Page 6

Chapter six

Mia

“G randma, where are you?” I call as I walk through the back door of her house.

There’s a truck in the driveway that I don’t recognize, which could mean a myriad of things. Could be a landscaper—my grandmother wants a few things done now that the weather is warming up. Or she could be deciding to redo one of her rooms as an indoor sauna or something. The choices are honestly endless when it comes to her.

What I did not expect to find was my grandmother sitting in her formal living room while serving Arthur Lewis a cup of tea from the set she uses for special company.

I stop in the doorway, and my grandmother catches my eye. “Hello, Mia. Would you like to join us, dear?” She tops off Arthur’s cup and offers him a small plate with a napkin and what looks to be a slice of one of the tarts I made for Knox’s party.

That sneaky woman.

Arthur turns and gives me a charming smile. “Good to see you again, Mia. Please, sit with us.”

Offering Arthur a smile, I walk into the room since I don’t want to be rude and have a seat on the other side of the couch my grandmother is occupying.

“Would you like a slice of raspberry lemon tart?”

I shoot my grandmother a rueful grin and chuckle softly. “No thanks. I’m meeting Charlie and Lucy in a bit. Just wanted to check on you before I left to see if you needed anything while I was out.”

And to see if there were going to be construction workers traipsing around the property in the coming weeks.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She sends a smile to Arthur. “We were discussing the finer points of the importance of a defensive line over an offensive line for draft picks that we see for next season.”

Anything having to do with the rules of football is completely lost on me. For all the time I spent at football games for my brother, I never actually learned anything about the sport. My parents didn’t care that I hated watching football—well, except for one player—and would make me sit with them to watch the game. Appearances mattered, after all. Their daughter’s free time? Not so much. But I’m incredibly happy that my grandmother has someone to talk sports with because it certainly isn’t me.

“Elaine, I forgot what a fan you were. Patrick and Ozzy share a love for football, but they put too much importance on offense over defense, and honestly, they aren’t nearly as charming or well-versed in the sport as you.” Arthur takes a small bite of the tart on his plate. “Delicious. Did you make this?” he asks my grandmother.

“Oh, no. Mia is the baker in the family.”

“Yes. And I could have sworn this is one of the desserts I brought to Knox’s party,” I say.

“There were so many dishes out. Who’s to say why this one didn’t get eaten?” She shrugs innocently, but her smile gives her away.

My grandmother is many things, but sly is not one of them. I have no doubt this woman somehow hid the tart so she could bring it home.

“Well, thank goodness you didn’t let it go to waste,” I say before turning my smile to Arthur. “Do you have any favorites, Arthur? Maybe I can have something ready for you the next time you pay my grandmother a visit.”

It’s been a long while since my grandmother had a man over. I honestly don’t remember the last time she entertained anyone who wasn’t part of her knitting club or our local Rotary club. Plus, I like the way Arthur smiles at her—and vice versa. There’s something to be said for that Lewis charm.

“My mum used to make the most delicious sticky toffee pudding. It’s been years since I’ve had it. Not since my wife passed. She was the baker in our family.”

“I do remember Janine’s pies. I swear they were the envy at every bake sale. Those old biddies would get so mad when everyone would buy a raffle ticket for her pie,” my grandmother says with a warm smile.

“Do you remember when Brenda Linders had a near meltdown insisting it was rigged in Janine’s favor?” Arthur asks, his body shaking with laughter.

“I do. I also remember Brenda’s apple crumble tasting like wet cardboard.” She rolls her eyes as she sips her tea.

“Damn, Grandma. Vicious.”

“I couldn’t help that all my guys were particular about their pie,” Arthur says, shooting my grandmother a wink. They share a laugh, which tells me they knew damn well the Black Roses did, in fact, rig the raffle.

I check my phone and see a text from Charlie telling me that she, Lucy, and Maizie are waiting for me at the coffee shop.

Standing from my seat on the couch, I face my grandmother. “Alright, you two have fun.” I turn to Arthur, who stands from his seat and holds out his hand.

When I slide mine over his, he covers it with his other hand. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Mia. I hope to see you around the clubhouse more, too.”

“Now that it’s warming up, Lucy wants Charlie and I at target practice, so I’m sure you will.”

Arthur gives me a smile with an amused glint in his eyes, although I’m not sure why my answer has him entertained. Maybe it’s the thought of Lucy schooling all the guys in the club a time or two at their outdoor range. From what Charlie has said, when she showed Jude up the first time she shot a gun, the look of shock on his face was pure gold and the talk of the clubhouse for weeks afterward. My friend is a certified badass, so I suppose if anyone can teach me to shoot straight, it’s her.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that Arthur Lewis is at your grandmother’s house having tea right now?” Lucy asks as the four of us are sitting at our favorite little coffee shop—Cool Beans—before we head to the farmers’ market.

“They've known each other forever. Since way before I was born. I don’t know”—I shrug as I sip my latte—“I think it’s nice that she has a gentleman caller.”

Lucy throws her head back with a laugh. “Have you gotten into your grandma’s stash of historical romance? Gentleman caller. ”

“I like a good romance every now and again.” Or every night when I read myself to sleep.

“Well, I, for one, love that Arthur is spending time with Elaine,” Maizie chimes in. “She has always been so kind to me and Colby. She used to be friends with my grandmother, too. When my grandma passed, she helped organize everything for me, considering I didn’t have a clue about funeral arrangements, and my grandma and mom weren’t exactly on speaking terms.”

Life hasn’t been fair to Maizie, and her parents have only made it harder. Though her mom seems to be coming around, she’s not always in the best frame of mind after her mom visits her and her son.

“Jesus, does everyone know everyone in this town? I swear, you could throw a rock and hit someone’s nanna who knows your nanna and remembers every little detail about your life,” Lucy says.

Maizie and I look at each other, then turn to Lucy.

“Yup,” I say.

“Pretty much,” Maizie says at the same time. “Welcome to life in a small town.”

“I like this small town a hell of a lot better than the one I grew up in. At least everyone here supports each other for the most part. Trust me, it could be worse,” Charlie says.

Charlie has shared that where she came from, though small as it was, no one wanted to get involved with anyone’s business. Even if they knew what went on behind closed doors was often violent—at least in Charlie’s case.

“It wasn’t always like that, either,” I say. “It took a long while before the good people of Shine realized the club wasn’t running around trying to corrupt its innocent boys and girls. They caught a lot of flak, especially after the shooting at the clubhouse.”

Years ago, when Trick was president, the Italian Mafia had a problem with the Black Roses and shot up the clubhouse right before Thanksgiving when everyone, kids included, was there celebrating. I wasn’t around, but I remember hearing about it and all the rumors about Freya leaving school after she was caught in the cross fire.

Though I don’t think anyone necessarily forgot about it, they realize there hasn’t been an incident since. For as seedy, or I don’t know…unlawful as they think the club is, they can also recognize that Shine has remained largely untouched by a lot of the other problems that small working-class towns have. There aren’t drugs on the streets, people aren’t afraid to be out after dark, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who don’t even think to lock their doors at night. Shine is a safe haven, and I believe that’s largely thanks to the Black Roses making sure no one messes around in their town.

“I know one girl in particular who could use some corrupting,” Lucy says, eyeing me over the rim of her cappuccino.

She laughs when I roll my eyes and wave my hand in front of me, indicating for her to just come out with it. “And there it is. Wow, it took you a whole”—I check the time on my phone—“fifteen minutes to make a reference to me and Knox.”

“Woah, sister. I didn’t say anything about Knox. That was all you,” she says.

Charlie groans next to me. “Lucy, you are many things…and completely obvious is one of them.”

Maizie and I bark out a laugh as Charlie holds Lucy’s glacial stare. It takes about three seconds for the two best friends to break into a fit of laughter before Charlie turns to me.

“In all fairness, though, I’m pretty sure I didn't imagine the steam rising from you and Knox the other night,” Charlie says while dramatically fanning herself.

“Ohhh, what did I miss?” Maizie asks.

“Nothing,” I say, turning toward her, then back to Charlie and Lucy. “There’s nothing going on between us. Jesus, until the other night, I wasn’t even sure he liked me. He’s always so stiff and gruff around me.” I sit straight in my chair and do a piss-poor impersonation of the biker. I furrow my eyebrows and pull the corners of my mouth down in a deep frown, much like the expression Knox usually wears around me.

“Add in a growl. It would make it more realistic,” Charlie says.

“I don't think he usually growls, at least not around me. But holy shit, when he was helping you with that shot, I swear to God, even I was getting a little hot under the collar,” Lucy says.

Maizie’s eyes dart between Lucy and Charlie before landing on me. “You and Knox, huh? Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

“I already told you. Nothing is going on. He gave me a ride home the other night and then we played pool at the clubhouse.”

“Wait a minute, sister,” Lucy says, leaning over the table between us. “You didn’t say anything about a ride home. When was this? Was he on his bike? Why didn’t you call me? Was riding with him everything you ever dreamed of?” She fires off her questions in rapid succession, the last being the most ridiculous.

“I got a flat tire on the way home the other night when we went for drinks. I was about to change it when I heard him pull up behind me. Thank God, too, because my spare was flat, and I wasn’t going to get a tow that late.” I remember trying to think of every plausible excuse I could think of to not hitch a ride with Knox. Not that I was opposed to getting on his bike. The exact opposite, actually. I just wasn’t sure if it would be possible for me to suppress all the teenage fantasies of him whisking me away on his motorcycle enough to not embarrass myself.

“So you rode on the back of his bike? Did you invite him in and give him a proper thank-you?” Lucy asks with her lip tipped up in a wicked smile.

“What would that be? A roll in the hay, or would a blow job have sufficed?” I ask with an arched brow. “I said thank you and walked inside. I have a little more self-respect than to fall all over him because he’s a decent man who wasn’t going to leave me stranded.”

“Girl, it’s not about self-respect. But I’m glad you have it. I wish more women did. And I wish more women didn’t tie their self-respect to some antiquated idea of being sexually repressed,” Lucy says with her brow arched as she gives me a scolding look.

“Jesus, I am not sexually repressed. And I don’t tie the two together. Everyone is free to be who they are, and they’ll get zero judgment from me. But making sure a woman isn’t left stranded on the side of the road is bare minimum in my book and doesn’t warrant an invite into my bed.” A deep breath rushes out of me. “It’s just…it’s Knox.” I close my eyes and massage my temples with my fingertips, trying to stave off the tension headache building there. “I’m well aware of the fact that I have him on some sort of pedestal as the ultimate bad boy crush.” I tilt my head down and cover my face with my hands. “God, that sounds so stupid.”

When I look back up, the girls all have varying degrees of pitying smiles on their faces. I don’t know which is worse, what I just said about Knox or the looks they're giving me now.

“Listen, I know I’m not his usual type. No reason to look at me like that.”

“Oh no, honey,” Lucy states in an unusually sympathetic tone. “We know you’ve had a crush on the guy forever. It’s the fact that, for some reason, you don’t think you’re good enough for him or something. None of us like seeing you feel so uncomfortable around him. That’s the look.”

“I’m just not…Heather.”

“Who?” Maizie asks.

“You’d already left when the girls from Midnight Rose came to the party for Knox’s birthday,” Charlie says. “Heather is one of the dancers. She seemed to know Knox on a more intimate level than the other girls, and she stopped by the pool table when they were playing to say hello.”

“And she’s a gorgeous, leggy redhead,” I add.

Charlie tilts her head in my direction. “And that.”

“Mia, look at me,” Lucy says, and I turn my head toward her. “I’m not Heather, either. Neither is Charlie, and neither is Maizie. We’re us, and you’re you. If Knox wanted a Heather, he could have easily had her that night, but he didn’t touch any of the girls. In fact, after you left, he got good and drunk, then went to bed.”

“It’s fine, really,” I say, trying to give the girls a reassuring smile. “I’m sure everyone has that one crush they always felt was totally out of their league.” I look around the table, and the girls all have blank expressions on their faces.

“I grew up in a crazy cult that wanted to marry me off at sixteen,” Lucy says.

“My one and only crush I had when I was younger turned out to be an awful human being who tried to sell me and is now…” Charlie slashes her finger across her throat.

“I’m a single mom who doesn’t have the time, energy, or interest in anything having to do with anyone who has a penis,” Maizie offers.

“You guys could at least pretend to relate to me,” I grouse and raise my eyes to the ceiling. “Man, I need new friends.”

“No, you have perfect friends who love you. However, what we won’t do is let you talk bad about yourself. Mia, you're gorgeous, loving, and have one of the kindest souls I’ve ever known. Remember, Knox is just a man. He isn’t some guy who has a magic dick that will completely transform your entire life,” Maizie says.

“Well, you don’t actually know that for a fact, do you, Maiz?” Lucy asks with a grin. “It could have superpowers.”

Maizie scoffs. “Please. The last guy who tried to convince me of that wasn’t close to having anything magical about his dick or his personality once the tequila wore off,” she mumbles.

“Okay, as fun as it is talking about magical dicks and my embarrassing high school crush, we should probably hit the market. I still need to finish up a few details on my proposal and go over it one more time.”

“How many times have you already proofed it?” Lucy asks.

I shoot Lucy a look that says I’d rather not say. “Once more can’t hurt.”

The farmers’ market is crowded. It’s the first of the season, and the residents of Shine are more than happy to be emerging from their homes now that the weather has thawed a bit, although there’s still a slight chill in the air.

“Let’s stop by Cece’s table,” Lucy says.

When the Black Roses rescued Lucy, they took the women from the compound and many of them went to the women’s shelter in town. Cece went to live with Lucy and Jude and has made so many strides since leaving the hell both sisters were raised in. But I know Lucy worries about her. Though she came to Shine quiet as a church mouse, she’s been finding her voice, according to Lucy. And apparently, that voice has gotten louder and angrier as time has gone on. If there’s one person to soften Lucy’s rough edges, it’s her sister, but I know she worries that she isn’t handling things correctly. There was so much that happened to the girl in the years Lucy spent on the run, and most of it we still don’t know because Cece won’t discuss it.

“How’s she been?” Charlie asks as we weave through the crowd.

Lucy lets out a breath and shrugs. “Okay, I guess. She doesn’t really talk to me about anything. I was so happy to have her home in the beginning, and we were focused on making sure she understood that she was safe around Jude and all the guys. These last few months though, there’s this other side of her that I didn’t see, or maybe didn’t want to see…I don’t know. But she’s angry. She won’t open up about it, and the only way I really have to judge what she’s feeling is by the music she blares when she’s baking. Sometimes, it’s somber, and sometimes it’s the loudest scream metal you could imagine. Jude stays away when that shit is blasting. He tried to turn it down once, and he told me she looked like she was ready to grab a knife from the butcher block and stab him with it.”

“Have you convinced her to talk to someone yet?” Charlie asks.

“Nope. She said it doesn’t matter. That they can’t magically take away what she went through, so what good will it do to relive it now?”

“Shit,” Charlie breathes out.

“Yup. The only thing I can do at this point is keep showing up for her and make sure she knows that no matter how hard she rebels, gets angry, or yells, she’s still loved and still safe.”

“She’s been great with Colby,” Maizie says. “He lights up every time she comes over to hang out with him.”

Cece has been babysitting for Maizie. Lucy’s mentioned that the only time she sees glimpses of the sweet and playful girl she remembers from their childhood has been when she’s around Colby.

“I’m glad she’s spending time with him,” Lucy says. “It gets her out of the house and makes her happy.”

Maizie shoots Lucy a smile as we approach the booth surrounded by shelves of bread, with Cece sitting behind a table draped in a light-blue tablecloth.

Lucy’s gaze travels over the half-empty shelves, and she shoots her sister a smile. “Hey, looks like you’ve been selling a lot.”

“It helps to stock up when you hardly sleep,” Cece replies, looking around at the loaves of bread and small homemade pastries.

“You should talk to Betsy at Cool Beans. I’m sure she’d love to carry some of your pastries,” I say in a bright voice usually reserved for the kids at school. It’s hard seeing her like this. When we first met, she was so quiet but seemed hopeful. Now, it’s as though a sullen teenager has taken her place. Not that anyone can blame her.

“Maybe,” is the only response she gives.

“Well, I, for one, am always up for more treats,” Charlie says as she grabs a napkin and picks up some sort of berry Danish before reaching into her purse to fish out cash, then hands a couple bills to Cece.

“It doesn’t seem right to charge you. You’re like family,” Cece says.

“Good thing I like supporting my family’s new business ventures,” Charlie says, and Cece reluctantly takes the cash from her hand.

Charlie bites into the Danish, and a satisfied moan escapes her throat. “So worth it,” she says around her mouthful.

I grab one for myself and hand Cece the money before taking a bite. “Oh my God, Cece, I think these are better than Betsy’s.” I feign a look of guilt as I glance at the people walking past, then back to Cece. “Don’t tell her I said that.” I give her a conspiratorial wink, and she tilts the corner of her mouth in an almost smile.

“Here’s the girl I was looking for,” a feminine voice calls from behind me. I turn and there stands a stunning redhead, her face free of makeup, with two other girls standing beside her, just as tall and just as exotically beautiful without any effort. “This is the amazing baker of those scones and pastries Knox dropped off a couple weeks ago. I remember him saying you planned to have a booth here.”

“Hey, Heather, how are you?” Lucy asks.

Heather leans in and gives Lucy an affectionate hug while my friend shoots me an apologetic look over the redhead’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you,” Heather says. “Knox told us this was your sister, so of course we had to come down here and load up. Not to mention, I haven’t been able to get those apple turnovers out of my head since I tried one,” she says, looking at Cece with a wide grin.

Of course she has to be gorgeous and nice.

“I’ve been working on some different recipes. I have peaches and cream and vanilla blackberry now, too,” Cece says.

“Girl, I’ll take everything you have. I work tonight, and there’s no doubt in my mind the other girls will be ecstatic if I walk in with these.” Heather smiles while Cece starts wrapping up the dozen or so different pastries she has left, then looks at me. “Hey, I met you the other night at the clubhouse at Knox’s birthday party.”

“Not officially,” I say.

“I’m Heather.” The woman holds out the hand that isn’t clutching the pastry, and I shake it.

“Mia.”

“Mia and Knox have known each other since they were in high school,” Lucy says.

“Seems everyone in this town knows either knows each other from high school or church or something,” Heather says.

Lucy laughs. “I was just saying that earlier.”

“Good thing I’m a transplant, I guess. No one remembers my awkward phase,” Heather says on an embarrassed laugh.

Yeah, I’m so sure she went through the same tragic phase of braces and frizzy hair as the rest of us mere mortals.

“Where are you from?” Charlie asks.

“Boston, actually, so not too far.”

“What on earth brought you to Shine?” Lucy asks.

“I met Sylvie, Midnight Roses’ manager, at a club there. She liked my work, and I wanted out of the city.” Heather shrugs. “I like a quieter life, and working for the club is honestly the best decision I’ve made. The stories I could tell you about some of the places I’ve danced at would make your hair stand on end.”

I have a feeling Heather doesn’t know the particulars about Charlie and Lucy’s former lives. It’s doubtful she could say anything about what she went through that would compare. God, stop being a judgy bitch, Mia.

“Well, I’m glad you're happy working there. Ozzy certainly wants all the girls to feel comfortable,” Charlie says.

“All the guys are great.” Heather points her smile at me, and I feel how brittle the one I return is. Jesus, I’m jealous of a woman over a man who, until last week, I hardly had any interaction with in my entire life. This is not me, and to be honest, I’m not enjoying this side of myself at all.

“It was nice meeting you,” I say, trying to sound like I mean it. There’s no reason for me to be an asshole to the girls standing in front of me. I’ve never been the one to behave or even think like this, and I’m not about to start now.

“You, too. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime.”

Great. I’m so looking forward to that—especially if Knox is around, and I feel two feet tall again, like I did the other night.

Okay, so obviously I have work to do. Baby steps.

“I need to get going,” I tell the girls. “Thank you for the pastry, Cece. Actually, let me get a couple loaves of bread, too.”

I plan on eating my feelings tonight, and what better way to do it than with Cece’s homemade rosemary sourdough?

After paying for the bread, I give the girls a hug goodbye and tell them that we’ll meet up later in the week for drinks or something. Charlie was talking about Linc going on a run with Knox and Cash later this week, so that would be the perfect opportunity to make sure Knox isn’t around. I feel like an idiot for my reaction at the clubhouse…and an even bigger idiot for feeling like I was run off by the leggy redhead—who is apparently extremely nice and supports the small business of one of the club’s family members.

Before leaving the market, I stop and grab some homemade fig and jalapeno jam to go with the bread. When I get to my car, there’s something on my windshield. A beautiful bouquet of white tulips.

Huh.

I throw the bread and jam in my back seat and grab the flowers. No note, but they are gorgeous, wrapped in butcher paper, and tied with string. I’m not sure they were meant for me because who the hell would be leaving me flowers? But I set them on my passenger seat and head home to put them in water. Hopefully the person they were meant for isn’t upset that they didn’t get them.

But hey, they sure brighten up my otherwise dreary day, so I’ll call that a win for me.