Penny’s eyes narrowed to slits.“Did you murder them?Because that’s justifiable homicide in at least twelve states.”
Mia’s surprised laugh held a bitter edge.“No.I just… left.”
“You should have set the bed on fire,” Violet said with surprising vehemence.“With them still in it.”
“Slash his tires first,” Darby suggested.“Then the fire.Go all Carrie Underwood on his ass if he’s got a fancy ride.”
Mia’s laughter turned genuine, her shoulders shaking as the women escalated their revenge fantasies to increasingly creative heights.
“Männer ohne Ehre verdienen keine Gnade,” I muttered, feeling my jaw tighten.Men without honor deserve no mercy.The thought of someone betraying this woman’s trust made something dark and primal twist in my gut.
Mia turned to me.“What does that mean?”
I shook my head.“Nothing important.”I poured more whiskey into her glass, careful not to overfill it.“Just thinking aloud.”
“In German?”
“Ja.”I gave her a half-smile.“Some thoughts come out better that way.”
Her eyes searched mine, seeing more than I’d intended to reveal.“Tell me something in German,” she said softly.
I hesitated, then leaned closer to her ear.“Du bist zu schön, um so traurig zu sein.”You’re too beautiful to be so sad.
“What does that mean?”Her breath warmed my neck.
“That’s for me to know.”I shifted back, acutely aware of how close we sat, how easily I could brush her hair from her face or trace the curve of her lower lip with my thumb.“And for you to find out.Eventually.”
Mia held my gaze for a long moment before turning back to the fire.But she didn’t move away.If anything, she leaned more firmly against my shoulder, as if testing the solidity of my presence.I slid my arm behind her on the log, not quite touching her waist but close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body.Close enough to catch her if she fell.
Not that I expected her to fall.There was a strength in Mia, a keen intelligence that wouldn’t allow her to do anything but stand on her own.Didn’t mean she didn’t need someone to have her back.Just meant that I’d have to work for the right to be that man.And, really, I had no doubt I would make this claim on Mia.I had no right and I doubted she needed a roughneck biker ex-con in her life while she nursed her broken heart.But I knew I could never stay away.
One by one, my brothers and their women drifted away until only Mia and I remained, sitting side by side as the fire burned down to embers that painted her face in shades of copper and gold.The night had deepened around us, stars punching through the darkness overhead in brilliant clarity, the kind of sky you only get away from city lights.A deeper silence settled over the lake, broken only by the occasional pop of the fire and the rhythmic pulse of night insects in the surrounding pines.
“You don’t have to stay,” Mia said, rolling her empty glass between her palms.“If you want to head in.”
“I’m right where I want to be.”I tossed another small log onto the embers.Flames licked up around it, casting new light across her features.“Unless you’re tired?”
She shook her head, her hair shifting around her shoulders.“Not yet.”Her words were slightly slurred from the whiskey.
Silence stretched between us, comfortable rather than awkward.I leaned back, bracing myself with my palms flat on the log.“I grew up in Munich,” I said, not entirely sure why I felt compelled to offer this piece of myself.“My mother taught German literature at the university there.My father ran a machine shop.Not a pretty marriage, but they made it work.”
Mia turned toward me, her knee brushing against mine.“How did you end up here?”
“The usual way.One foot in front of the other.”I smiled to take the sting from my deflection.“My father sent me to apprentice with his cousin in Berlin when I was sixteen.Thought I needed a man’s influence.I learned engines instead of literature, and learned them well.When the cousin died, I took the insurance money and bought a plane ticket to America.”
“That easy, huh?”
“Nothing worth doing is easy,Kätzchen.”The endearment slipped out before I could catch it so I hurried to continue before she could ask me what the word meant.“I worked my way across the country.Found my way to Nashville.Found the club.Found myself, eventually.”
“After a few detours?”Something in her tone told me she’d caught the gaps in my story.
“After many detours.”I sighed, letting my gaze drift to the dying fire.“Including three years in a federal prison.”
To her credit, she didn’t flinch or pull away.“For what?”
“I took the blame for something I didn’t do.”I shrugged.“Someone had to, and I had the least to lose.”
She studied my face.“Would you do it again?”
