Page 1 of The Biker's Brother

CHAPTER ONE

Texas

For almost two years every hour that Brandon St. Germaine wasn’t working at Germane Enterprises had been spent at the motorcycle club his grandfather had founded in 1975. He’d moved as much of the operation to Austin as possible and restructured his job description to free up time.

His father and brother had taught him about their side of the family and the legacy of the club. In exchange he offered suggestions here and there on how to make their own business enterprises more profitable. All in all he was satisfied with his new life, which was worlds away from the way he’d lived in New York. In fact there was only one thing he’d change if he could.

He wasn’t a member of the club and couldn’t be so long as he continued to run Germane. It was an odd situation, being part of the club’s royal family and an outsider at the same time. Some of the members had become friends. Others regarded him with a polite distance that bore a marked resemblance to suspicion.

It was a Thursday in mid-October when Brandon showed up at the clubhouse wearing jeans, boots, and a pink collared Polo. He knocked on the doorjamb of Brant’s office.

Brant pulled his newspaper down far enough to see who was there. His eyes traveled down and back up before he said, “You look ridiculous. Men don’t wear pink.” He pulled his newspaper back up and continued reading as if Brandon wasn’t there.

“This is faded salmon. Not pink. You know, Brash told me he expected you to get less grouchy after Mom moved in with you, but it’s starting to look like that’s not going to happen. Ever.”

Brant moved his paper aside.

“I save my sweetness for where it belongs. Is there something you’re wanting from me? ‘Cause here you are on a weekday wearing ‘faded salmon’ instead of a suit.”

“Yeah.”

“Well? Spit it out.”

“I can’t join the club.”

“First. Who asked you? Second. Why’s that?”

Brand opened his mouth and closed it as he realized they’d never talked about it. He cleared his throat.

“I didn’t mean to overstep or make assumptions. But if I was invited,” he paused to gauge his dad’s reaction to that, “I couldn’t become a member because of my responsibility to Germane and especially to the health of Mom’s interest.”

Brant’s nostrils flared slightly.

“I’ll take care of your mother and you know it.”

Brandon walked that back as fast as he could.

“Yes. Of course I know it. But she has a lot of personal history with the company. It wouldn’t make her happy if it failed.”

Brant put down the paper. After a few seconds, he nodded slightly.

“So that’s what you wanted? To tell me why you’re not joining a club you haven’t been asked to join?”

“If you’ve always been this hard to talk to, I’m amazed that Brash turned out so good.”

“I haven’t had enough coffee for a critique of my parenting.”

Brand shook his head.

“Okay. You’re a bottom line kind of guy. Here it is. I can’t become a member of the club. I understand the whole dues-paying prospect thing. And I’ll never be able to do that. I guess the best I can hope for is hangaround. But I’d still like to have the respect of my family’s… ah, associates.”

Brant stood up. “Did you drive or ride?”

Brandon grinned. “Rode.”

Brant suppressed a little smile of satisfaction.

“That’s my boy. Let’s go to Chuy’s and have a little talk.” He stretched and adjusted his package. “Lucky for you my manhood is secure enough to withstand being seen with a grown man wearing pussy pink.”

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