Matteo held up a small backpack to me. “Can you put that into your trunk?”
I gave him an incredulous look. “My Harley might have more storage room than your dick compensation but it doesn’t have a trunk.”
Matteo’s grin widened. “My dick’s fine, ask my wife. Now what about my backpack. I need my beauty products. This face doesn’t stay as pretty as it is without some work.”
I shook my head and ripped the backpack from his grasp. “If you wear a facemask at any point in our trip, I’ll cut your fuel supply and take off to go looking for some real men to go camping with.”
Amo snorted. “Good luck finding someone who doesn’t want to kill you for bounty.”
“No reason to feel threatened in your manliness only because I take care of my beauty,” Matteo said with a smirk. “You aren’t my type, so even if I was gay you wouldn’t become my bottom.”
“Geez, my heart’s broken.”
Amo straddled his bike. “You’re both old gossips. If anyone cuts your fuel supplies and takes off, then it’s me.”
“What about your beauty product? Do you have a bag for my trunk as well?”
Amo motioned at a sleek black backpack strapped to his back. “I’m all set. I don’t need beauty products. I’m a natural.”
Matteo patted his shoulder. “Says the chick who just got his pubic hair. Wait twenty years then we’ll talk again.”
I rammed my foot down on the gas, letting my engine roar, drowning out Amo’s comeback. When silence settled once more, I muttered, “How about we get going? This weekend will be a long one anyway.”
Matteo raced ahead on occasion, only to allow us to catch up again. Amo too did the occasional detour off the road to fly across some dips. I didn’t let their stunts distract me from the feeling of my bike gliding over the road. This was the first time I wasn’t riding alone and even though it wasn’t the same as flying across the street in a group of Harleys, it felt good being with others for once.
Of course, neither Matteo nor Amo were real bikers.
Shortly before sunset, Matteo pulled over at a public campsite with a view over a small lake. We were the only campers there. When the sound of our engines settled down and we got off our bikes, I looked around. This was the perfect place to get rid of someone. I cocked an eyebrow. “Be honest, will you drown me in the lake with a rock at my feet?”
“Why use a rock? We could just tie you to your bike and throw you in the water. That way you’d die with the thing you love so much.”
“I’m glad you gave it plenty of thought already,” I muttered, glad I’d packed a knife and gun.
“I’m a professional killer. I don’t have to give it much thought, it comes naturally.”
Amo gave me a hard smile. “I suppose you won’t sleep much tonight.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, starting to unpack the saddlebags.
I hadn’t packed a tent. I preferred to sleep in my sleeping bag under the open sky and watch the stars.
Matteo didn’t have a tent either, because he didn’t have room in his beauty bag for one.
Without my saddlebags, we would have gone hungry and thirsty. “You don’t often camp, right?”
Matteo leaned back with a grin. “First time for me.”
I shook my head. “Let me guess, only five-star resorts so far.”
Amo began setting up a small tent he’d somehow crammed into his backpack. “I’m the only person in the family who even owns a tent and that’s only because of the motocross races. There aren’t always decent places to stay nearby.”
“I don’t suppose either of you can set up a fire or cook?”
Matteo took out a lighter. “I have experience burning things down, or on occasion, people.”
“Let me handle the fire,” Amo said and surprised me by creating a decent bonfire within a few minutes.
Matteo hadn’t moved a muscle.
I grabbed the bottle of bourbon and threw two cans with Texas chili in his direction. “Why don’t you start dinner?”
“You should have brought a Scottish Single Malt.”
I took a big gulp. “We’re going camping, so lower your expectations.”
“You mean like my sister did?” Amo butted in.
“Here we go,” I muttered. “Is this your attempt to talk me into bailing before the marriage?”
“Would you bail if we gave you the right incentive?” Matteo asked, suddenly keen.
I gave them a condescending look. “Nothing in this world could make me bail. If you want to stop this wedding from happening, you’ll have to try drowning me with my bike, otherwise I’ll accept Marcella’s hand from Luca, and thank God that a woman like her chose me.”
Matteo handed me a can. “Where are the bowls?”
“No bowls. We’ll have to eat straight out of the can.”
“Great, if I’d known spit exchange was included in the trip I would have stayed home,” Amo joked.