Chapter 4 #2
“Sure, you’re not,” Red agreed. “Upstairs. I want my breakfast even if you don’t.”
Kit shimmied up the stairs to his bedroom, making sure Red got an eyeful of his hip wiggle. He didn’t look back to see if Red was paying attention. He was sure Red was, even if he pretended otherwise.
Was he surprised Red followed him into the bedroom? No, not really. Would Padraig have followed? No, he doubted that too.
He looked over his shoulder. “You can wait outside.”
Red leaned against the door frame, waving his hand as if to say get on with it.
Kit flung the robe on the bed. Red had gotten a good look at the goods last night.
There was no point being coy now. He tugged on briefs from the top drawer of his chest, then wriggled into a skin-tight cerise shirt and skinny jeans, displaying the ink on his arms, fantasy water scenes in vivid greens and blues.
The shirt barely skimmed his waistband and Kit made sure he raised his arms over his shoulders to expose the red and turquoise cobra spread over his taut belly again.
The whole time, Red watched him with that same bland expression, but Kit knew it was fake. He’d seen the real Red last night in that fleeting darkening of his eyes. Never mind, Kit could wait him out. He knew how to play the game.
Back in the kitchen, Tony greeted him with a glower. “Geez, kid, this isn’t a nightclub.”
Kit looked down at his T-shirt and jeans, confused. “What sorta nightclubs do you go to? I wouldn’t be seen dead in something like this.”
Tony gave a disgusted grunt.
Red just waved Kit to the table and placed a plate of bacon, sausages, eggs, and toast in front of him, then fetched his own plate and slid into the chair next to him.
Kit looked at it in dismay. “That’s more than I eat in a week. I’ll need bigger jeans.”
“Eat what you can,” Red urged. “Breakfast is important.”
“I just want coffee.”
“Eat.”
Padraig chuckled. “Give it up, kid. The Biker Daddy Bodyguards live to feed their boys. You won’t win this battle.”
He laughed even harder as Red, Kit, and Tony glared at him.
“He’s not my boy,” Red snarled.
“I’m not a kid,” Kit snapped.
Tony frowned. “My brother is off-limits. That’s why I asked for Red. At least I know Red has no interest in my kid brother.”
That’s what you think, big bro! That was his first thought, followed by, he’s never going to touch me now.
Kit had a feeling Red wanted to run his tongue all over Kit’s ink, but Tony had just staked a ten-foot forcefield around Kit which Red was too much of a professional to break, and he was a member of the club, even if he hadn’t been around for a while.
Padraig raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Whatever you say, but you asked for Red and he’s a Biker Daddy Bodyguard, whatever he says.
He will feed Kit and make sure he sleeps etc.
, because that’s what they do. If you want the usual type of protection detail, you should have asked for the booted and suited in CDR.”
“You’re fired,” Kit said to Red.
Red leaned back in his seat. “You’re not my employer, kid.”
Kit glowered at him.
“Kit,” Red amended, “but I’m not technically even working for CDR yet and I told them I just wanted a normal detail. They didn’t listen to me either.”
Padraig stood and picked up his empty plate.
“I’m staying out of this. Give me my orders and I’ll do it.
In the meantime, decide what you are and talk to Dominic, otherwise you put the kid—Kit—in danger.
Make sure he eats, because you never know when you’re gonna get the next meal.
And Kit, do what he tells you because you’re in real danger and disobeying him just to get your kicks could be your last move. ”
Kit stared at him, not sure if Padraig was just trying to scare him, but his humor had faded and the serious expression told him Padraig meant business.
“Don’t scare the kid,” Red growled. “And eat your eggs. I know you like those.”
Kit nodded, Red had cooked his eggs just the way he liked them, sunny side up. He’d leave everything else, but he’d eat the eggs just to get them off his back.
Padraig left the kitchen, which left Kit, Red, and Tony avoiding each other’s eyes in an awkward silence.
“Red, we need to talk,” Tony said, his thick brows furrowed.
Red inclined his head. “Yeah, we do.”
Kit opened his mouth to argue, then he sighed. “I need coffee,” he said for a second time.
Red poured coffee for the three of them, doctoring two of them with sugar and creamer.
He’d spent years around the brothers before he vanished from the club.
He didn’t need to ask the way they liked their coffee.
He returned to the table to finish his plate.
Kit murmured his thanks and drank half the cup in one go.
“You did well,” Red said, nodding at Kit’s plate.
Kit looked down and discovered he’d eaten the eggs and bacon and almost all the toast, just leaving the sausages. “I was hungrier than I expected,” he admitted.
Grinning, Red leaned over and speared the sausages, giving one to Tony and he ate the other. His smile warmed Kit through and eased some of the tension that had coiled in his belly since Padraig had reminded him that he was in danger, and this wasn’t some weird game they were playing.
“Bring your plate to the dishwasher if you’re finished,” Red said.
“I ain’t your kid,” Kit reminded him for what felt like the millionth time. “I don’t need to be told to clean up.”
“I want to run the dishwasher,” Red said levelly.
“You don’t have to do the housework,” Tony said, pushing his plate away. “The women of the club do that.”
Red’s lips tightened. “You know I don’t agree with that. It’s archaic expecting the women to clean up after the men. And this is something we must talk about. CDR won’t want people wandering in and out of here.”
“They ain’t people. They’re family,” Tony pointed out. “You know most of them.”
“I do. But until they’re cleared by CDR, they don’t come in here and you do your own clearing up.”
Kit held his breath, waiting for his brother to explode. Tony hated anyone giving him orders, particularly members of the club. Red was going to get a mouthful of Tony Monroe and then maybe this whole farce could be over and done.