Three Wishes by Kristen Ashley

confused. He had to know he was kind, for goodness sake, it wasn’t as if she told him he was Superman and she thought he could catch bullets with his teeth.
    He found his control and she was happy for that as he seemed to need it, seemed to wear it like armour.
    Then he remarked, “I must say, Lily, I’m delighted your purse was snatched.”
    “ What? ” she said somewhat loudly on an effervescent giggle.
    “If it hadn’t been, we may never have met you,” he explained, taking her hand and patting it in a fatherly gesture that seemed entirely out of character for him.
    “What’s going on?” Jeffrey was slouching against the wall of the entry, his arms crossed on his chest, his face registering his unhappiness.
    Lily and Victor finished descending the stairs and at the sight of Jeff, Lily felt a twinge of guilt she didn’t quite understand. She also noted that there was a difference to how Jeffrey stood with his shoulder against the wall than how Nate did it. Jeff’s was an insouciant slouch while Nate’s was a predatory lean .
    “Lily and I were sharing a private moment,” Victor stated, his voice somehow shut off.
    “Lily seems to be amassing a fair few private moments with members of the family in a very short period of time,” Jeff commented.
    Something about his words stung and the way he said them made it stunningly clear that was his intention.
    Victor’s face turned to stone as he stared at his son.
    “Oh Lily, you look lovely!” Laura was coming out of the drawing room no doubt heralded by Lily’s near-shout and thankfully broke the odd tense moment. She was followed by Nate and at the sight of him, Jeff’s residual sting faded away and Lily caught her breath.
    It was the first time she’d seen him when he wasn’t wearing a suit, instead he was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a black, v-necked sweater and black boots.
    And he looked absolutely beautiful.
    “It’s going to be hard for her to get on your bike in that get-up.” Jeff’s voice had gone from glum and contentious to jovial and vaguely snotty.
    “Bike?” Lily murmured, confused, her awe at the sight of Nate melting.
    “You can take the Jag,” Victor offered.
    “You rode here on a bike?” She stared at Nate, the very thought of Nate on a bike was preposterous. Romantic heroes didn’t pedal around on bikes. It was, of course, London where bicycles were likely the best and easiest transport but she just couldn’t credit it and she found it somewhat disappointing even though she knew that was not very nice.
    “The car, unfortunately, was scheduled to go in for a service. We’ll take a taxi,” Nate explained.
    “Bike?” Lily repeated, still at a loss.
    Jeff pushed away from the wall.
    “Yeah, his Ducati. Nate likes to go fast, live dangerously, that kind of thing.” This was said in a way that was cutting but it seemed there was jealousy underlying his tone.
    “What’s a Ducati?” Lily turned to Victor, still bemused but Laura answered her.
    “A motorcycle, my dear, and he shouldn’t ride it. It’s dangerous. I keep telling him he’s going to kill himself, racing around on a motorcycle and in that blasted sports car but does he listen to his mother? No, he most certainly does not.”
    Her eyes flew to Nate with delight.
    A motorcycle!
    Lily completely dismissed the idea of a man like Nate, a man who looked like Nate, a man who acted like Nate, a man who rode a motorcycle (like Nate), listening to his mother ever.
    All she could think about was his motorcycle.
    Her father had a motorcycle; he used to take her out on it all the time because she’d beg him to do it. She loved it, loved being out in the open air. She loved the speed, the danger (though there was no real danger, Will was always very careful and never took chances, but she could pretend).
    Therefore she cried excitedly, “I love motorcycles!”
    She had been telling herself all day to be cool, calm and collected. To act the sophisticate, as she was