“It’s such a beautiful night,” she said as she picked up a chip and dipped it in the salsa that sat in the middle of the table. “I’m glad it’s not too hot. We lucked out.” She smiled and her whole face lit up like a star on the darkest night. Without thinking, he reached out and rubbed his thumb under her lip. She pulled back slightly, her smile dissipating.
“Don’t stop. I love the way you smile. It lights up your whole face, like a beam of sunshine.”
She licked her lips and he followed her movement. “You’re a very unique man. I can’t quite figure you out.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re president of an outlaw club. You’re definitely a hothead.” She put her hand up near his face as if to stop any comments by him. “You are and you know it. You wear a smirk on your handsome face most of the time, yet you say things that are so beautiful. Even romantic.” She shook her head. “I just can’t figure you out.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
She burst out laughing. “Youknowyou are. And it figures that’s all you got out of what I said.”
He leaned back and smirked on purpose. “I appreciate a pretty woman with a nice smile. I tend to relate things to nature due to my heritage. The Navajos have a deep relationship with nature—they respect and fear it at the same time. There’s nothing I like doing more than taking off on my bike and getting lost in the solitude of a mountain peak or valley. It cleanses the soul.”
She placed her hand on his and squeezed it. “You’re an anomaly among bikers, and I mean that in a good way.”
“And you’re different from government workers I’ve dealt with in the past.” He slipped his hand on top of hers, brought it to his mouth, and kissed it. “And that’s fucking awesome.”
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only when the waitress came up with two steaming plates. “Tamale platter?” Her eyes darted between them. Steel jerked his chin at her and she set his dinner in front of him. She placed a smothered burrito in front of Breanna, checked if they wanted anything else, and rushed away.
“Are you going to share with me how you got the scar on your face?” Breanna asked as she cut into her burrito.
“Sure. I got in a knife fight about ten years ago. Sonofabitch was asking for it from the moment he walked into the bar. I was in Pueblo hanging with some buddies I used to go to high school with, and a couple of assholes started shit up with me. I was wearing my cut, and they kept asking me if I was a badass biker.” He shrugged and took a drink of beer. “I showed them I was. Believe me, their scars look worse than mine.”
“Did you get arrested?”
“Nah. The owner of the bar was a good friend of one of my buddies. He waited to see how things played out before he called the badges. By the time they got there, I was gone. When I got back here, I crashed at the rez and the medicine man fixed me up.”
“What happened to the two guys?”
“I heard they ended up in the hospital.”
“So you got in a fight because they challenged you?” She put her fork down.
He shook his head. “No, I cut them when they touched my colors. They’re just lucky I didn’t kill ’em. I would have, but my buddies stopped me.” He scooped up the green chili with a chip, then plopped it in his mouth.
“Your colors? Refresh my memory. They’re your logo, right?”
“They’re more than a club’s logo. They’re the club’s identity. It’s the patch that full members wear, and it isn’t earned easily. Someone disrespects your patch, they disrespect you and the whole brotherhood. In my world, respect will be given, or it will be taken. I know brothers who are serving time for killing someone who disrespected their patch. It’s everything.” He clenched his jaw. Just thinking about the fucking assholes who disregarded his colors made his blood boil.Fucking morons!
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I shouldn’t have been so nosy.” She placed her fork down and when he raised his eyes they met hers.
“I’m not upset. My world is pretty simple. We see things as black or white. A person gives respect, he gets it back, but if he doesn’t he becomes just another victim.” He pushed his empty plate away and leaned back, his gaze scanning her tight face. “Easy.”
The corner of her mouth went up slightly, and then she began arranging the sugar in the ceramic holder. After she finished, she started organizing the various hot sauces by size.
Steel looked on in amusement. “They’re just gonna get all mixed up again.”
She glanced at him, her cheeks reddened as she pulled her hands toward her and then clasped them together. “I’m a compulsive organizer,” she scoffed.
“You told me your old man was a biker. You shouldn’t be surprised about what I just told you. It’s our world.”
“I know. I guess I didn’t know all the particulars of it. I mean, I guessed about a lot of stuff, but I wasn’t privy to the ins and outs of it. My dad was rarely home, and when he was, he was consumed with my mom. He basically ignored us. The only attention we got was either his threats or his leather belt against the back of our thighs. Nice man, huh?”
“Sounds like my old man. Fuck them. We survived in spite of them. You want another drink? You look like you could use one.”
Her smile warmed him. He didn’t want their night out to be clouded by fear, hate, and loathing.
