“Right, let’s double-check the shot list. I thought of a couple of other shots we might want, and we need to make sure we leave a little space in case Dave thinks of anything too.” Beth grabbed a piece of toast off his plate and stuffed it unceremoniously into her mouth. “I need to get myself together. I’ll shower and get ready. You go over the list.”

Rusty had already read the shot list until it swam in his eyes. He had no idea if it was good or not. He’d leave that to the experts. The important part was that Rocco was cautiously optimistic that the Reapers would leave it alone. He’d managed to pretend it hadn’t worried him. But ever since the producer and Beth had insisted that he appear in the show as well, he’d been a bit nervous about how that would play out. Well it was okay now. Onward.

Her ass practically poured into a pair of deliciously tight jeans, Beth popped up beside him where he was scanning the shot list. “This is the look we decided on, right? Biker but not too biker?”

He gave her an up and down, taking in the black jeans and tight navy T-shirt he’d had the shop logo printed onto. Every curve was accentuated and the dark color made her pale skin even more translucent. Her eyes were rimmed with dusky blue, making the green brighter and her hair was down, ready to pull a helmet on and off. She looked like the dream pinup of every guy he knew. “Looks fine.”

“Gee, way to pump a girl up.”

“Sorry?”

“Fine translates into ordinary and not all sexy in girl-speak.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever. Do I need to change?”

“No. You look fine. I mean, great. You look great.” Trying not to look at her too hard and holding onto the shot list to make sure his hands didn’t ignore his brain and grab onto a piece of her fine-looking ass without his say-so, he gritted his teeth. “Dave just called. He’s fifteen minutes out.”

“Okay.” Switching from checking in to taking charge, Beth put out a hand for the shot list and grabbed a pen from the bench in front of him. Marking up their priorities, she ticked through the list then dragged his laptop in front of her. “I’ve changed these two around so we can get all the stuff with Tiny done at once. It’ll make him feel more comfortable rather than having to come back to him later in the day. Lucy will be fine however we shoot her; she’s amazing. The rest is about you and me and the bike makes three. Okay?”

He tried to keep up with her whirlwind of typing and talking and as she pointed at the screen and at her color-coded sheet all he could do was nod. It all seemed great to him, better than great. To have someone pour as much passion into his project as he was, but with more technical film know-how and an impeccable eye for detail was a double win for him and he knew it. Those papers she did at film school had taught her more than she realized.

“So, let’s go.” She hit print and he suddenly clicked at something that was missing. “What about the shots of you on the bike?”

“I don’t think we need that in the pilot,” she said.

“Oh, yes, we do. It’s a great angle.”

“It’s hardly boy-meets-girl,” she said dryly.

“I don’t know, it’s pretty close. Girl meets bike, bike takes girl for a ride, girl falls in love with bike and rides off into a sexy hot sunset.”

“I’m not sure that’s really how it goes.”

He shrugged. “It’s staying. Type it back in.”

She sighed but added the shots back in and then hit print again.

But when Dave arrived Beth looked like the wheels had suddenly fallen off her carefully arranged plan. She dragged Rusty aside. “He’s the cameraman?”

Rusty turned to look where she was pointing. Dave had rolled up in his black 1970 Chevrolet and was unloading his equipment. Trying to look at him through Beth’s eyes he saw the greasy shoulder-length hair, the leather jacket with the Raising Hellfire logo, the sunken eye sockets after a long night drinking, and the lit cigarette hanging out his mouth. To be fair, Dave probably did look like he’d nailed too much meth. But still, guy was solid. “Hey, Dave,” he yelled across the workshop. “Need to put the cigarette out so you don’t blow us all up. There’s gas everywhere.”

He turned back to Beth and waited, but she didn’t budge, her face locked in a frown. “What?”

“I mean, I’m sure he’s a nice guy,” she whispered sternly. “But he’s not exactly neat and tidy.”

Rusty laughed. “Hey, Dave. Beth here is freaking out that you’re not a real cameraman.”

Beth shot daggers at him as Dave sauntered over, the faded and ripped black jeans he wore doing nothing to help hide how skinny he was.

“That right?” He looked her up and down and gave her a flick of the eyebrow that could have meant hello, or just as easily, fuck off.

“That’s not what I said at all,” she said. “It’s just that this is a big deal for Rusty, as I’m sure you know, and he needs to get it right.”

Dave snorted through his nose. “Check her out. Where’d you get her, with a voucher from a box of Cheerios? You’re bright and perky and all, but you got any substance to you?”

Rusty laughed again, but stopped himself when he saw the look on Beth’s face. “She’s in the pilot. Play nice.” He turned to Beth. “Dave’s been shooting film for longer than you and I have been eating eggs for breakfast. He might look like shit, but he’s good. Or at least the Coen brothers think so.”

“You’ve shot for the Coen brothers?” Beth’s mouth formed a wonderfully perfect O and Rusty couldn’t help but think about what he could do with it. But then she shut it, fast. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now. I’ve been in town a while but haven’t had a break yet. It feels like a lot is riding on this, for everyone.” She gave Rusty a nervous glance.

Dave nodded, apparently satisfied. “Not that what I look like should make a shit of difference, but okay then. What are we shooting?”

As if he’d given her permission to jump into action, Beth pulled out the shot list and started going through it with Dave.

He put up a hand when she was in mid-spiel and turned to Rusty. “I thought this was your show?”

Rusty shrugged. “She knows more about this than I do, hear her out.”

Once Dave had gone over the shot list, gruffly giving it his seal of approval, the world of Rusty’s workshop became a flurry of noise and activity. Lights popped up all over the shop and Rusty and his team were shunted on and off camera according to the master plan.

“This is great, bro,” Dave said when they broke for lunch. “Really solid idea. And it’s looking sweet on camera. I take back the whole Cheerios thing I said about your girl there. Make sure you keep her, she’s a firecracker.”

Rusty looked over to where Beth was chatting with Tiny about what would happen after lunch. “She’s dating my brother.” Hearing the words out in the world didn’t make them sit any easier in his head.

“Oh. Right. Well, lucky guy. She’s gonna do well if she keeps her shit together. Could make a great director.”

Rusty looked over at her again. Perhaps because he wasn’t in the film world he didn’t think of what they were doing in terms of roles, but she had, in fact, directed the day so far. Worked through the whole concept, written the shot list, worked with his team to get them ready. “Huh. True.”

The afternoon was as productive as the morning until it came time for Beth to get onto the bike they’d just featured. “You sure the owner wants me to get on his bike?”

Rusty grinned and pulled out his cell phone and rang the client. “I’ve got a sexy young woman here who’s worried you wouldn’t want her sitting on your bike. Wait, I’ll send you a pic.” The laugh came out of him before he had a chance to censor it. “No, I don’t think I’ll tell her that exactly, but thanks.”

Beth snapped her head up when he called her sexy but he pretended he didn’t notice. The words had just come out of him unbidden.

“What did he say?” When he hung up, Beth was practically bouncing next to him from nerves.

“You don’t want to know exactly what he said, but he definitely wants you to get on his bike.”

“And ride?” Tiny added from behind him with a smirk.

“Something like that.”

Beth’s blush wasn’t a bright pink flush, but he saw the change of her skin color in her neck and gentled his tone. “It’s not different from last night.”

“That was spur of the moment. This time I’ve had time to think about it again.”

He laughed. “Well, stop thinking and start feeling. Remember the sensation of flying? Of being free?”

“Of the smell of trees?” She looked up at him and it took everything he had to not pull her face up to his and kiss it. “It’s all there. Just waiting. Are you ready?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath then straightened and grabbed the helmet off him. The moment crumbled to dust. “Right then. Best get on with it.”

He climbed on the bike and she tucked herself onto the back, curling her hands around his waist tightly. He revved the bike and slowly eased it out of the shop and onto the road.

“And cut!” Rusty saw the words on Dave’s face rather than heard them and cut the engine before pulling off his helmet.

“What? Why?” Rusty asked.

“We got it. Now we need to get in a car so we can shoot you on the road.”

“Wait, you got all that? Like all of it?” Beth had her helmet off now but was still tucked in close behind him.

“Yep.” Dave beamed. “Your mini-meltdown about getting on a bike is gold. I would have loved to hear what that client said but never mind, the audience can guess. Helmets on. Let’s get on the road before we lose the light. If we get you riding as the sun starts to set it could be really great.”

From the backseat of his car, Dave waved them on. Easing out of the lot, Rusty drove off down the road, Beth still tucked in behind him. Her arms were a tight band around his waist, but he knew she wasn’t really scared now. Not after last night. Still, he didn’t want her to freak out unnecessarily so didn’t push the torque too hard. Instead he let the bike have her head at the end, roaring up the road with a twist of the accelerator and hoping they got it on camera. When they got back to the workshop Dave was still grinning and Beth’s grip had lessened.

“Turned you into a leather-head yet?” Rusty said softly to her, and she smiled up at him, her hip resting against the bike.

“It was mostly horrifying. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

“Yeah, you will. Just have to relax into the corners a bit more.”

She laughed. “Ever the optimist. Sorry about hanging onto you so tight. I know I’m supposed to lean into the corners, it just seems to go against gravity. I’m a terrible passenger, I know.”

“Hardly,” he said.

“It’s okay. I trust you.” Her hair was mussed by the helmet and he tucked a strand of it behind her ear before the noise of everyone around them rolled back in. Dave came over to talk and Rusty took a step back. The warmth of Beth’s smile was still curling its fingers somewhere deep and warm in his chest but watching her with Dave he tried to shake it off. She was warm with everyone. When she said she had a plan she wasn’t kidding. The warmth she made him feel was just the way she was, nothing more, nothing less. She wanted his brother.

The day wrapped and all the lights and people diminished, Rusty watched Beth flop down on the sofa upstairs. “That was a good day.”

“All that for an hour of footage?”

“More like forty-two minutes. To account for ad breaks.”

Rusty whistled through his teeth but Beth just shrugged. “Dave’s happy. I heard him on the phone to your producer. I think you’re going to end up with a pilot that sells your idea without him having to do much.”

“Thanks to you.”

Her smile was slow and warmed him from the inside out. “It was your idea. I just pushed it around a bit.”

“Dave thinks you make a good director.”

She sat up at that. “Does he? Hey, that’s cool.” But just then her phone pinged again and she scanned the message. “What? Now?” She looked at her watch. “I guess it’s early if you’re on Hollywood time.”

“News?” he asked, even though he didn’t want to know.

“You know how Grim offered to have a word to his director about me? He wants to do it tonight with me right there on his arm. At a party.” She checked her watch again. “Like in an hour. OMG, I can’t go out in an hour. I look a mess and I’m beat.”

“So don’t go.”

She gave him such an are-you-serious look that he almost smiled. “I can’t not go.” Standing, she paced the room. “What do I wear? What do I say when I meet him? Like do I play it sweet or sexy? OMG. I’ll ask Grim.” She fired off a text and kept pacing while waiting for a reply.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a natural in front of the camera. Bet Dave didn’t tell you that, did he?”

Rusty was taken aback. “No.”

“Well, it’s true. We had a quick look at some of your shots and you look great. Natural charm. Charisma. Maybe you should give all this up and do film like Grim. You two could be the biker equivalent to the Hemsworths or something.”

Rusty darkened. Grim would never allow that to happen. And anyway, he could never give up working on the bikes. It kept him close to his dad and his dad had always been the one who leveled him out.

Her phone pinged again and he watched her face move from happy to sad to nervous in under a second.

“So?”

“I don’t really know.” She turned her phone to him.

JUST COME HOWEVER YOU COME AS LONG AS IT’S A BIT UNDONE.

Rusty almost laughed. Almost. “He’s saying to dress sexy, but not too sexy.”

“Right. Oh, right. Man, I don’t know. Hang on.” She rushed out of the room only to appear holding two dresses and a pantsuit. “Which?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You’re a guy.”

“They all look the same hanging there like that.”

“Right. Don’t go anywhere.”

She came back wearing dress option one. A pink fifties number that was tight around the bust. Perfectly tight. He couldn’t help himself, no way did he want her wearing that. “If you want everyone looking at your tits all night, wear that one.”

“Shit. Okay, next one.”

The other dress was the exact opposite. The top covered her up to her neck and it was the bottom half that dragged his eyes and wouldn’t let them go. “If tight is good then this works.”

“Double shit. If you think it’s tight then it’s out-of-control tight.” She twisted, trying to look at her butt. “Those jeans you liked were practically painted on and you didn’t even raise an eyebrow at them.” Giving up at trying to look behind her she waved a hand at him. “That’s out too. I want to meet people. Talk to them, not have to pick their eyeballs off the floor when they fall out from staring too much.”

He snorted. She sure had a way with words.

The pantsuit was cute. Black and sleek and crazy low-cut at the front and back. She held it together with one hand. He nodded. “Pretty good.”

“Okay. I’ll take that as great, given your natural proclivity for understatement. This is the one, as long as I tape it down to stop my girls coming out.” She gave a little twirl and a curtsy and popped her leg up for full effect.

“Not sure you’re the sweet as pie type.”

She laughed. “Touché.” Checking her phone she nodded as if needing to confer with herself. “Right. I better get going. I’m meeting Grim in twenty minutes. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” he said automatically. He sat, staring at the door for a good minute after she’d gone. Now what? Now he got back to what he’d usually be doing. Eat, work on a bike, have a beer, fall into bed. But the apartment seemed quiet, too quiet. Heading downstairs to the workshop, Rusty started sketching out a new design for the chassis of a bike he was repainting. His usual fallback were the flames that Beth had admired. The swirling curve of them worked so well with the smooth lines of a bike tank. But today he found his hand working in another direction. Letting his pencil sweep across the paper, he emptied his mind of everything but the lines in front of him. For a sweet moment, Beth disappeared, the dynamics in his shop faded, the threat of Grim wanting to have more say about what happened in the garage dropped away and all that was left was the image emerging under his hand.

A crash behind him startled him out of his reverie. “That you, Tiny?”

Silence.

Rusty put down his pencil and went to the door. A bike revved up and clicked its headlights on, momentarily blinding Rusty. “Oy. Who’s out there? Show yourself.”

Someone laughed and a bottle landed at Rusty’s feet, smashing instantly. Gasoline—Rusty smelled the fumes straightaway.

“No one likes a turncoat.” A man’s voice, unencumbered by a helmet.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m no turncoat. I did my time back home and I left. End of story.”

“Hell’s boys been turning up where they shouldn’t be. Where they wouldn’t know to be unless someone told them. Heard you might know more than you been letting on and spreading it around in all the wrong places.”

“I haven’t told anyone anything.”

“Best keep it that way. Watch your step.”

Then Rusty saw it, the ignition of an old-fashioned lighter, the arc as the rider threw it up into the air, and then—“Fuck!” Rusty threw himself out of the way as the lighter landed on the ground where his feet had been and ignited the gasoline with a WOOMPH.

The biker roared off into the night and Rusty rushed to get a fire extinguisher. When the fire was just a mess of dripping white foam he pulled out his cell to call his brother. “Fuck.” Grim was at the party with Beth and he didn’t want to spoil the night for her. Instead, Rusty tapped Rocco’s name.