He shoved his phone into his pocket and headed over to Justin’s.
Justin, Dwayne, and Zander, one of Justin’s younger brothers and also a Dark Knight, were waiting out front when he arrived. Dwayne looked up from his phone briefly as Gavin cut the engine and climbed off his bike. Then he went back to whatever he was looking at on his phone.
“Hard time cutting that ball and chain?” Zander flashed an arrogant smile and raked a hand through his thick brown hair. “I’ve got metal cutters to set you free.”
“The only shackles in my house are the ones we’re both into, asshole.” Gavin chuckled and shook his hand. “Good to see you, man. We’re having a get-together tonight. You should swing by and meet Harper.” He’d invited Dwayne and Justin the other night, when he and Harper had seen them at Common Grounds.
“Thanks, man,” Zander said. “Justin said your old lady’s pretty sweet, but that comment just kicked her up to the fucking hot category.”
“That she is.” Gavin glanced at Justin, who shrugged. He knew Zander was just talking shit, but his protective urges surged and he said, “Keep yourself in check around her, because if you step out of line, I will fuck you up.”
“Shit,” Zander said sarcastically.
“Watch yourself, Zan,” Justin said. “Gavin may look like a gentleman, but he’s an animal.” He bumped fists with Gavin and said, “Harper didn’t want to ride today?”
Harper had gone riding with them twice, and she’d loved it. “She’s still hammering out those movie revisions. She’ll come next weekend.”
“Cool.”
Dwayne shoved his phone in his pocket and said, “You ladies want to do your hair next, or can we take this party on the road?”
“Chill, dude.” Zander grabbed his helmet and glanced at Gavin. “Are there going to be any single chicks at your place tonight?”
“Sure, Chloe, Steph, Daphne, and Harper’s friend Tegan.”
Dwayne looked over and said, “Go near Steph and I’ll break your fingers, Z-man.”
Zander scoffed.
“Same goes for Chloe,” Justin said with a menacing stare. “She’s a lady. She doesn’t need you sniffing around.”
Zander straddled his bike and said, “I know what the ladies like.” He made an obscene gesture with his tongue.
Justin stepped forward and Gavin grabbed his arm, stopping him. “He’s trying to piss you off. It’s what brothers do, man. Ignore it or make her yours.”
Justin wrenched his arm free, glowering at Zander as he said, “Don’t be a dick, Zan. Chicks hate dicks.”
“Then you’re doing something wrong, because chicks love my dick.” Zander put on his helmet, ending the conversation.
Gavin chuckled as they climbed on their bikes and started them up.
Justin rode by Zander, and Zander flicked him off.
All three of Justin’s brothers were good guys, but they loved to give each other shit. Hell, didn’t all brothers? Beckett had called Gavin at the ass-crack of dawn to wish him a happy birthday, like he did every year. He’d been out with their friends riding horses since four in the morning, and Gavin got to say hello to all of them. It was awesome. He was looking forward to introducing all of his friends to Harper over Thanksgiving, when they were heading to Oak Falls.
Justin sped down the driveway, and as Gavin fell into line between Zander and Dwayne, his thoughts returned to Harper, the way they always did. Some people had a happy place or the thing they did that brought them the most joy. He knew their long motorcycle rides filled both those spots for his buddies, but while Gavin loved his guy time, Harper had become his happiest place and his biggest thrill.
Three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
AFTER HIS RIDE, Gavin blew through his front door feeling invigorated, his body still vibrating from the hours he’d spent straddling his bike. He put his helmet and keys on the table by the door, shrugged off his coat, and hollered in the direction of the sunroom as he headed for the bedroom, “Babe, I just need to shower off and then the birthday boy wants to play. Meet me in the bedroom.” He tugged off his shirt, and as he threw open the bedroom door, he called over his shoulder, “Naked!”
“Surprise!”
“Holy fu—” His parents’ smiling faces came into focus among a sea of helium balloons. Beckett stood a few feet away, doubled over in laughter. It took a minute for Gavin to make sense of seeing them there. “Mom? Dad?” He felt Harper’s hand on his back and turned to meet her beautiful blushing face, and his heart filled to near bursting. “Baby, you did this?”
“We couldn’t celebrate your birthday without your family,” she said. “When Nana told me it was your birthday, I called your mom back and asked if they could manage a weekend trip.”
“Aw, babe.” He pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple as he tried to reel in his emotions. “You’ve been planning it all this time?”
She nodded. “I picked them up at the Provincetown Airport two hours ago. I’m sorry my parents are out of town, but they promised to have dinner with us after they get back.”
“I’d love that.”
“Harper is a doll, Gavin,” his mother said, smiling warmly at Harper. Her dirty-blond hair brushed her shoulders. It had grown longer since he’d last seen her. “She’s been the perfect hostess. No wonder you’ve sounded like a different person this summer. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
His mother hugged him tight. She smelled familiar, eliciting all his best childhood memories, causing his chest to constrict. She lowered her voice and said, “And don’t worry about the naked comment. We understand young love.”
Christ. He looked over her shoulder at Beckett, who was smirking, and said, “You could have warned me, Beck. I talked to you at four thirty this morning.”
“And ruin the surprise?” Beckett said. “I’d never disappoint Harper like that.”
Smart-ass.
“We swore him to secrecy,” his father said.
The sleeves of his father’s light-blue button-down were rolled up to his forearms, revealing a scar he’d gotten when Gavin was seven. Memories of that fateful afternoon rolled in. They’d been fishing, and his father had given a fishing knife to Gavin to cut a line. Beckett had called Gavin’s name, and Gavin had turned, accidentally slicing open his father’s arm. Gavin would never forget the terrifying sight of blood gushing from his father’s arm or how his father had calmly taken his sobbing son by the shoulders, seemingly oblivious to his own pain, and forced Gavin to look him in the eyes as he said, I’m fine, buddy. This is nothing. Accidents happen, but this is why you need to always focus on what you’re doing and not on the nonsense around you. Let me wrap my arm, and we’ll try again. As he’d tied his T-shirt around the wound, he’d lectured Gavin and Beckett about safety for what felt like the millionth—and the first—time. That time, Gavin had listened. Always the teacher, his father had patiently helped Gavin cut the line, and then he’d taken them home and had gone alone to the hospital, where he’d received seven stitches.