“It was the least I could do.” Race vocalized softly for him.
He rumbled back, and if they weren’t careful they would bear out together, and he wasn’t sure the tub could take that.
About the time they finally disconnected his knot, and they were kind of prune-y, he heard his phone going off in the house.
Then Race’s.
Shit. That couldn’t mean anything good. He gently lifted Race off his lap and hauled his ass out of the tub so he could trot into the house to grab his phone.
War was calling him, and Nolan was calling Race. Con grabbed his phone to answer it, then handed Race his as he came hurrying into the house.
He answered just as Race did, both of them growlng, “What’s going on?”
“What the fuck took you so long to answer your phone? I need you on your bike and at the bar now.”
“Shit, what happened?”
“I don’t wanna have to tell everything twice or even three times. Just get your ass here. Suffice to say it’s about the bunny.”
“Let me just get dressed. We’ll be there in twenty.”
“I don’t even wanna know,” Warrick snapped, and he hung up.
Race had also hung up, and he raised an eyebrow at Con. “That was Nolan, He says Rye’s been calling him, trying to get him to tell me to come to the bar.”
“Me too. Let’s go.”
Race arched an eyebrow. “Can I get dressed first, asshole?”
“Well, yeah. I need to, as well. And we need to take our bikes, not the SUV. Not sure why.” But he was all for following the letter of War’s command so he didn’t get into trouble.
“Okay…weird, but fun.” Race did love to ride — Con loved that about the pretty son of a bitch.
Hell, he loved it all so far. Even the stubborn, ego-driven need to rescue everyone and feel responsible for it all.
“Come on, we need to get dressed.”
Pushy.
He was also pushy.
Connal dried off with a towel, then helped Race do the same before they dressed and stomped into riding boots.
He stole one more kiss before they went to the garage to start their babies.
They’d go see what was what, fix it, and then get back in the hot tub. Or in the den.
He had some snuggling to do.
Chapter
Nine
Race was curious as hell about what was going on, and Nolan was being weirdly and suspiciously quiet.
They’d let us know if we were riding into a trap, right?
Of course they would. This is Rye and War, not some random information gatherer.
