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Micah didn’t have a problem dropping us off at home and joining Abby, walking her inside her house to ensure she arrived home safely.Uh-huh. Amused, I watched them disappear inside the house across the street, hoping they figured out their shit because they were the real deal. I saw the love they had for one another every single day.
My focus turned to Country, noticing the soft smile on his face. He never hid his emotions from me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he loved me. Impossible, right?
“Let’s go. I’m taking the purple dragon.”
He groaned. “You have a purple motorcycle?”
“Of course. It even glitters.” No lie. It fucking glittered in the sun, and it wasbreathtaking.
I pulled out two helmets inside the garage and handed one over to Country. “You know how to ride?”
“I got the basic idea.”
“Watch the turns. Lean with me.”
“I can figure it out, babe. Let’s get out of here. I got plans on that bike seat,” he rumbled with a sexy, deep timbre.
I rode for the first time at age three and never stopped. Motorcycles were an addiction, and it wasn’t just the RBMC members in my family who loved them.
Country held onto my waist, leaning forward to grip the handlebars with me on part of the ride. Being with him and sharing one of my favorite things in the world settled something empty inside me. I felt whole and happy. It may not last long, but I would enjoy it.
After about an hour on the road, we stopped at Willow Creek, parking my bike before walking toward the water and watching the stars reflect off the glassy surface. Desert sand stretched for miles ahead of us, and small bushes, tumbleweeds, and large rocks populated the shore.
“You come here often?”
“Sometimes, especially when I want space to think without all the testosterone.”
Country smiled. “Yeah, I c-can see that. It’s pretty.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I come here when I want to remember my mother, too,” I confessed.
He nodded, picking up a flat, smooth rock, good for skipping. I watched as he bent his wrist backward, flicking it as the rock spun, bouncing off the water’s surface several times.
“Nice.”
“Thanks.”
He skipped a few more rocks, never rushing me to finish my thoughts or the conversation. I never met a guy like him who seemed to have endless patience. It made me think of my parents and the love they shared before my mother died. How the people in our family seemed cursed to find love and never hold onto it.
“What are you thinking about so hard, Wildfire?”
“Something my father said once. That loving people is a tragedy in our family. We can’t seem to make it stick.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
I laughed without humor. “You don’t know shit.” I tossed a rock he handed me across the lake, watching as it skipped four times. Not bad.
“Then tell me.”
“Micah’s mom left when he was fourteen. My aunt just walked out one day and never looked back.”
“Damn.”
“And my mom? She died when I was five. Not cancer or illness. Drugs. An overdose. We lied and said it was an accident.” My bitter voice seemed to echo across the dark water. “The truth is she couldn’t handle the life my dad lived. He was in too tight with his brother and the Royal Bastards. Got too risky. She got involved with the product they used to move and died.”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
“My dad refused to patch into the club and demanded Uncle Hale got the club clean. Best decision they ever made, but it came way too late.”
