opportunity to ponder why that might be disappears as we reach his black and chrome iron steed. The Harley is impressive, even to a novice who knows nothing about the machines. The spot reserved for a passenger halts my appraisal.
“I can see you get a lot of company.” The grit in my voice is unmistakable. I shake off the green monster, gluing a perky grin on my