The snap in Booker’s voice had Kari shaking off his thoughts and focusing. “Sorry, say that again.”
There was a pause. “Is there something wrong, Kari? This ain’t you.”
He glanced out the window, not seeing the view beyond at hearing his brother’s concern. “I’ve had a lot on my plate. Bowie got assaulted by an ex, so I’ve been hanging with him because he was scared. I haven’t made a big deal of it because he doesn’t want that.” He went with a partial truth, not wanting to hurt his brother with lies.
“Who is the scumbag?”
Kari couldn’t help but feel a wealth of affection at the menace in Booker’s tone. His brother was all about supporting family. His own had disowned him when he had defended and saved Silas. The man’s integrity was ingrained deeply in his soul.
“It doesn’t matter now, it’s being dealt with. Dad has gotten his lawyers on the case to ensure the scumbag never gets out of jail.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“Go on, what do you need from me?”
After the call with Booker and sending him what he needed, Kari had gone into the heat calendar. What he’d found left him unsettled when the man currently pushing veggies around the plate like they’d magically disappear, had made no mention his heat was due to start in three days’ time.
Bowie glanced at his plate, sighing heavily. “Do I have to eat these?” He poked at the sprout that Kari had a love of like it could spring up and bite him.
No matter what was going on in Kari’s gut at the lack of answers, he chuckled at Bowie’s obvious dislike. “Do you want dessert?”
Bowie’s nose wrinkled, and he stabbed at the offending veggie to pop it into his mouth. Two chews and his throat worked to swallow the sprout, before he reached for his glass of juice and drank deep. The next sigh held a heap of gloom when he looked at the two remaining sprouts on his plate, placing his glass down with no enthusiasm.
Kari just couldn’t deal, so stabbed at one and ate it, getting rewarded with the cutest smile. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, now eat the last one, please.”
Bowie blew out a breath, stabbed his fork in it and this time didn’t bother to chew, just swallowed it whole, coughing and wincing, eyes watering as he brought up his glass to drain the remaining juice.
“All gone,” he said, once the glass was back on the table, looking mightily pleased with himself.
Kari rose, took their empty plates to the sink and grabbed the pastry box he’d had delivered from the bakery on the corner with Bowie’s favorite cupcakes. Placing them on the table, he opened the box to get a delightful squeal and a bouncing boy at seeing what was inside.
Offering the box so Bowie could pick, Kari considered how to start the conversation he’d wanted to have since discovering Bowie’s heat was due. “I had a conversation earlier with Booker, who brought up the heat calendar.”
Bowie visibly paled, and the red velvet cupcake he held plopped onto the table unnoticed, wide, surprised eyes darting to him. “Heat calendar?”
“Yes. I was interested enough to check it when something struck me.” His head tilted as his brows arched. “Do you have something to talk to me about?”
Kari held Bowie’s gaze and shook his head when Bowie went to look away. “Is it that difficult to talk to me?” he asked, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice when he thought they were past that stage.
“It’s not you. I… never… haven’t… not had a heat with anyone.” He looked relieved to have gotten the words out.
Kari wasn’t sure exactly what he was talking about. “You don’t use an omega club for your heat?” he questioned cautiously.
Bowie shook his head, his lower lip poking out.
“You usually do it alone with toys?” Kari surmised.
The color was back, only Bowie looked like he had been under a heat lamp, his eyes jumping all over the place. “No.”
Kari wore a frown, scratching the side of his jaw. “If you aren’t using a heat club or toys alone, what do you do instead?"
Bowie slumped, giving Kari a view of the top of his head.
“Hide,” came the mumbled response.
“Hide?” he questioned, getting a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach and an ache in his chest.
