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-oOo-

When we finally arrived at her lab late the next morning, I was still groggy and hung over from a long night of having the shit repeatedly fucked out of me, but Willow was exuberant, more so than I'd ever seen her. As she worked in the lab, I sat at her desk, using the computer to search for more information about the deaths in Sugar Land. I found an article on the Chronical's website, but the story added little to the information we'd learned from the television the night before.

The Houston Press's story was more sensationalized with more details, the reporter stating the police believed the couple had drowned while engaging in rough sex during an illicit affair. I even learned a new term, Aquaphilia.

"I'm so glad this is over," Willow murmured as she finished reading the articles over my shoulder.

I couldn't stop my smile. "Yeah. Me too."

She straightened. "I have to go see Aunt Pam."

I took her hand. "Remember what I said."

"I will."

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WILLOW

"I have to go," Colt said four days later as we lounged in the bed, kissing and touching before our nightly labors began.

After our night of energetic fucking when we'd heard the news report about what had happened in Sugar Land, our love making had become slower and more gentle. We were going to bed relatively early, snuggling before making slow, sweet love, and then snuggling again as we drifted into blissful sleep. Never had I routinely slept so well or felt so at peace, all my needs met by this wonder man.

"Do you have to?"

"I can't stay here forever. I have my business and the club."

"Can you wait until morning?"

He chuckled. "Yeah... I think I can wait that long."

I pouted, but I knew this day was coming. "You'll come back and see me?"

He smiled as he touched my lips with his finger. "Every chance I get, but the road goes both ways, you know."

"I know. I'll be down there often for a while. I'll drive down on Friday, pick up the core samples, and bring them back on Monday."

"Where are you going to stay between Friday and Monday?"

I looked away so he wouldn't see my smile. "Know any good motels in the area?"

He nudged my chin, drawing me into a soft kiss. "I think I can do better than that."

I exhaled softly as the kiss dissolved. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He held me warm and close for a long moment before he released my hand and gently tugged my lips to his. As our kiss deepened, I forgot about tomorrow as the pleasure of our tonight consumed my entire being.

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COLT

We were making it work. Willow was driving to Rio Lago Friday morning, spending the weekend, and then driving back to Houston Monday afternoon. I'd ridden to Houston and spent a week twice out of the last eight, and though we talked every night, the distance between us was hard, and I could feel the strain in our relationship. Our fucking when she was in town was fiery and passionate as we burned off pent up desire, but we were missing the tenderness we'd felt when I was at her side, and in her bed, every night.

We were in the clubhouse Saturday morning, talking and laughing as we waited for the rest of the club to arrive. She'd been accepted into the club as my squeeze, but the brothers' and sisters' respect for her went up when I'd told them over beers one night how the threat to Willow had been eliminated and our brothers avenged. I'd told Willow to never discuss with anyone what had happened that day, but I trusted these men and women with my life, and talking about it with them had helped me heal even more. Even Maddy had warmed to Willow, and Willow was becoming fast friends with these women.

The club was going to try the Laredo lunch trip again now that everyone was healed up and the wrecked bikes and been repaired or replaced, courtesy of Larke Oil. The scholarship papers were, once again, tucked securely into my inside pocket, and I knew she was looking forward to delivering the news.

As the last of the brothers and their old ladies and squeezes arrived, I pulled Willow into a quick kiss. "Ready to ride?"

She grinned. "Aren't I always?"

That had become our catch phrase, and we were catching plenty shit from my brothers and sisters about the double meaning, the same shit we all used to give Grace. I felt a pang of remorse and regret that I couldn't harass him about his cock always being in Maddy, and perhaps getting the same from him in return.

The ride to Laredo was blessedly uneventful and I couldn't stop smiling as my brothers and sisters ribbed her about how boring the ride had been, causing her to blush furiously. Having them riding her ass told me, more than anything else, she was one of us now.

Inside the restaurant, the club laughed and talked, enjoying each other's company. As we waited on our orders, Willow stood. I knew she'd been practicing what she wanted to say, but she refused to give me a preview. She said nothing, waiting for the grouped tables to notice her and become quiet.

"To the Buitre del Demonio," she said, holding her beer aloft when the tables became quiet. "To fighting, stealing, and killing." She paused a moment to allow the tension to build. "Fighting for what you believe in." She looked at me, her love so plain I couldn't stop my smile. "Stealing a girl's heart," she continued with a soft smile at me. Never in the history of the world had a man love a woman as much as I loved her. "And killing a bottle with your friends."

The table was quiet a moment before I held my mug up higher, the other thirty-four people present doing the same. We all lowered our beverages and completed the toast.

She remained standing, then held her beer up again as her face twisted with sadness. "To Packard, Grace, Juice, and Fish," she said softly, her voice catching as tears welled in her eyes. "To live in the hearts of those they left behind, is not to die."

A soft rumbled went around the tables before we drank to friends departed.

"Dammit," she muttered as she placed her mug on the table, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "I promised myself I wasn't going to cry when I said that."

I rose and pulled her into my arms, holding until she gathered herself. After a moment, she squirmed out of my embrace.

"Okay," she said as she sniffed again and wiped her eyes. "There's just one more thing. Lilly, Maddy, and Lucia, will you join me?"

The three women looked at each other before they rose and joined Willow at the head of the big table. She took the three envelopes with their names on them from me and handed one to each woman.

"I know nothing can bring back Grace, Juice, or Packard, but Larke Oil wants to give you this as small token of our gratitude. Inside are scholarships for each of your children to attend the school of their choice in Texas."

The three women looked at the envelopes, then each other, and then back to Willow, their surprise clear. I began to clap, the rest of the club joined in, and the applause broke their shock.

"Thank you," Maddy whispered as she pulled Willow into a hug, Lilly, and Lucia following Maddy's lead. The three women returned to their chairs, each of them wiping at their eyes as they sat down.

"That's a good thing you did, the toasts and the scholarships," I whispered into Willow's ear as she returned to the chair beside me.

She nodded, smiled, and sniffed as she wiped her eyes, but said nothing. It wouldn't bring the men back, but it would make sure their children were taken care of.

We spent another two hours, enjoying food and companionship, the rumble of happy voices something the club had been too long without.

"Is that your phone?" I asked as I caught a hint of her ring tone.

She pulled her purse to her, extracted the phone, and the pressed the button to receive the call before she held the device to her ear and plugged the other with a finger.

"Hello?" She was quiet for a moment as she went pale. "What's happened?"

"Quiet!" I barked. Something was terribly wrong.

"Oh, no," she breathed. "I'm leaving now. Where is he?" Pause. "I'll be there fast as I can," she said as she stood, grabbing her purse as she did.

"What's wrong?" I asked, the tables silent as we watched Willow.

"It's Dad. He's had a heart attack. I have to go."

Larke was supposed to be picking up the tab, but we didn't have time to fuck around with that. "Big Dick, take care of this!" I ordered as I rose.

"Go! We've got it!" he said without hesitation.

"Let me check for a flight," I murmured as I escorted her to the door. I pulled her to a stop in the parking lot. She was staring into the distance, clearly trying to hold herself together as I swiped and typed as fast as I could. "Shit!" I spat. "We'll never make the current flight, and the next flight isn't until six. We can ride faster than that. Let's go."

I hurried her to my bike where we quickly mounted up. As she settled behind me, I thumbed the hog to life and stomped it into gear. The moment her arms went around me, I revved the bike and let out the clutch to race across the parking lot, the bike accelerating as hard as it could. I barely slowed as I checked for traffic and then banked the bike onto the road. As soon as I squared up, I kicked the bike in the ass and we bellowed away.

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WILLOW

"How is he?" I asked as Colt and I hurried into the hospital. I'd called Aunt Pam as we trotted across the parking lost, and she was waiting for us in the lobby.

"He's resting," she said, pulling me into a hug and then Colt.

"Can I see him?"

"He's sedated, but the doctor said he's going to be okay."

"I have to see him!"

Aunt Pam nodded and led us to the cardiac floor, then into his room. I rushed to Dad's side and took his hand. Colt had again done the near impossible. We'd made the five-hour drive in three hours and forty minutes, Colt's motorcycle bellowing its war song as we raced to Houston. He'd held nothing back, asking for everything his motorcycle it could give him, the rushing wind drying my tears as I clung to him and prayed it was enough.

I looked at Colt as he pulled Aunt Pam to the corner of the room. "How is he, really?"

He was speaking softly, but it was so quiet in the room, and probably because they were standing in the corner, I could hear enough to guess what they were saying. I turned and looked at Dad's ashen face, not wanting them to know I was eavesdropping. She might tell Colt the truth when she wouldn't me.

"Okay. He called 9-1-1 and they got to him in time. There's some additional heart damage, but he'll live. The doctor said he's going to recommend he retire from Larke Oil and take it easy. They give two, maybe three more years if he does, maybe six months if he doesn't. It's the stress, and this business with Willow hasn't helped."

My heart sank knowing was the cause of this.

"That appears to be behind us now," he murmured.

"I know, but it all takes its toll."

"Will he do it?"

"He won't want to, but Willow can convince him."

"He won't listen to the doctors... or you?" he asked.

She spluttered. "You obviously don't know Harris like I do. No. They tried to get him to start slowing down five years ago. You can see what good that did."

"Who will take over?"

"That's up to him. Me or Willow."

There was a short pause, but I didn't dare move. They might step outside the room where I couldn't hear them. "Can she do it?"

"Can she? Probably. Will she want to? That's another matter."

"Why?"

"Her days in the field will be over."

"But that's what she enjoys."

"I know."

"I'll talk to her."

"She'll listen to you," Aunt Pam said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Doesn't she listen to you? Or her father?"

"You obviously don't know her as well as I thought you did. Remember the thing with hiring another security firm?"

"Oh, yeah. There was that."

"Talk to her. Find out what she wants, not what she thinks she should do, but what she actually wants, and I'll try to make it happen."

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COLT

"Pretty nice digs," I teased as I strolled into the new Vice-President's office. This was the first time I'd been in Pam's old office after she'd moved into Harris's office.

"Not bad," Willow said, looking around. "At least I have a window now."

"So, Madam Vice-President, where am I taking you to lunch?"

She grinned. She'd officially had the title for all of three days, and I hadn't let her forget it, calling her Madam Vice-President, or Ms. VP, or some other variation of her new title every chance I got. She liked to pretend she didn't like it, but I could tell she was proud of her new position and didn't actually mind. She also gave it back to me in bed when I laid it on too thick, ordering me around and issuing requirements. It was sexy as shit having her demand that I 'get ready because the Vice-President of Operations needed her best man for drilling.'

It had taken Pam and Willow three months to convince Harris to step down as President and CEO, and to turn company over to Pam, though he kept his hand in as a business consultant. Pam then promoted Willow to her old position. As Vice-President of Operations, Willow could still go out in the field when she wanted to get her boots dirty, but I think she realized her days of being just a geologist were behind her.

Over the months, the physical distance between us became too much of a strain on our relationship. I had another choice to make, but this one had been easy. I'd offered my well company to Goose, and he'd jumped at the chance to expand his business. I still had my house, but I wasn't living there anymore. A month ago, I'd moved to Houston and into Willow's house. Though we didn't talk about it, I think we both knew this was our first step toward marriage. I wanted to wait a year or so, to give our relationship time to normalize, but unless something unexpected turned up while living together, I knew it was only a matter of time before I asked for her hand. Our first night together, after I'd officially moved in, I was surprised the neighbors hadn't come pounding on our door to tell us to hold it down. It was like the night after we'd learned the police had ruled the deaths in Sugar Land an accident, except even more so. Knowing this was our first night of the rest of our lives together had turned the fucking up to eleven. It was a good thing the next day had been a Sunday because Willow and I were both absolutely wrecked.

Even though I was living in Houston, she and I were going to Rio Lago nearly every weekend as we worked to finish the remodel on my house. She seemed to enjoy helping with the work, claimed she liked the sense of accomplishment when finishing a project, and stated it was a welcome change from dealing with meetings, phone calls, emails, and paperwork all week.

The work could go faster, but we were in no hurry. The weekends were as much about giving Willow a getaway from the office as it was getting my house updated. We always got a late start Saturday and Sunday morning because we were unable to start the day before a luxurious couple of hours making love in my bed, the only piece of furniture still in the house. Not that we always used the bed. There were additional delays caused by us christening every room or project when it was completed.

All we had left on the inside of the house were the two bedrooms, which we could probably finish in four or five more trips. After that, I was going to enclose the carport to make it into a garage, do a little landscaping, and then the house would be ready to sell.

Now that I was living in Houston, I'd taken the money from the sale of Tillerman Wells, along with another sizeable investment from Willow's savings, and opened a high-end hardwood, stone, tile, and countertop store. The business was just getting on its feet, but I'd hired a designer to run the store so I could do the installations, the part of the business I enjoyed the most. So far C&W Wood, Stone & Tile had made only a single sale, but hopefully it was the first of many.

"Are you done for the day?" she asked.

"Yep. I just finished up. It looks good and Teresa seems happy. Hopefully I'll get a few referrals out of it."

She began to shuffle papers around on her desk. "Why don't we get to Rio Lago early? There's nothing here that can't wait until Monday."

I grinned. The last few weeks she'd been as glad to get out of Houston as I was. "Sounds good to me. By the way, I talked to Goose on the way here. He's agreed to take over the gavel, and Limpkin sergeant-at-arms."

She sobered. "Are you sure that what you want? I know what the Buitre del Demonio means to you."

My smile spread. "I'm sure. They need a president who's there and I'm only there on the weekends, and soon not even that. I'll still be a member, but..." I shrugged. I didn't have to, but if I did have to choose between the BDMC and Willow, that was another easy choice and I'd turn up my colors.

She picked up her briefcase and smoothed her suit. She still wasn't used to have to dress up every day, but Goddamn was she sexy in a suit. The first night she came home wearing one, it ended up on the floor in the kitchen.

"I've been thinking," she said as she took my arm and I escorted her out of her office. "Sarah, I'm leaving for the day. You can knock off early if you like."

"Thank you, Ms. Larke. I mean, Willow," she amended when Willow gave her a look. "Before you go... Oilman magazine would like to make an appointment with you and Ms. Larke."

"Why?"

"They want to interview you both for a feature article."

"Over what?"

Sarah glanced at her notes. "Something about you and Ms. Larke breaking barriers in the oil industry."

Willow rolled her eyes. "See what Aunt Pam thinks. If she wants to do it, I guess set it up."

"Yes ma'am."

"Anything else?"

"No ma'am."

"Okay. Good." She turned her attention back to me as she tugged me toward the door. "Let's get out of here before anything else comes up." We paused and waited for the elevator. "As I was saying, I've been thinking, and I think we should buy another place in Rio Lago," she continued.

"Why?"

"Because I like getting out of town for the weekends. I want you to teach me to ride, and then I want to buy my own motorcycle."

"You don't have to do that," I said. "I'll get used to the big city."

"I'm not suggesting it for you. I'm suggesting it for me. I miss getting out and digging in the dirt already, and it's only going to get worse. I need to get out of town or I'm going to go crazy. I didn't realize how much I enjoyed going into the field until I can't do it much anymore."

"We could keep my house."

"We could," she acknowledged, "but I was thinking someplace smaller. Maybe we could buy a place and fix it up to be just like we want."

I chuckled. "What happened to the woman who couldn't even change a faucet?"

She blushed. "I've found out that I like doing stuff with my hands. It helps counteract the pushing of paper that I do all week."

"That's a big step. You sure you're ready for that?"

"What's a big step?" she asked as we stopped at her Jeep.

"Buying a house together."

She smiled. "I think so. Are you?"

"I know where a couple are that we should look at. Maybe we could start fixing up houses, live in it for a year or so, sell it, buy another one, and start over."