Brainy and the Beast (34 page)

“Good boy?”
Damn
. Henry was hot any time he sported that confident look. But now? When he’d just been looking so unsure? Major hot.

“Oh, yeah.” I inched tighter to him, sliding a knee between his thighs. “Mm-hmm.”

“Yes. You’ve mentioned you like it when I say that too.” Oh, he’d gotten his mojo back.

My hair made a scratching noise on the pillow as I nodded. Our noses were about five inches apart. “Yeah. So, you know you do it for me. You.” I met his gaze for a brief second, then watched my fingers as I caressed his poor, bruised jaw. “You’re special. You’re…you’re actually nice.” I ignored his huffed denial. “You are.” I looked him in the eye again. “You care about my dad. You care about my dogs, my business. You even care about Grant.” At his reluctant smile, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “And I have a pretty good idea that I do it for you too.”

His brows quirked in agreement.

“Okay, so maybe I wasn’t ready to say anything yet.” Now it was my turn to slant a frown his way. “Man, you sure can get huffy, by the way.” Remembering the way he’d stalked out of the dojang, I wanted to give him some shit on that. “I thought that glass door was going to break when you slammed it.”

With a big exhalation, Henry settled deeper into his pillow. “I can’t believe everything that happened today, speaking of that. Your
friend
, Nestor. Your nephew’s friend, Shawn, and those social mutants who were waiting for her.” He shook his head, wriggling, and gave a disdainful hum. “And I’m quite sure I’ll be sore tomorrow. Bruised and sore.” His eyes met mine. “Then tonight? Here? You. Me. This. Us.”

“Yeah. Us.” I hesitated. “I seem to recall that I said it. And you haven’t.”

“It?”

“Yeah. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“What are you talking about?”

I reached under the cover to pinch his nipple and was gratified by his squeak. “You
know
. The
L
word.”

Henry batted a hand at me. “Oh. Yes.
That
word.”

“Well?”

When he bit his lip, I started to get nervous. Had I said it for nothing?

“Doc?”

“I love you, Nicholas Shelton. And I want to be with you. Always.”

My mouth opened for a second. “Whoa. Wow.” To actually hear him say it was… Wow.

He frowned. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

I nodded rapidly.

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“It’s just…” I breathed in deep. “You amaze me, Doc. You do. You go all in, don’t you? No halfway kind of thing. Not at all.”

He caressed my cheek. “I believe it was your father who told me to ‘go big or stay home.’”

I shouted with laughter and rolled on top of him. “I can see I need to have my dad play cards with you more often.” Propping myself on my elbows, I smiled down at him. “Well,
Dr
. Travis. Here goes. I love you too.” I arched one brow. “And not just kind of.”

He snorted.

“All right. So maybe I was hedging my bets back there.” I jerked my head toward the bathroom.

“Just maybe?” His blue eyes were shining at me. Those gorgeous peepers had rung my bell from the first time we’d met.

“Yeah, I know. Not really a maybe about it. I’ll try to work on that for you.” I bent down to plant one on him.

He hummed into the kiss, then licked his lips when I pulled back. “I’d appreciate that.”

* * * *

I could hear the dogs barking as they charged up the stairs.

“Looks like we got ourselves a full house this morning.” My dad tapped a knuckle on my bathroom door and pushed it open. The boys followed him in, wiggling and nuzzling against my legs.

I clicked off my razor. “Huh?” I set it back in the charger, then flipped open my shaving lotion.

“You boys have fun last night?”

That stopped me. “What?” Our eyes met in the mirror.

“You and the genius.”

Oh, shit. He’d heard us, all the way down the hall?

My dad burst into laughter. “You should see the look on your face.” Guffawing, he smacked his thigh as he leaned against the door frame.

I couldn’t even put two words together.

“Relax, Nick. Relax.” Still chuckling, Big Mike straightened. “As if I’d want to hear what goes on in here. I just meant that Henry’s still here, and he’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Plus he’s got this big old smile on his face.” My dad gave a sideways grin. “I don’t normally see the genius looking so happy. That’s all I meant.”

Uh-huh. “Oh. Okay. Um. Yeah.” What the hell else could I say?

“So. You boys must have done something good after I went to bed.”

“Dad. Stop already.” I was
not
going to discuss it with my father.

“Spoilsport.”

My dad followed me into the bedroom, where I pulled on jeans over my boxer briefs. I had to muffle a groan at the tightness in my back muscles. Felt like I’d wrenched something. Not only that, my left hammy was twinging. I curled my lip. Something else to lay at the feet of Jeff Hastings and his skinhead crew. Bastards.

I straightened my shoulders and resolved to forget those assholes for right now. They were in jail—and I wasn’t. That was a victory no matter how I looked at it.

“Jake called. Seems Rick Andreczyck is at the shop saying you’re going to give him a ride somewhere?”

“What?” I looked at the clock. “It’s only seven thirty!”

My dad held up both hands. “Whoa there, cowboy. You want to tell me what’s going on? With everything?”

When I just looked at him, he gestured with one hand. “You know. Henry. The bruises on his face. Andreczyck. Grant sleeping in the den. Why he was out late with you last night. His little girlfriend sleeping in his room. Why they don’t want to go to school today.” He grunted. “That’ll teach me to go to bed early around here.”

I yanked a sweater over my head. “For fuck’s sake.” Ignoring his automatic tsking sound, I stalked to the dresser for a pair of socks. “I was having a great morning, you know?”

“Apparently.”

“Whatever.” My boots were downstairs, so I shoved my feet into my deerskin slippers. “What’s the temp outside?” It was sunny as all get-out, but the sky was such a blinding blue that I knew it had to be fucking freezing outside.

“Nineteen. Plus the wind’s blowing a little bit.”

“Jeez.” I shivered in reaction. “Okay, fine. Let’s go downstairs. Henry and I will fill you in.” I clomped down the stairs. “I cannot believe that idiot Rick is at the shop already.”

“Well, if we’re starting up a limousine service, I think we should use Henry’s Buick.”

“Dad. You’re hilarious.” Rolling my eyes, I headed for the kitchen, Dad hot on my heels.

My very handsome lover was pouring juice for the two kids, chatting with them as Grant and Shawn gobbled up pancakes. I stopped still at the domestic scene, a warm feeling in my middle, and my dad ran into me from behind. “Dad!” I whirled around to face him.

“Well,” he blustered, “don’t look at me. You just stopped!” He stalked around me, managing to look like the injured party.

Henry set the juice carton on the counter. “Everything okay?”

I ignored my dad’s muttering as the old man took a seat at the table. “Yeah, babe. We’re good.” I moved close, reaching for a coffee cup from the cabinet over his shoulder.

Henry blinked; then his lips tilted in a slow smile. “Babe? I think I like hearing that.” His hand settled on my lower back.

Our lips met in a soft, slow kiss. “Mmm. You taste like cinnamon.” His jaw was a little blue and purple but didn’t look too bad. That swollen eye made my belly muscles tighten for a second or two, though.

He patted my ass. “Mm-hmm. I woke up early and felt somewhat ambitious this morning.” He sent me a sweet, sly grin. “I made pancakes. And bacon.”

I was already salivating.

“And cinnamon rolls.”

“From scratch, Uncle Nick.”

Shocked that I’d forgotten everyone else in the room, I jerked my head back. “Oh. Um.” I bit my lip and darted a sideways look at my nephew. He was watching me with curious eyes. Shawn’s head was bent toward her plate, but I could see her gaze flicking our way. “From scratch, eh?” I felt the urge to say something.

“Here. Have some and go sit down.” Henry held out the glass pot and I obediently slid my cup under it. “I’ll get you some pancakes. Take your dad some coffee too.” He handed me a second cup.

When I sat down at the table, everyone was suspiciously quiet. Even, wonder of wonders, my father. That didn’t stop them from eyeballing me, though, which they obviously thought I couldn’t see.

“What?” Couldn’t a man kiss his guy in his own damned house?

All I got were wide-eyed stares in return.

“Look.” I pushed my coffee cup out of the way as Henry set a plate in front of me. “We said the
L
word, okay?”

“Library?” My dad watched me over his cup.

“Ha-ha.” I had to refrain from barking at the sniggering teenagers. “You know the one I mean.” I inhaled slowly.

Henry delivered pancakes to my dad, then sat down next to me. When he handed me the syrup bottle with a smile that seemed just for me, I could feel the tension start to leak out of me.

None of us were going to get the call to host a talk show, that was for damned sure. Other than the sound of Rum’s tags jingling as he scratched his ear, the kitchen was pretty quiet. Seemed like a good idea to just eat my breakfast.

Apparently that’s what everyone else thought too as we chomped. Henry’s homemade cinnamon rolls were outstanding, and I managed an impressed look as I swallowed the first one.

My dad cleared his throat. “So.”

“So.” I cut another wedge of Henry’s pancakes and shoved it in my mouth. “Damn, these are really good.” Except it sounded like
theeth are weally gooth.

Henry pressed his lips together, but I spotted the smirk before he could hide it.

“Uncle Nick, you tell me not to talk with my mouth full.” Grant managed the complaint around a bite of bacon.

Henry earned a glare when I heard a suspicious snort from his direction.

“Forget about that.” My dad waved away the idea that we should care about couth at the breakfast table. “Way more important things to talk about. You want to tell me what the heck is going on now? I go to bed, and we’re a normal house—well, kind of normal. Maybe a little less than normal.” He lifted a superior eyebrow at my squinty look. “Anyway. Then I get up and it’s Abby-Normal.” When I frowned at him in exasperation, he raised both hands. “What? That’s what Igor calls it.”

My father’s preference for Mel Brooks movies in general, and
Young Frankenstein
in particular, was pretty famous in our family. “Not talking about that.” I jerked my head in Shawn’s direction.

“Oh.” He dipped his head toward Grant’s little friend. “Oh, sorry about that, little lady. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Shelton.” Voice low, Shawn edged her chair closer to Grant.

“Look. Dad. We had a few things happen yesterday, but it’s no big deal.” I grabbed the last two pieces of bacon before Grant could nab them. “Henry. Stop coughing. And Grant, I’ll get to you in a second.” My nephew was dancing in his seat, looking like he wanted to raise his hand and be recognized.

Sighing at the thought that my last two pancakes were probably going to get cold, I sat back in my chair and propped an ankle on one knee. I managed a small bite of bacon before I began. “Yesterday, I asked Henry to meet me at the dojang while Grant was practicing. Shawn was there too.” I stole a look at the big clock over the cabinets, realizing what time it was. “Hey. First period started about twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah.” Grant shoveled another mouthful in.

“Um, yeah? Then why are you still here?” I recalled what my dad had said as we were coming downstairs. “And what do you mean you don’t want to go to school today?”

Looking carefully among us three adults, Grant swallowed slowly. “Um. I thought. We thought—”

When Shawn whispered in his ear, he grimaced and sat back, taking her hand.

“Well?”

“What if Shawn’s mom comes over here this morning?” Grant shot a glance toward the mudroom, as if Mrs. Ginsburg would materialize in the doorway. “What if—what if her
dad
comes over here?” He was practically whispering now.

I grunted. “I’m kind of hoping that asshole comes over, if you want to know the truth.” I reached for my fork and stabbed another piece of pancake, a snarl twisting my lips. The quiet around the table stopped the forkful halfway to my mouth. Everyone was staring at me. “What?” I turned to Henry. “Babe, what?”

Henry dabbed at his lip with a napkin. “Um. I don’t have a lot of experience with children, but I’m fairly sure it’s not appropriate to discuss Shawn’s father in quite that manner.”

“Jesus, Doc. You sure do take a mouthful of words to get your point across.” Nevertheless, he’d made it. I put my fork down. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I shouldn’t get carried away like that. It was wrong of me. I won’t do it again.” I sent both teenagers an apologetic glance.

“Will someone please tell me just what in the hell is going on here?” My dad slapped the table in his annoyance.

As if he’d flipped a switch, Henry and the kids all started talking at once. Loudly. Even, I was surprised to see, little Miss Shawn.

Dad had the funniest expression on his face, and I hid a grin as he tried to sort out who was saying what. From where I sat, it didn’t look like he was having a lot of luck.

I stuck my fingers between my teeth and whistled sharply. That shocked the talkers into shutting up, and they stared at me.

“Thank you.” I adjusted my chair and took a sip of coffee. “Now, then. Dad, it’s like this. I texted Henry to meet me at the dojang last night, which he did.”

“And I’m still waiting for my spark plugs, by the way.” Henry’s naughty whisper was kind of heard across the table, judging by the widened eyes all around.

“You’re not helping.” My lover was definitely feeling his oats this morning—and I just knew my cheeks were burning.

“Dudes. Really?” Grant sounded like he was having trouble keeping his pancakes down.