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Snoopy held up both tattooed hands in surrender. “Nah, Rubble, I’d never do that.” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “I just wanna make sure my old lady and kid are safe.”
“We’ll send the women and children to the other safe house,” Rubble stated, setting his cup on the table. “Will that satisfy you?”
“Yeah, brother, it would. Thank you.” Snoopy stood and hurried off toward the bedrooms.
Doc could only imagine why. He was worried about Isa too. If he had the chance to spirit her somewhere safer, he’d jump at it.
“Really wish Kevlar was here,” Rubble mumbled. “He never talked back.”
Brewer chuckled. “Yeah right. Kevlar talks shit more than Snoopy.”
“True, but he knows when to shut the hell up.”
Doc blew on his coffee. “Kevlar die?”
“Nah, he was deployed.” Brewer snatched a piece of banana bread from the platter on the table. There was always something sweet in case of midnight snacks or early risers. “He’s special ops in the Army. Been gone two years.”
“He’s one of the best,” Rubble added. “He and I met overseas, and he convinced me to join Macha. I trust no one more than Kevlar.”
“Sounds like a good dude.” Doc took a drink and listened to the cabin coming alive with the morning light. Somebody was getting fucked, that much he could tell from the sounds. A baby cried for her mother, and the stomping of feet could only mean Macha’s bikers were awake.
“He’ll be back soon.”
Doc glanced at Brewer. “How do you know?”
Brewer bit into the bread. “He touched base with Rubble. His deployment is done. Not sure if he’s re-upping, but he’ll be home within the week.”
“Good. We can use all the help we can get.”
Rubble’s eyes flicked between the two men across from him. “That we can.”
* * *
Over the next hour,more people weaved in and out of the kitchen, grabbing breakfast and trying to hurry Doc’s cinnamon twists along so they could taste them.
He was rolling out the dough when Isa’s silhouette caught the corner of his eye. He looked up in time to see her smile at Brewer.Thank God they’re related.His redheaded brother was a subtle charmer and wouldn’t think twice if she was interested.
“What’re you doing?”
Doc stamped down his excitement when she touched the small of his back. It felt so innocent, yet he knew precisely what she could do with that hand. “Making cinnamon twists.”
“You bake?” Her brows rose.
“Yeah, so?”
She chuckled. “I never imagined you covered in flour.”
He lowered his eyes and swore. His black shirt was nearly white from the flour.
“I like a man who knows his way around the kitchen.” She kissed his cheek. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Actually, yes.” He grabbed the bowl of cinnamon and sugar. “I’ll paint the dough if you add the cinnamon sugar.”
She quirked her brow. “Paint?”
He held up a bowl of melted butter. “Yep, paint.”
Shrugging, she agreed, and they quickly started an assembly line, Doc using a small brush to apply the butter and Isa smothering the dough with cinnamon sugar. By the end, every countertop was covered in dough.
