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Present day—The Dickxie Mansion, Nashville
“Can you get the pecan pie out of the oven?” I ask Gunner.
“Yes. You made pie,” he says, making love to the dessert with his eyes when he takes it out.
“See? You do love me, Squirrel.” He tries to steal a piece but I slap his hand away. When I turn my back for a second the maniac yells, “you snooze you lose,” taking a piece of cake and running back to the dining room.
I grin, looking around the dinner table. All the guys are here, plus Max and Tommy, his boyfriend of three years. Axl and Austin are leaving on tour tomorrow with the cousins, and I want to give them a good send-off.
Frankie is sitting next to Tommy and Wyatt, laughing about something Wyatt’s telling him. Navarone has been swapping stories with Max and Evan. Axl seems to be having a great time listening to the conversations flowing around us while music plays in the background.
Austin walks into the kitchen. “Can I take the coffee out?”
“Sure thing, hon,” I say, winking at him.
“Who wants pie?” Gunner shouts. Everyone holds up their hand.
I sit back down and immediately I’m drawn to Navarone, who doesn’t see me staring at him. Max does and gives me a knowing smile.
We eat our dessert and later, the boys migrate to the porch to smoke and light the fire pit.
Max stays back, helping me with the plates. “How are you, kid?” he asks.
I sigh; it never gets old, looking at him. He is strikingly handsome and it takes your breath away. But he has nothing on Navarone. I catch myself peeking out to the porch and watching the man in question. After lighting another cigarette, Rone grins and blows out the smoke, his eyes glistening in the firelight while focusing on Wyatt, explaining something to him.
When Navarone catches my stare, he flashes me one of his crooked grins. And my cheeks blush when he winks at me. He cracks up laughing, telling my cousin something and motioning with his hands like he always does. His deep voice warms me, and I feel feverish all of a sudden.
I exhale hard through my nose, steadying my racing heart, and Max notices it. “I haven’t seen that look in your eyes before.”
“What?” I ask, leaning against the marble kitchen counter.
“Don’t act, honey. You’re never going to get an Oscar,” he replies, all serious-like.
I burst out laughing. “You have a way with words, Maxie.”
He leans against the sink next to me. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he says, joking. “Life’s too short, not to take a chance. Remember that,” he tells me, and I know he’s right.
I look at Navarone. Life’s too short.
Max and I make our way outside, handing out beers to the guys as we walk. The warmth of the fire pit heats my cheeks, and I smile. Austin is talking to Sterling, laughing and motioning to the Harleys standing in the shed.
“I had a good talk with Evan. He’s—” Max says, stopping next to me.
“He’s hurting, isn’t he?” I whisper, staring into the flames.
Max nods.
“What about Evan?” Frankie asks, suddenly standing beside us.
We both look up when Evan chooses that exact moment to head over. “Who said my name?” he asks, taking a swig from his beer. I can feel the tension between Frankie and him.
“We were talking about ...” I start, trying to find a topic to spin the situation.
Evan locks eyes with Frankie. Frank is swaying from side to side. Shit, he’s drunk.
“About how he hasn’t had any pussy?” Frank says, beaming and laughing at his own lame joke. I know he says it to hurt Evan, whose jaw twitches when he balls his fists. Damn it, Frank.
Cursing under his breath, Evan stalks away.
