Wait, what did Mo just say?
Interviewinghim.
Holden did an exaggerated look around. “He told me. I can’t see your interview. I can see you playing eight-ball with….” Holden squinted at him. “I know you.”
“I worked for Monaghan,” Red said, figuring he didn’t need to add he was just a grunt on Holden’s detail. Ah, that made Con his assistant, Con Ruiz. Not Quinn’s boy, Con C. The assistant must have the patience of a saint to deal with a nightmare like Holden.
“Yes. So why are you here?”
Red was about to point out it was none of his business when Mo spoke up. “Daddy Red isn’t the kind of guy who interviews in a suit.”
“So you played pool with him.” Joseph was clearly skeptical.
So was Red.
“I’m not a Daddy,” he growled.
Joseph turned on him. “You’re a boy?” Then he swung back to Mo. “You’re lying to me?”
Mo groaned and scowled at Red. “Geez, Red. You know better than to do that.”
Now it felt like a repeat of his interview. There were reasons Red had stayed away from the scene. The endless nagging for one.
Mo kissed Joseph until he was breathless, his eyes unfocused. Then he said, “Red is out of the community, but he’s a Daddy, whatever bullshit he comes out with.”
“Like you, then,” Joseph said. “Like you were,” he amended, “until you met me.”
Red had to watch as Mo gathered Joseph in his arms and held him close, whispering something in his ear. His heart ached too much to spend the evening with them. It was time to go home.
He picked up his bag and jacket. The two men were still involved with each other, not paying attention to Red who had a feeling Joseph needed some reassurance.
Red waved at Aaron as he headed for the door, grinning as Aaron blew him a kiss. The bartender had never been his kind of boy, but he was perfect for his Daddy.
“Wait.”
Red looked over his shoulder to see Mo jogging over to him. “Did I leave something behind?”
Mo held out a card. “Quinn asked me to give you this if you change your mind.”
Red looked at the card. It had a raised silver foil motorbike on the front. That was it. He turned it over to see Biker Daddy Bodyguards and a phone number in small black text.
“Call him,” Mo said.
“I won’t change my mind.”
Mo’s expression turned bleak. “The boy’s in trouble, Red.”
“Then CDR can protect him.”
That was their damn job after all.
“He needs a Daddy,” Mo insisted.
Red gave him a wry smile. “Then find him one.”
“We did,” Mo said pointedly.
Red shook his head. “I stopped being a Daddy the day my boy walked out of my life.”
