Page 65 of The Biker's Brother

He heard the anxiety in her voice. “You’re as safe here as you would be if you were in a Fort Knox bunker.”

Noting that he didn’t answer the question, she looked at the buildings lit by outdoor halogens on poles. “I know, but I’m, um, used toyou.”

Brand opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, somebody opened the driver’s side door.

“You gonna sit out here all night?”

It was Carlot. Brand got a half hug and slap on the back when he got out of the car. “Your pop has been a bear with a bee hive up his ass while you’ve been gone. We’re all glad to see this over.” He looked at Cami, who had gotten out of the car and was gripping her overnight bag in front of her like it was a lifesaver. “You did good.”

It was Carlot’s way of letting Brand know that he’d gotten what he wanted out of the gig. Respect from the club members.

“Thanks.” He walked around to Cami and took her bag. “Carlot, this is Ro… This is Camden Carmichael.” He put his arm around Cami again, something that was becoming a habit, and gave her a little squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.”

Carlot held open the door and they stepped inside the clubhouse. It was on the quiet side. Apparently Brant had read everybody the riot act about not scaring the client’s daughter.

The big screen TV was on above the bar. Three club members sat on stools with long necks. They looked Cami over and nodded at Brandon.

Brant emerged from the hallway that led to his office with a big grin on his face. When he reached them, he nodded at Brandon and held his hand out to Cami.

“Ms. Carmichael, it’s a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” she said politely, shaking his hand.

“This is my dad,” Brand said.

“I could tell,” she replied. “There’s a definite resemblance.”

Brand nodded. “Y’all hungry?”

“Yes. We haven’t had dinner. I hope you’ve got something green. She likes tofu, hummus, wheat germ…”

After looking at Cami like she had a terminal illness, Brant said, “We can manage green salad.”

“Stop it.” Brant’s eyes tracked Cami playfully slapping Brandon’s arm. “Whatever you have is fine, I’m learning to appreciate the pleasures of poison.”

“No doubt.” Brant gave Brandon a reprimanding look about the affectionate familiarity the client’s daughter was showing him.

Knowing what that look was about, Brandon just shrugged and smiled at his father. It was a silent challenge that said, “Some things are none of your business, old man.”

“She’s in Brigid’s old room,” Brant said.

“Okay. Meet you in the kitchen in a minute.” Brandon tugged Cami in the direction of the sleeping quarters. When they reached the last door on the right, he said, “This is you. For the next few days.”

That answered the question about whether or not he was staying. She wasn’t going to beg or fall into a puddle. She was going to put a big girl smile on her face and let him go. After all, what other outcome could there have been? Since the moment she laid eyes on him, they’d been moving toward the day, hour, and minute when they would be permanently parted.

“It’s not the Sherry Netherland, but you’ll be safe.”

She set her bag down on the bed. “And warm and dry.”

She looked over at him in a way that asked if the past three days had meant anything to him. “And warm and dry.” He repeated it quietly in a way that didn’t reveal anything about his feelings. She was left with the impression that she could mean nothing to him or everything. “I’m going to my place tonight. After dinner. I’ve got stuff to catch up on. But I’ll be back tomorrow and, if you need to talk to me, just ask anybody to get me on the phone.”

Nodding, she wrapped her arms around her waist and walked toward where he stood in the doorway. “Okay.”

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

The kitchen was standing room only as everybody wanted to hear the blow-by-blow account of what happened with the helicopter and the Dust Devils. People watched Brandon and Cami eat leftover Shepherd’s Pie and salad while he told the tale.

Cami smiled at the whoops and hollers that went up when Brandon described shooting the gas tank.

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