Dr. Hot Stuff - Tawna Fenske Page 0,46
at him like the baby is his own flesh and blood. His attention’s fixed on my nephew, which gives me a moment to stare as he sings what sounds like a baby-talk rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.”
So this is what happens at guys’ night.
“Hey, Izzy.” Jonathan’s voice pulls me from my trance, and I do my best to drag my eyes off Bradley to where Jon sits grinning at the other end of the table. “You here to whoop our asses at Texas Hold ‘Em?”
Mark frowns beside him. “No swearing in front of the baby.” His gaze skims his nephew’s slumbering form and softens before swinging to the archway between the table and the living room. He stares at someone standing behind my shoulder. “You found him.”
I look over and freeze. Dante looms at the threshold of the room holding a brown and white bunny. Countless times I’ve seen Long Long Peter in the arms of my siblings, but never like this. Never with a bald, scowling killer cradling him like an infant.
“Damn nice rabbit,” Dante murmurs with undisguised reverence.
I wait for Mark to jump on Dante about cursing, but he holds his tongue. Maybe anyone who looks this blissed out over a bunny gets a free pass. I don’t know.
All I know is that when I glance at Bradley, he’s not smiling. “Hey, Iz. You’re here to steal my little friend away?”
“Wait, not yet.” Sean scoops the infant from his arms, earning a soft whimper from Brian. “I haven’t gotten my turn.”
Austin shakes his head and gives me a bemused look. “Here’s what you can look forward to someday, Izzy—the instant you procreate, your spawn becomes the most popular person in the room.”
Everyone chuckles except Jonathan, who shoots me a worried look. I know what my kidney donor is thinking since we sat through many of the transplant consults together. “It’s okay,” I murmur as heat floods my cheeks. “The doctors seem confident my equipment is still in working order.”
I watch Bradley’s brow furrow as his face transforms into a look I recognize as his doctor mask. “You’re past the one-year mark. If your doctors say your kidney function is stable, there’s no reason they couldn’t switch up your meds if you wanted to get pregnant somewhere down the line.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Dante stiffen. “Who’s getting pregnant?”
“No one!” I hate how fierce the declaration sounds coming out of my mouth, but I can’t stop now. “Well, Chelsea’s pregnant. That’s Mark’s wife. And with all these marriages, I’m certain it’s a matter of time until all your wives are expecting.”
I’m trying to deflect attention, and thank God James takes the bait. “Not me,” he says as he shuffles the deck of cards. “Lily’s adamant about maintaining our childless-by-choice lifestyle.”
Mark scrubs a hand over his beard. “You’re cool with that?”
“Absolutely,” James says. “Not like there’s going to be any shortage of children around here.”
Sean grins and rocks Brian in his arms. “Just means you have more free time for babysitting.”
Speaking of which, I should do what I came here to do. I step in to ask for the baby at the same moment Dante makes his own move forward. The result brings the two of us toe to toe at the edge of Mark’s dining room.
Dante stares me down, blue eyes cold. “No.”
I blink but manage not to step back. “No what?”
“You can’t have a turn with the rabbit.” He looks down, stroking Long Long Peter with one blunt finger. “Not yet.”
“Aw, shit.” Sean laughs and blows a raspberry on Brian’s cheek, making the baby giggle. “You’re never getting your bunny back, Mark.”
My brother scowls. “Don’t swear when you’re holding a baby.”
I stare at Dante, not sure if his protectiveness of Long Long Peter is a coded threat or a genuine fondness for the rabbit. Call me crazy, but I swear there’s more warmth in his eyes than I’ve seen the entire time I’ve known him. Ignoring me, Dante runs a hand down the bunny’s back, relishing the softness of his fur.
“So, Dan.” Austin clears his throat. “I understand you’re also from Dovlano.”
Bradley sits up straighter and gives me a look I can’t read. He shakes his head once, a gesture I assume means he didn’t tell the others what I told him. If my brothers know he’s a bodyguard, they didn’t learn it from Bradley.
Dante gives a curt nod. “Correct.”
There’s a long stretch of silence, which American custom dictates should be filled with elaboration.