Chapter Three
Oktober
I spotted her the moment she emerged from the tree line, a hesitant figure silhouetted against the deepening purple of dusk.
Mia. She twisted her hands in front of her as she approached our cabin, her steps slowing.
I set my beer bottle on the deck railing and stood.
The bonfire cast enough light for me to see the uncertainty in her face, the way she chewed at her lower lip…
beautiful, even in her nervousness. I descended the steps with deliberate casualness, not wanting to spook her.
“You came,” I called, letting a smile spread across my face.
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Ada and Violet can be very persuasive.”
“They mentioned you might join us.” I closed the distance between us, pulled a cold beer from the cooler at my feet, and held it out to her. “Welcome to the madhouse.”
She took the bottle, her fingers brushing mine. “Thanks.”
I gestured toward the fire where my brothers and their women lounged on logs and camp chairs. “Come meet everyone properly.”
The bonfire popped and hissed as we approached, sending the occasional spray of orange sparks skyward. Tiny looked up from where he sat with his arm draped around Penny, nodding a greeting. One by one, conversations paused as heads turned.
“Everyone,” I announced, “this is Mia. She’s staying in the cabin next door.
” I pointed to each person as I named them, watching Mia’s eyes widen slightly as she processed the collection of tattooed, leather-clad figures arrayed around the fire.
“That’s Tiny and Penny. Ada and Jag. Riot and Violet.
Sully and Darby.” Everyone welcomed Mia warmly.
The night air carried the scent of pine and wood smoke, mingled with the sharp bite of whiskey and the faint perfume from Mia’s hair. Behind us, music played from the cabin’s outdoor speakers, classic rock turned down low enough for conversation.
Penny leaned forward. “So, Mia. What brings you to our little slice of paradise?”
“A vacation gone sideways,” she answered, her voice tight. My instincts wanted to pull her closer to me and shelter her from the obvious pain she endured.
Ada gave her a cautious look. “Good or bad?”
Mia looked like she considered Ada’s question carefully before she made an attempt to answer. “I’m not really sure yet. But I think, maybe, everything’s going to work out for the best.”
After that, conversation flowed easily. I watched Mia with undisguised interest. The woman fascinated me.
The rigid line of her shoulders gradually softened.
Her laughter, hesitant at first, grew more genuine.
When she emptied her beer, I offered her whiskey instead.
She accepted with a raised eyebrow that said she knew exactly what I was doing.
“Corrupting the innocent?” she murmured as I poured.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re as innocent as you look.” I handed her the glass, making sure our fingers touched.
A flush spread across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire’s heat. She took a sip and failed to suppress a small cough.
“Easy,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s not a race.”
She gave me a look. “Lead with that next time, yeah?” Then she took another, more deliberate sip. This time she didn’t cough. God, I was so fucked.
As the night deepened, the whiskey worked its magic. Mia’s laugh came more freely. “How long has it been since you had a night like this?” I asked.
She considered the question, twirling her glass between her fingers. “Honestly? I can’t remember.”
“That’s fucked up,” I said, not unkindly.
“Yeah.” She stared into the fire. “It really is.”
Another hour passed. More whiskey was poured. Someone threw another log on the fire, sending a fresh cascade of sparks into the night sky. Mia leaned slightly against my shoulder, her warmth seeping through my T-shirt.
“I caught my boyfriend fucking my best friend two days ago,” she said suddenly, the words tumbling out in a rush.
The conversations around us died. Every head turned.
“In our bed,” she continued, her voice steadier than I expected.
“I came home early from a conference to maybe get a head start on this trip, and there they were.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ada breathed.
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.
“M?nner 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 schon, 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, K?tzchen.” 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?”
“In a heartbeat.” I held her gaze, letting her see the truth of it. “My brother had a wife, kids. I had nothing but the club and they made sure I had help on the inside. Easy choice.”
A shiver ran through her, visible in the firelight. The temperature had dropped as we talked, the night air turning crisp against our skin.
“Cold?” I asked.
“A little.” She smiled up at me. “The night air always seems to have a chill, no matter what time of year.”