Winter Ashby stood next to him, fastening a helmet. I tensed, about to wonder what the hell he thought he was doing out here with the kid. But as she climbed on behind him, he looked over his shoulder at her, something written in his smile I’d never seen in him before. Tenderness. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she squealed as they sped off out of the square, disappearing down a street. I had to smile a little, remembering the pirate ship and how I’d sounded exactly the same last night. I loved that feeling, too, Winter Ashby.
