Page 27 of King's Barber
“And because of you,” I admitted. “You’re my son, and protecting Barber meant I could spend more time with you.”
“But youarebored.”
“With the job? Yes. Being here with you? Never.” I ruffled his red hair and smiled. “I love you.”
He cocked a grin at me, his cheeks flushing. “I love you, too, Pa.”
Dragging him into a hug, I kissed his temple. KC never got the love he needed from his real mother, and he deserved a family, so I’d given him one. Me. And I didn’t regret a second of the time I spent with him.
He shoved me with a laugh. “This touchy-feely crap is too much.”
I grinned at him as the bell rang. Glancing at the door, I heaved a sigh. “Be on your best behavior.”
“I always am.” He poked his tongue out at me. “Don’t do any hand grabsies under the table while I’m eating, all right?”
I rolled my eyes and gestured to the food. “Dish out dinner,” I said, before I strode toward the front door and opened it. Luke greeted me with a wide smile, mischief dancing in his eyes as he shoved a bottle of rum in my direction, and my attention went straight to what he was wearing. He actually looked presentable for once in a powder-blue shirt and black suspenders with silver buckles. His black pants melded with his thighs, not too tight to split, but a perfect fit. If my mouth watered at the sight of him in those clothes, I wouldn’t admit it.
“I was going to buy you some flowers, but you didn’t look like a flower kind of guy. So I bought you a drink instead.” He didn’t wait for me to respond, simply pushed his way past me and headed toward the kitchen. I rolled my eyes as I slammed the door shut and followed him. He was already in a conversation with KC about bikes by the time I got into the same room as them, and KCstillhadn’t put food onto the plates.
“She runs smoother than she did before you touched her. You’re a miracle worker, kid.”
KC stuck his chest out in pride and his grin could have broken his face, it was that wide. “Thanks, Barber. It didn’t take much. I gave her a complete checkup, and I don’t think you’ll have any more troubles anytime soon. I like bikes. My grandpa taught me how to work on them.”
“He a biker?” Luke leaned his elbows on the island, reaching out for the fork KC had abandoned and digging it into the rice and chicken before shoving the food into his mouth. I huffed, my gaze straying to the table I’d set out so nicely. Clearly that was for naught. I was surrounded by animals.
“Not like you, but he’s an outdoor kind of guy. Likes hunting and trucks. We got my uncle’s old Harley we’ve been working on since I met Grandpa, though.” His eyes danced with excitement as he went on to tell Luke all about the bike. I knew nothing about motorcycles, so all I could do was steal the food out from between them and dish it onto plates. Luke tried to steal another forkful, but I slapped his hand and glared.
“Eat at the table like civilized human beings,” I snapped, but he just laughed and nearly bounced to one of the chairs at the dining table, KC right behind him. Shaking my head, I grabbed a couple of cans of Coke out of the fridge to enjoy the rum with before I went back to the table, where the two of them had already begun to eat. It was no wonder they got along so well. They were like two peas in one pod.
I rolled my eyes as I sat down and passed a Coke to Luke. “Welcome to our home again, Luke.”
Luke grinned, flashing me straight white teeth as he took the can. He poured rum into the tumbler I’d already set out before dumping Coke into the glass, sloshing some over the edge and onto my nice tablecloth.
I winced but bit down on my tongue to stop myself from saying something scathing. KC gave me a knowing glance, his lips pressed together. They trembled like he was trying not to laugh. He ducked his head forward so I couldn’t see his face.
Luke took a big swallow of his drink before dropping it back onto the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah, that’s good. I’ve been drinking on and off all day, but nothing tastes better than alcohol while you have company, right?”
My insides burned hotter than the fires of hell, and it wasn’t out of need or passion. I was going to put a bullet into his head. No one would have to know. I could just tell his father I failed, and someone ended up killing him. My reputation wouldn’t take too much of a hit—it was my job to kill people, not protect them after all.
He grinned at me as though he knew exactly what was going through my mind. “You look fucking hot tonight, Quain.”
Laughter erupted from KC and his body shook so hard he nearly fell off his chair. I glared at him before I turned my ire to Luke. Forcing myself to smile, I said, “Thank you, Luke,” as politely as I could.
Luke glanced at KC, a bold grin on his lips. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to push me to my limits.
“How about we eat?” I gritted my teeth and grabbed my knife and fork, my fingers clenching around the stainless steel as I imagined shoving the blunt blade of my knife into his jugular. It wouldn’t be difficult; I’d killed people with less.
Luke and KC conversed some more about bikes as we ate the chicken and rice, but I didn’t miss the way Luke’s gaze kept coming back to me, staring longer than necessary.
I hated that even though he was the most frustrating man I’d ever met, a part of melikedhim watching me, which was irritating. Barber was an assignment, like every other one I’d taken on, but instead of killing him, I was protecting him. Sleeping with him was not an option.
He’d switched to straight rum a few drinks in and had been downing the alcohol faster than I would have thought humanly possible. He’d drank much more than what he’d eaten.
“What made you want to be a hairstylist?”
Luke’s question made me startle and I glanced from my food to him, frowning slightly. I thought back to my younger days when I was eighteen and getting my cosmetology certification. I’d been so excited about the prospect of cutting and dying hair when I was a young teenager. I’d always enjoyed doing my own. Then life changed unexpectedly, and falling into the assassin profession was completely accidental. I didn’t regret a moment of my past, though.
“I was always intrigued by hair,” I admitted truthfully, staring at him. He leaned forward, the interest clear in his gaze. Hewantedto know about me and this was something we shared. “When my mom was alive, she’d let me try hairstyles on her. I’d learn how to do them and then practice on her. When I was thirteen, I told her I wanted to be a hairstylist, and she supported me. Encouraged me, even. So that’s what I did.”
