Beautifully Broken (Reckless Bastards MC 1)

His deep laugh sounded in the near empty restaurant and it was rich and multi-layered. It was a bit rusty, paying truth to his words last week that he hadn’t laughed in a while. “When I first got out of the service I…struggled. I couldn’t sleep most nights so I would go out and paint, wherever I was. The desert, the forest, lakes and rivers, oceans and everything in between.”

“So you don’t have much practice painting anything else?” He nodded and I felt an answering grin tug on my lips. “I know how that is. I first started painting and sketching. Self-portraits. You wouldn’t believe how quickly I got over them.”

His grin deepened and I swallowed. Hard. Max was too much man, far too big and muscular, and he had that rugged handsome thing going on that definitely spelled danger to a woman like me. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like me. They’d pretended in college to get my help with papers and homework, only to drop the pretense immediately after. And after college when I worked at a large accounting firm, a few guys had tried to get me to do their reports with the vague promise of a date in the future. I learned my lesson quickly and stayed far away from men. All men. “I can only imagine.”

“What branch of the military did you serve?”

Again, his gray eyes took on that cold, haunted look. “Navy. I was a SEAL.” He braced himself and I knew what he was waiting for because I’d seen the way women got all giddy with stars in their eyes at Navy SEALs, and I can only imagine how crazy they went over a guy like Max.

“Thank you for your service. Before…everything, did you feel fulfilled by it?”

He blinked and thought about it as I sliced the octopus, offering him a few pieces along with the garlic and herb butter. “I never thought about it like that, but yeah, I was. Shit, maybe that’s why it’s all been so hard.” He stabbed the slice of meat with more force than necessary and slid it off the fork into his mouth. “Fuck me, that’s a tender piece of meat. And this is octopus?”

“It is,” I told him and sliced a few pieces for myself and pushing the plate to the middle of the table. “Why did you retire?” He frowned and I held up a hand. “I meant, isn’t it common for hardcore guys like you to teach and pass on the knowledge?”

Max nodded and my gaze was riveted to his steely gray eyes. They should’ve been intimidating with that thousand yard stare, but they were compelling. Too damn compelling. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a right fit for me.”

My heart went out to Max because of all the women he could have possibly met, I knew exactly what he was going through. “It takes time.” We fell silent and finished the starters before we both decided to order a beer. “Where are you from, Max?”

“Brooklyn, originally but I haven’t lived there since I was eighteen.” He chuckled good naturedly. “A lifetime ago. What about you?”

I shrugged. “Detroit, I think.” It had been a long time since someone showed an interest in my life and I was a bit rusty. “I went into the foster care system in Michigan when I was six so it’s a bit fuzzy before that, but I bounced around plenty of Detroit foster homes, so let’s go with that. Siblings?”

He grinned and holy shit, his face was transformed from a ruggedly handsome warrior to a boyishly charming man far too good looking for my peace of mind. “I have a brother and we were close. It was just me and him and our mom, at least until I went to the Navy. He went Army as soon as he was old enough, but Tate didn’t make a career of it.”

I swallowed. “Did he die?” I couldn’t take it if a man like him, who had sacrificed for our country, had experienced that kind of loss. It didn’t seem fair or right, two things I knew life didn’t guarantee.

“No.”

“Oh. Good.” He didn’t want to talk about it so I dropped it. Teddy often said I had a bad habit of interrogating people.

“Sorry, it’s just. My brother is going through some shit right now and I want to help but he’s shutting me out.” He blew out a long breath and fell against the seat.

“You can’t take it personally, Max.”

“He’s my damn brother! My only family.”

“He’s lucky to have you, but sometimes shit is so hard, so painful that the only thing you can do is curl into yourself and handle it the best way you know how.” The brothers had no idea how lucky they were to have each other, but telling Max that wouldn’t help. “So what do you do now?”

“Depends on what the club needs. I got a business degree while I was in the military so mostly I take care of the business end of club business.”

He’d said that world, club, a few times since we sat down and I understood. “Motorcycle club?”

Tension curled through the hard muscles of his shoulders and arms. Everything about him was so tense suddenly, like he was worried I’d judge him. “Yep.”

He didn’t need to worry because I didn’t judge. Ever. “Like an outlaw biker club with one percenters? Or are you a bunch of nine to fivers who ride as weekend warriors?” I’d recently binge watched Sons of Anarchy and I had thirst for all things biker related.

He laughed. “We’re not outlaws but we’re not nine to fivers. Our businesses are legal but we’re like a brotherhood. They helped keep me and the public safe when I first landed here looking for Tate.”

“That’s nice of them. Do you all have to ride Harley’s? Oh, are all of you white or former military?”

He grinned. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I don’t get out a lot and I rarely meet anyone with so much life experience. I’m curious.” I couldn’t stop staring at him any more than I could resist the urge to turn so only the left side of my face was visible. His facial features were strong, a sharp, jagged jawline and a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times only made him look more well lived. Miles of skin showed that he’d lived a full life that included scars, tattoos, too much sun, all signs he hadn’t wasted the life he was given. Max was way out of my league, but I liked talking to him. “You can tell me it’s none of my business, I won’t be offended.”

“We don’t have stupid ass rules about race. Most of us have served in the military at some point and that brotherhood means a hell of a lot more than the color of our skin.”

“Do you have any members who can’t ride motorcycles?”