Page 69 of The Biker's Brother

“Oh, well.” Cami felt a little embarrassed for not anticipating Daisy’s needs. “She didn’t come with an owner’s manual,you know.”

She instantly felt bad about copping an attitude with Rescue, but it was bad enough being awakened without arudeawakening.

When Daisy trotted over to him, he reached down and petted her, but his expression never changed.

“Leash.” Rescue was nothing if not succinct.

Cami was looking around for the leash, but Daisy beat her to it. She took the leash in her teeth and dragged it to Rescue, who fastened it on her collar. Cami had to wonder what else the dog knew.

She shut the door behind them, brushed her teeth, washed her face and put on the only clean shirt she had. She might have been tempted to stay where she was, but her stomach had other ideas.

There was no one in sight when she stepped out into the hall. The bartender, Rita, appeared to be washing glasses. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” replied Cami. “I was wondering if I could get some, ah, toast or something?”

“Sure. Go help yourself.”

“Okay.”

Cami made her way past the office. The door was open and Brant was on the phone. She continued toward the kitchen and found it empty.

There was a selection of fresh fruit by the sink, which seemed promising, and two enormous boxes of varied donuts on the table, which looked more like roll of fat lying in wait than yummy goodness.

It was a large industrial kitchen, built to make food for a lot of people at once. That meant that there were a lot of places where loaves of bread could hide. After opening and closing more than a dozen stainless steel cupboards she found the bread stash. Four loaves of white. One loaf of whole wheat.

She grabbed the whole wheat and plopped two slices into the high-speed six-slice toaster. While she was waiting she located peach jam, a saucer, a knife, a glass and orange juice. She could have sat down at the long center island table to eat alone, but she grabbed her breakfast and carried it out to the bar.

Rita seemed like a decent sort and she might learn more about the strange lifestyle of bikers.

“Can I join you?”

Rita turned around and smiled. “Well, sure. I don’t usually get company between breakfast and beer.”

Cami claimed a place at the far end of the bar near where Rita was working.

“Brand told me you may be wanting to get some stuff today since you had to shed your own things.”

Cami nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Rita scoffed. “It’s no trouble at all. Not like I’ll do it myself. I’ll hand it off to one of the prospects.”

“Prospects?”

Rita looked at her strangely. “You are a virgin, huh? Prospects are guys who want to be club members someday. First, they get a try out that lasts months, sometimes years. Their commitment and loyalty are tested.Severely.”

“Sounds like sorority rush.”

Rita laughed. “I don’t think so, honey.” Rita set down the towel she’d been using to dry glasses, squirted lotion onto her hands, and rubbed them together. “Now, while things are quiet,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “dish the dish on Brandon. What was it like to be with him nonstop for, what was it, three days?”

“Yeah. Three days. What do you mean?”

“Come on. I mean he’s a really desirable guy and you’re about to be an unmarried woman. So…”

Cami didn’t want to out Brandon if he was keeping brooms company, but surely he couldn’t hide his orientation from people who were this close to him.

“Nothing like that.” She shrugged. “Maybe he’s, you know, not into women.”

Rita gaped for a full five seconds before bursting into laughter. “That’s a good one. The boy is the definition of player. I guess he decided to keep it purely professional with you. Good for him. Business first. His dad would be proud about that.”