Brannigan touched the scars for a moment, brows pulled together. “But you’re alright now?”
“Perfectly fine.”
He mulled this over for several seconds. “Which is why you wanted to return the favor, somehow?”
“What better way than by protecting his children? I keep an eye on your sister, too, you know. It’s just that Isabella doesn’t find as much trouble as you do.”
“That’s not the only reason why you were so fixated on me.” Brannigan sounded quite sure of this.
Snorting, Kyou tilted his head up to look the man in the eyes. “Those are all of the secrets you’re getting out of me this morning.”
“Booo. Spoilsport.” Leaning down, Brannigan kissed him on the nose. “Water’s getting cold. Let’s get out, find breakfast.”
Kyou was loath to break the moment even though Brannigan was right. The water was starting to become distinctly cold. He kissed the man for a moment, lingering. “Sleep with me tonight?”
“Count on it,” Brannigan promised, smile just this side of lecherous.
Come to think of it, that had probably been a stupid question.
Brannigan insisted on fixing them both breakfast, and since Kyou’s version of cooking was putting something into a microwave, that was fine. He didn’t settle at the computer just yet, although habit almost sent him that direction. He knew very well what he was like in front of a computer, and this morning wasn’t right for it. Not yet, anyway.
He’d meant what he’d told Brannigan last night. Kyou was not a good romantic partner. He was easily distracted by work and often didn’t pick up cues. With the other people he’d dated, it hadn’t really mattered, as he wasn’t invested in them to begin with. It was more the frustration of failing at something that had eaten at him. And the worry of never being good at it.
With Brannigan, it was different. Everything was different because Kyou was very much invested and absolutely unwilling to ruin them. He wanted more than anything to be with Brannigan.
So he didn’t go sit in front of his computer when they went downstairs. Instead, he settled at the table and watched his lover crack eggs and toast bread with easy competence. “Where did you learn your cooking skills, anyway?”
“Hmm, sort of a combination of places. The dishes I have a strict recipe for come from my mother. She’s a by-the-book person. My father’s the type to cook by instinct. So depending on what I’m making, I’ve either got a recipe card in front of me or I’m just throwing things in.” Brannigan shot him a warm smile over his shoulder. “You cook?”
“Not at all. It’s either microwavable food or takeout.”
“Doesn’t that get old, after a while?”
“It does. But it’s a matter of time and skill. I don’t have either. Cooking wasn’t something that I ever learned how to do in any of the foster homes I was in. And I’m not interested enough to learn how.” Trying to tease, he tacked on, “Much better to have a sexy boyfriend to be my personal chef.”
“And it is my pleasure,” Brannigan purred with a wink.
A little worried about how the rest of the day would go, Kyou glanced uncertainly towards his computer. “What will you be doing after breakfast?”
“Well, if you’ll set me up on a secure line, I figured I could work from here. I’ll touch base with people, too, make sure that no one does anything crazy.”
So he planned to work too. Relieved, Kyou nodded. “Sure.”
12
Brannigan
Brannigan was very aware of Kyou’s nerves. He shared them, a little, but he wasn’t deterred either. Kyou was obviously out of his depth when it came to forming a strong relationship. He was just as obviously determined to try, judging by his behavior last night and this morning. Take breakfast as an example. Brannigan knew very well that his lover probably ate every meal in front of the computer unless he was pulled away, so having Kyou voluntarily sit at the table with him over breakfast was heartwarming.
Nerves and fears had kept Kyou from reaching out to him all this time. Brannigan finally got the answer to that last night. And there was some basis for it, yes; it did neither of them any good if Brannigan swept that aside and ignored it. But every bit of Kyou was worth fighting for. The sweet way he’d responded every time Brannigan put his hands on him assured him of that. Kyou wanted this. Brannigan wanted this.
And there was nothing that a Genovese could not have when they put their mind to it.
Part of making this work was respecting Kyou’s time. He’d clearly said he needed to focus this morning, so Brannigan let him focus. He took his laptop and phone up to his bedroom on the second floor and worked from there, answering emails and responding to phone calls. Many, many phone calls. Mostly from family, who couldn’t seem to contain themselves.
It turned eleven, and Brannigan set the laptop aside with the thought of going down and starting lunch. Maybe coaxing Kyou away from the computer for a half hour and making out on the couch.
So of course, that was when his sister called.
Resigned, Brannigan answered the phone with a sigh. “Hello, Izzy.”
Isabella was clearly out, there was the overtone of wind in her words, but she was still audible. “Bran. What’s this I hear from Papà about you finally meeting K?”
“I take it he didn’t tell you everything.”
“I got some garbled account of you meeting K, the Irish Mob after you, and you being in a safe house somewhere in the city. It sounded like a bad spy movie and you were the damsel in distress for some reason. I’m not sure if he’s drunk or if I need to be.”
Snorting a laugh, Brannigan offered, “I can give you a five-minute head start if you want to find a bar.”
“Oh God. In other words, I need to be. Bran, what the hell did you do this time?”
He’d protest, but Brannigan didn’t know if he had a leg to stand on. “Well, you know the new development project I’m doing over in Roxbury?”
Isabella was many things, but slow on the uptake wasn’t one of them. A real estate developer herself, she had her finger squarely on Boston’s pulse, and she knew quite a bit of his business, as they talked openly about their projects with each other. “The neighborhood that’s basically Mob owned? That we tried to tell you was a bad idea? Yes, I’m well aware of it. What happened?”
“They got a little irate when I refused to back down. Then they tried to rough up some of my employees. K’s family—”
“Hold it. K has family?”
“Family of choice, yes. His family of choice includes an assassin, a thief, a mercenary, and a hacker in training. Oh, and a doctor who’s married to the thief.”
There was an audible hiccup as Isabella paused to visualize this. “So, in other words, he has a fully developed RPG party and can take out Mob bosses.”
“Pretty much. Which, um, they sort of did. When the O’Conner family came to scare off my construction crew, K’s family took them out. It riled up the O’Conners so much they put a hit out on me. My corpse is worth a cool million right now.”
Isabella whistled low. “Well shit, baby brother, that is not good. So, safe house?”