I'd Rather Not (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 3)

He had bruises on his face, arms, neck, and torso, along with cuts and scrapes from shrapnel. I took a moment to study his body tattoo free.

It was different.

Way different.

Not bad different, but just different.

I knew the Pace now, and the Pace then definitely didn’t make my eyes as pleased as the Pace now.

Then there were the abdominals.

He still had the same abs. The same happy trail that ran along his navel. The same V that accentuated his lower belly in such an aesthetically pleasing way.

And he still had the same smile.

Even hurt, broken, and missing two legs, he was smiling.

But, according to the picture and the comments, that wasn’t unusual for Pace Vineyard. He always made sure to have a smile on his face, no matter what.

Which was something I was quickly becoming more than aware of.

I bit my lip and started typing, then deleted the message and started all over again.

I was two sentences in to my fourth re-write when I got a text from the man of the hour.

I blinked in confusion at the words.

Pace: Just say it already. It’s exhausting watching those bubbles blink.

My lips twitched when I finally understood what was going on.

He’d been looking at the text thread—had to be—if he knew that I was typing to him.

Grinning like a dumbass, I typed out my new reply after deleting the old one.

Oakley: How do you know that I was going to say something? Maybe I just wanted to write myself a reminder or something, and your text thread was the first thing that pulled up.

Pace: Huge eye roll. You could’ve pulled up notes for that. And if you were going to pull up the first text thread you saw, you would’ve pulled up your mother’s. Ask me how I know that she’s going to be your first text thread.

I was almost afraid to ask.

Oakley: How?

Pace: Because she’s called me every single day since she left for home. She’s also texted me at least four times a day. Though, those are funny memes, so I’m not complaining. Looks like I’m in the rotation on her ‘check on the kids’ list.

I shook my head in exasperation.

Oakley: You’ll know you really made it when she adds you to the group chat. Be afraid of that one. It’s never ending, and my mom and I talk a lot.

And, as if on cue, my mother sent out a text to the group chat. Only, this one wasn’t our usual thread. It was a brand new one. This one including all her boys—even Pace.

Viddy: How is everyone doing?

Pace wasn’t long in replying.

Pace: Who is this?

Ford: My mother. Welcome to hell.

Banner: Double hell.

Trance: Hell on steroids.

Oakley: Hey, Ford. Will you bring your lawnmower over…and your machete? I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to cut the grass with a machete at this point. But you could try the lawnmower first.

Ford: How did you know that I’m free and coming?

Oakley: I have powers of observation. Plus, I’ve seen you drive by my house twice this week. I also know that you saw my lawn and how long it’s gotten.

Trance: Mow your sister’s lawn.

Ford: Only if she gives me something in return. I don’t do things for free.

Pace: I’ll mow your lawn for you, Oakley.

Viddy: Such a sweet boy. Ford Bryce Spurlock. You will mow her lawn. You will also make sure it’s done in a timely manner so Pace doesn’t consider doing it himself. You have a day and a half. Otherwise I won’t bring you Lulu.

Lulu was my brother’s dog. One of the puppies from a litter of puppies that my father’s dog had. Lulu had been under training just like the other puppies my father had brought with him last month, but like my Jagger, she just wasn’t cut out for police work.

Lulu was now officially eight weeks old and would be able to survive away from her mom.

Dad had told me when he’d left that he was going to pull Lulu off of training, but I hadn’t realized that Ford had asked for her. Nor had I realized that Ford was…

Oakley: Does you getting a dog mean that you’re **done** with the military?

The idea of him no longer putting himself in danger was a great one.

I didn’t like him over there on the other side of the world, risking his life.

He was my baby brother. I loved him.

What I did not love was the idea of him having to deal with roadside bombings and sniper bullets.

Ford: Resigned my commission before your surgery.

I felt joy in my heart.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like the military…I just liked my brother.

Secretly, of course.

Oakley: and you didn’t tell me?

Ford: you had other things on your mind…how are you feeling by the way? Both of you.

Oakley: Why don’t you come over and ask?

Ford: Been busy.