Page 42 of Damien’s Mate

“In case what?” Brandon asked, his voice deceptively silky.

Brock shrugged. “In case this?” The two of them locked eyes. Brock wasn’t challenging Brandon, exactly. But there was definitely a little authority issue going on there.

“I called first,” Damien offered. “I called Brock, I mean. But I didn’t get an answer, and Lila’s really hurt. Not just from being hit by the car last night. She re-injured herself dropping from a balcony—”

Remy turned the bear guy, who Damien vaguely remembered from the night he’d met them. “See?” Remy said to him reproachfully. “You can hurt people doing that shit.”

Whatever that meant.

“It’s complicated,” Damien finished. “But maybe we should get her off the ground? It’s cold out here, and she’s not wearing fur anymore.”

Brandon ran his fingers through his hair and muttered, “I should have fucking stayed in bed.” Turning to the bear guy, he said, “Squatch, bring her into the house. Take her to the second floor guest suite, near mine and Kitty’s. Brock, you’ve had the most healing experience. Look her over more thoroughly when she gets up there, and see what she needs.”

“On it,” Brock said.

“I can take her up,” Damien said.

“You can barely walk,” Brandon snapped. “Squatch will carry her.”

“He’s naked,” Damien protested. He immediately felt stupid, but everything in him hated the idea of a naked giant carrying naked Lila to a bedroom.

Brandon gave an exaggerated sigh. “Squatch, don’t ravish Lila on the stairs.”

“I’ll try not to,” Squatch said gravely.

Damien had no idea if they were fucking with him.

He followed Squatch’s bare bear ass inside, trying not to look. He would have followed him upstairs, too, but Brandon blocked his way.

“Not you,” he said. “You’re staying down here, and I want the whole story of what happened to you, how the hell you ended up on my doorstep, and whether anyone’s coming after you.”

Damien watched Lila disappear around the turn of the staircase.

“Not negotiable,” Brandon growled.

“Fine,” Damien said. “But could you please put some pants on?”

Chapter 17

Brandon ushered Damien into a big open great room that made up the living/dining/kitchen area. It all looked newly remodeled. Brandon grabbed a pair of jeans that had been flung over the back of a dining-room chair, sniffed them, made a face, and put them on.

He indicated a raised swivel chair at the enormous kitchen island, and Damien perched himself on it, wondering how much to tell him. He was used to keeping everything close to the vest—he didn’t exactly run with people he could trust, most of the time.

And he had no intention of ratting out Lila.

Brandon swiveled around another chair, straddling it and resting his arms on the back of it. Interesting, that he didn’t seem to feel the need to stay in a dominant position.

He soon found out why. Brandon could probably exude confidence and authority from a fetal position.

He growled, “It’s late, I’m tired, and you dragged me out of bed at an extremely inconvenient time.”

Jaeda wandered in and opened a cupboard. “He and Kitty were probably boinking,” she clarified.

Remy had followed her inside. “Uh oh,” he said. “When the coitus is interruptus, it makes Brandon’s testicles testy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Brandon said, without looking at them. He didn’t even really sound pissed off—more like it was something he said a lot.

Remy mouthed at Damien, See?