Page 22 of Bitten By Zombie

It covered her ass, but nothing could do for her big ass tits. No way she was getting it buttoned. Zombie was cut, but his chest was nowhere near the size of hers. That shirt skimmed the side of those at best.

“I’m starving, so I’m going to go scrounge up something for breakfast if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I already told you, you’re welcome to anything I have. I’ll join you after I shower.”

Nodding, she left the room and made her way through the clubhouse to the kitchen. A quick search of the pantry and fridge brought up everything she needed to make biscuits and gravy. She would’ve preferred a few different choices, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Besides, this was for them, not herself. Her small way of saying thanks for saving her life.

In no time, the biscuits were baking, and the gravy was simmering. The smells were heavenly and apparently carrying.

One by one, the men she’d met yesterday emerged from their slumber…or other activities and seated themselves at the long bar that spanned almost the entire length of the industrial-sized and equipped kitchen.

“Shit, little lady, if Zombie doesn’t lock you down, I just might do it myself,” Santa teased as he donned a potholder and pulled the last tray of biscuits from the oven before they burned.

“Thanks for grabbing those. My hands are a little full.” She ignored the lockdown comment and ladled up gravy over split biscuits, and set the plate on the counter in front of no one in particular, but a fight broke out between Outlaw and Hook for dibs.

“I’ll stab you with the fork if you don’t unhand my plate, veep.”

“Over my dead body, Hook. You said it yourself, I’m the vice, and I’m pulling rank over this plate.”

Hook groused, but that quickly turned to howling laughter when Squatch grabbed a fork and stole a huge bite from the plate in question.

“Ugh, take it, asshole, it’s yours now.”

Squatch grinned and tucked into his meal.

“Works every time.”

“Bro, chew then talk or talk then chew. Not both at the same time. Have some fucking manners in front of the lady.”

That from Iron, who she’d met briefly last night before he grabbed one of the girl’s asses and dragged her away. Gwyn, she thought it was.

She served up more plates until everyone present had one. Even her. She stood across the counter eating, occasionally stepping back to stir the gravy.

Squatch had cleaned his plate and was literally licking it like there was no tomorrow. “There’s plenty if you want seconds.”

Heidi held out her hand to refill his plate, but he didn’t bother even waiting to the last syllable before he was standing at the stove ladling more sausage gravy over biscuits. A short line formed behind him. Lucky for her, Virus and Wall Street remained seated.

“Just the men I wanted to talk to.” She spooned the last bite into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Zombie says your club runs a private security firm, and you two are the go-to guys? What kind of things do you do?”

“Anything and everything,” Wall Street answered, leaving Virus to elaborate.

“Whatever is needed to protect our clients. Sometimes it’s more virtual—that’s my forte—sometimes, it’s more hands-on. Depending on the size of the problem, we sometimes rely on all the brothers to help us out. Either way, we protect them and their interests no matter what.”

He spoke with such surety. The kind that let people know they would die or kill for them if necessary. Not that she wanted that, but she needed that level of commitment. There was a voice inside her that kept saying she would never be safe from Stan no matter who she hired, but she refused to listen to it.

Hook piped up from the stove where he was on his thirds. “Like this one time, it was a shitty boss who was getting handsy with a waitress, so they sent me in as her deranged ex-con boyfriend to scare the piss out of him. Worked too, he literally pissed his fucking pants, and I didn’t even hit him.”

“Are you taking on new clients?”

A hint of suspicion crept into Wall Street’s steady gaze. “We are always and not at the same time. We are…selective about who we help. For example, what Hook said? It was actually the boss who came to hire us to deal with an employee stealing and making false accusations. Turns out, he was the one in the wrong, so we didn’t take him as a client. Instead, we took her… pro bono.”

“Wow. How’d it all turn out for her in the end?”

“He left her alone. We checked in a month or so later, and things were good. That’s all we know. We told her to follow up if she had any issues, and we haven’t heard from her, so…”

It sounded perfect, although she’d have to share details about her embarrassing and perverse family with a lot more people, but it had to be done. She couldn’t let Zombie get attached to someone like her. Not him or any of these men. They were really the good guys. A business relationship was the way to put that separation there.

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