nodded at Ryan, who looked a lot less confident than Michael would’ve liked. Ryan always kept his eye on the prize. He never faltered. At least he hadn’t before tonight.
Michael shut his eyes. Fuck, he wasn’t used to being the group’s backbone. His role was to support not to lead, and that was the way he liked it. He was just a guy who played guitar.
And lines up for free booze and plentiful pussy.
Yeah, well, not tonight. He wasn’t planning on getting loaded or finding a chick. He’d have to be on point to help his band through the show, and afterward, he’d be there to pick up the pieces if needed.
After all, he’d been the one who’d rejected Lila hiring a studio musician for the night to fill in for Ryan. As long of a shot as it was, Michael had held out hope that Mal would show. He might not want to, might curse his little brother mightily after, but Mal wouldn’t let Michael down. Until it was actually happening, he hadn’t truly believed it would.
Now they were about to go on the stage, and Mal wasn’t anywhere in sight.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, finally opening his eyes.
Ryan and Lila were gone.
Okay then. Guess he was on his own, just like the band.
He reached under his shirt and pulled out the silver cross Lila’s mother had given him on his first Christmas at the orchard. He hadn’t been religious even back then, and neither were Lila’s parents for the most part. But Gram had told him that as a musician, he needed to have a higher power to call on for that extra little boost at the eleventh hour. Whether he was bolstered by spirit or self, with that cross, he would never be alone.
Ever since then, he’d always gripped the cross at the times he most needed a hand. The gesture always centered him and reminded him to count his blessings, not his failures.
There would only be blessings tonight.
Feet scuffed the floor behind him and the murmur of voices turned into something else altogether. He turned and glimpsed Elle being plucked up from the bench she’d been seated upon.
By Malachi, who lifted her as if she were a rag doll and he was the Incredible Hulk.
Holy fuck.
He set her down and took the seat she’d just vacated—not by choice. While she sputtered, he opened up what appeared to be a roll of fabric on the bench. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I need this seat for a second.”
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
He gave her a dismissive glance over his shoulder. “No, I don’t suppose you are. Too skinny for me. But cute enough in the right light. You should use more makeup on stage. Your eyes totally disappear under the glare.”
Glowering, Elle lifted her guitar. Since Michael wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t have broken it over his brother’s block head, he moved between them. “Hang on, Elle. No killing the talent, even if he deserves it.” Still facing Elle, Michael reached back and slapped Mal against the ear. “Asshole. Don’t talk to my bandmates like that.”
Malachi grunted, and when Michael looked over his shoulder, he realized the roll of fabric contained a selection of drumsticks. Casual player, hmm? “I’m part of the band tonight. So I guess that makes little Ricki my bandmate too.”
“It’s Elle,” she said, flexing her fist around the neck of her Gibson. “I’m not little either. You’re just a freaking giant.”
Having evidently chosen his preferred weapons of destruction for the night, Mal stood, drawing himself up to his full height. Michael had waited to get the same growth spurt that had sent Mal from scrawny up to mountain man, but it had never happened. Michael had made it to almost six-feet tall, but Mal was six-fucking-four. And he owned every inch.
“What kind of kit am I working with?” Mal asked Michael, though his gaze remained on Elle.
“You?” Lila walked toward them, flanked by Ryan on one side and Molly on the other. “You’re not working with anything.” Her accusing gaze shot to Michael. “This is who you bring on my stage?”
A muscle ticked in Mal’s jaw. “Hiya, stepmommy. Did you miss me?”
Even without glancing at Elle, Michael glimpsed her hand falling slack at her side. Elle was Lila’s husband Nick’s twin sister, which of course made her Lila’s sister-in-law. Evidently, she hadn’t heard much about the prodigal son.
The missing Shawcross son had finally come back—temporarily at least. Assuming Lila didn’t chase him away.
“He can play,” Michael