Page 47
She laughed outright. “A few times. From the conversations he and I had, I’d say he visited with some frequency.”
I set the bowl down and turned to her. “It is being financed by the Riot. My guess is that has more to do with his frequent visits. Is there an electric griddle around here? Or a decent sized skillet I can use?”
She put her glass down. “I’m sorry. I’m being tacky. Not getting enough sleep weakens my conversational filter. And yes, there’s an electric skillet in the cabinet to the right of the oven.”
I moved to the cabinet while shaking my head. “You’re not being tacky. He’s there often enough and we’ve talked quite a bit while he sat at the bar.”
She crossed the kitchen, pulled open a drawer, and handed me a spatula. “What I’m trying to say is that I can see he cares about you. Anyone else wouldn’t be here at all. Certainly not so soon after he moved out of an apartment - so after just half an hour, you’ve got my stamp of approval. Marjorie’s too because it took ages for her to warm up to…the woman we aren’t talking about any more because she’s history.”
By the time I had a stack of eight pancakes, Brandy shot me a sideways glance. “That’s a lot of pancakes, you know.”
I spooned more batter onto the griddle. “Tundra’s moving into a new apartment today - though I suppose moving is a loose term since most of his stuff is at the clubhouse.”
She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “I didn’t know he’d found a place.”
“Neither did I until yesterday.”
A bottle of syrup clunked onto the counter and I looked that way to see Brandy standing close. “I don’t think I need to say this, but I’m going to say it anyway because I wish I’d said this to someone else, but don’t screw him over.”
I turned my head to her.
Before I could say the first word, Tundra asked, “Did I fucking hear you right?”
Brandy angled her body so she faced Tundra. “Ron, it’s not—”
I lowered the griddle temperature and turned to both of them. “Believe it or not, you’re both right.” I looked to Brandy. “I’d never screw Tundra over.” I looked to Tundra. “You can chill on the overbearing-biker vibe, honey. I get what she’s saying, and even though I’m not that kind of woman, I respect her more for warning me.”
His brown eyes blazed at me. “Well, I don’t.”
I shrugged. “Too bad. She’s looking out for you. And seeing as she’s the older sister just like I am, I respect that.”
His eyes traveled toward his eyebrows - not quite an eye roll. “You’re a triplet. You’re not the oldest.”
“Think again, my man. Whether it’s one minute forty-seven seconds or four hundred forty-seven days, I was still born first and that makes me the oldest.”
Brandy giggled.
Tundra and I focused on her.
“This is great. I can see she’s gonna give you all the guff you deserve - just like I would.”
With an arm around my shoulders, Tundra pulled me to him and let out a growly sigh. I put an arm around his waist, leaned against him, and gave him a squeeze.
“What else are you serving with your pancakes, Mick?” he asked.
I shrugged out from under his hold and flipped the pancakes before they burned. “No idea. I was leaving that up to Matthew - or whoever got up first because I didn’t know the lay of the land.”
“Dee, what do you think? Bacon, sausage, or some ham for your munchkins?”
Brandy held out a hand toward us, palm out. “I’ll see what Marjorie wants and be back down.”
Chapter 12
Concerned Brothers
Tundra
Brandy treated Mickayla like she was part of the family. Maybe it was my imagination, but she’d always treated Sarah like she was a passing acquaintance.
