Hunter wrinkled his brow and then laughed, his head tossing in a particularly fetching way. “Wrong one.”
Shite, it was Forrest. “Well, still stands. You’re trouble too.”
He brushed by me and another blond followed him, a tad older, but every bit as attractive. There was something about them that matched, so I thought maybe it was more of Hunter’s family.
“My lucky day. To what do I owe the pleasure, lovelies? My wee devil’s gone missing at the moment,” I grumbled.
“No shit, Sherlock. We’re looking for him,” the blond I didn’t know sniped, and then narrowed his eyes on me. “Are you bleeding?” Before I had an inkling of what was happening, he had my head in both of his firm hands, poking at me in a way that hurt like a pitchfork.
“What are ya—” I tried to shove him off, but he was persistent, and I finally relented with a huff. He parted my hair and grumbled under his breath.
“Hold still,” he said, and it was the kind of tone I knew I’d better just listen to orelse—reminded me of my ma—so I stood there, scowling at Forrest, who wasn’t outright laughing, although his eyes were.
“This is my uncle, Grant.” He tipped his head at my abuser.
“Uncle. All me uncles got great gobs of gray hair growin’ out of their ears.” I stuck my own finger in mine as if to check, just to see him smile, and it worked. He covered his mouth with his hand, but his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I’m lucky.” Forrest tilted his head. “Who smashed you?”
“An idiot who is going to die,” I replied, cheerfully as possible. I wasn’t making threats. It was a when, not an if, for David Nunzio going to an early grave.
“Hmm…. Do you happen to know where Hunter is?” Grant asked. I twisted my head around enough to eye him suspiciously, half convinced that Forrest was pulling my leg about the uncle business, but they did look more than a bit alike.
“Just woke up. Figure he’s gone to check in with his brother… except you’re here.” I glanced toward Forrest. “What’s going on?”
“Hunter took off with a few of his club brothers, wethink,” Grant murmured, and brushed his fingers along my head, feeling down the back of my skull where it thankfully didn’t hurt much. He danced his touch along the bottom ridge of my head, and I swear he ran his fingers through my curls once, just to do it, like he was petting a dog.
“Ya think or know?”
Forrest let out an irritated hiss. “Sam on the front desk saw them leave with that guy who follows you around.”
“Corbin? Get off. That’s too much,” I said when Grant poked at a particularly sensitive spot on my noggin. I stood up, and he was incredibly unimpressed by me when I crossed my arms and attempted to loom over him. He brushed his hand over the bruise on my side and sighed.
“You could use a stitch or two,” he mumbled.
“Nah.”
“Yeah.” His eyebrows furrowed, and I wondered for a second if all the men in their family looked sweeter that way, all befuddled-like.
“Nah.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his big brown eyes in my direction. “I have enough stubborn asses who don’t want to listen to me at home. I don’t need them on vacation too. It’s you who will have to deal with it if you get an infection because that wound is open longer than it needs to be,” he snapped and stepped back from me. He popped his hands on his hips.
“Fine, but not now.”
“Mm-hmm.” He pursed his lips.
“Weren’t ya here looking for Hunter? I’m curious now too.” I went over to the dresser and grabbed out a pair of boxers, some jeans, and a Henley. I stood right there and dressed. I didn’t give a rat’s arse who saw me naked, and the more I thought about it, the more I began to worry. “Anyone try callin’ Hunter?”
“He’s known for not answering his phone when he’s not in the mood,” Grant said with a small smile. “He takes after his father that way.”
“Unfortunate,” I grumbled, and they both laughed. I wasted no time and tried Corbin, but got nothing there, and that had me even more concerned.
“Shite. He left with big biker blokes and Corbin?”
“That’s the word on the street,” Forrest said and brushed his fingernails against his shirt before looking at them. “Now that I’ve seen you, I happen to think that he might be off, uh….”
“Looking to take a slice out of whatever man took one out of your head,” Grant finished for him.
