Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(27)
“What does this mean?” she asked him, daring to reach over and lightly draw the tip of her finger across it.
He glanced at it and the corner of his mouth kicked up. “‘If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.’”
And that raised the hair at the back of her neck. “Ah.”
“Zane and Damien have Latin phrase ink too. I think Zane’s is ‘Fortune favors the bold’ and Damien’s is ‘The die has been cast.’”
“Did you all get them together?”
“No. They just ripped off my idea.”
She had to laugh at that, but the mention of Zane brought around the next topic she wanted to address with him. “I really did have fun tonight. I wanted to thank you again.”
“No need. And I’m glad you had a good time.”
“So, your brother . . .”
“Oh God, what did he do?”
“Well, nothing that I know of. And Rowan said he was great, but . . . I thought I picked up on something there. I hope he understands she is by no means ready to get back out there no matter how she acted tonight.”
“I set him straight about it as best I could. I could tell he liked her, but he respects the situation. I think. He won’t be bothering her, and if he does, let me know.”
“I mean, she’s not a kid or anything, and it’s not that I wouldn’t want her getting into another relationship. It’s just so soon. I guess we’re all in mama-bear mode over her because of everything she’s been through. Both her parents died, her husband died, now she’s facing a pregnancy without him . . . I think I would lose it. I really do.”
“People can be stronger than you think.”
She thought back to some of the things he’d hinted at when they’d gone for coffee after Tommy’s funeral. “Yeah. We have to be.” Eyeing the touch-screen monitor set in the dash, she opted to find a lighter topic. “What kind of music do you like?”
“Classic rock, some outlaw country. You?”
“I like a little bit of everything. Some pop, some country, some rock. Zane’s band is a little heavy for my tastes though. Good, don’t get me wrong. Just heavy.”
“I feel the exact same way, really.” He reached for the volume knob and turned up Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog.” She had to laugh as the raucous chorus warning about messing with a son of a bitch filled the cab, especially since he grooved along with it. “I actually considered using this as my walk-out song,” he said.
“Now that would be funny.”
And somewhere, on that Texas highway to Galveston with old rock blaring on SiriusXM’s Ozzy’s Boneyard channel and maniacal traffic and lights whizzing by at breakneck speed, Savannah finally felt herself begin to relax, unwind, and enjoy herself. She even found herself seat dancing and not caring when he looked over and saw her. Because she heard that laugh she’d wondered about, and it was indeed great. The hour-long drive flew by, and the landscape changed, city lights and buildings fading into palm trees and resorts.
When at last he pulled to a stop outside a stilted beach house nestled among a line of similar structures, a great vast blackness stretched beyond it where she couldn’t tell where the Gulf of Mexico ended and the starlit sky began. Stepping out into that wind undid every bit of effort she’d put into her hair, but oh well. She was beyond caring.
“This is amazing,” she told him as they met in front of his truck and he led her up the steps to the front door.
“Thanks,” he said. “I haven’t had it very long.” From a wad of keys he produced from his pocket, he picked one and unlocked the door. “Hang on and let me hit some lights. I haven’t really redecorated or anything, so don’t hold it against me.”
She chuckled, but when soft light filled the living room space and she stepped in, there was nothing to hold against him. The walls were a soothing aqua, the living room suite white and immaculate with deeper teal accents. “What do you mean? It’s perfect. I’ll live here if, you know, you don’t like it.”
He laughed and moved to the kitchen beyond, depositing his keys in a blue glass bowl on the way. “Drink? I might have Coke. Or beer. Might even be a bottle of wine somewhere, if you want.”
“I would actually be fine with some water.”
Mike grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge while she explored a bit, taking in the beachy wall pictures, the shells and starfish, glancing in each of the two bedrooms. It wasn’t a big place, but it was exactly what she would have chosen for a little getaway from life. “You don’t rent it out?” she asked after joining him in the kitchen.
“No. I thought about it but decided not to. I have an apartment in the city but lately I’ve spent almost as much time here as I have at home. I think it’s therapeutic, seeing the gulf as often as I can.”
“I can see that.”
“Want to walk out there?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
Chapter Nine
Savannah wasn’t sure how long they walked the beach or how far they went. Conversation with him flowed so easily. Even their silences, while not completely comfortable yet, weren’t the torture they usually were when she was getting to know someone. Once his little house had faded in the distance, they turned and strolled back with the waves just reaching their feet. She found herself wishing they had farther to go, longer to stay, but all too soon they’d reached his house again.