Page 52 of Brage & Dinah

Brage scoffed. "That's the night I eat at the bar."

"That was rude." Dinah picked up a fork.

"He's telling the truth," whispered Heather, laughing softly. "I hate cooking. All the guys know when it's my turn, they can expect a Sloppy Joe type meal. If it can go on a hamburger bun, I'm golden."

Dinah lifted a piece of bread off her plate. "Who baked the salmon?"

"Nita. She's also the one who makes the tacos on Fridays." Heather wiped her hands off on her jeans. "I better go change into my uniform. I'll see you at work."

"See you," said Dinah.

He took Dinah out to a table, then left her to eat while he checked in with Peer and Holly. In such a short amount of time, it was natural to see Peer with the baby cradled against his chest. He hadn't yet figured out how to multitask with a kid in his arms, but he was taking care of the most important thing in his life.

Going by the cries during the night, Brage would bet his share of the Slag pot that the baby hadn't slept more than twenty minutes at a time in the crib the guys slapped together upstairs.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked Peer.

"I'm too wired." Peer patted the baby's butt. "When I do get him down, I've spent my time trying to track down Kelli. Her parents haven't heard from her, and she never returned to the Seattle Chapter. I've got Elling working on it now."

"You'll find her." He held out his hands. "Give me your son and go shower. You've got less than an hour before you have to work."

Peer handed his kid over and left the room without arguing. Nita, seeing a break when it came, promised to be back in ten minutes.

Brage held the squirming bundle against his chest and walked around the room to soothe him. "Hey, little warrior."

The baby rooted against the leather of Brage's vest. He walked over to the display case, holding pictures of current and past members. Swaying from side to side, he hummed, calming the baby.

Everything about his heritage was contained behind the glass. Pictures of his parents in Norway, their arms wound around other Slag members. Karl, the president of Slag Norway, and his family. Multi-generations from numerous families, all of Nordic descent, dedicated to living their life together.

The baby's legs curled against Brage's chest. He sang low. A childhood song, he remembered his mother singing to him and his sisters when he was little.

It'd been a while since he'd felt like singing. The dangers surrounding the club hadn't allowed him to party like the other members.

Peer's baby quieted the longer he sang. He started the song over, feeling successful at calming the child. A little bitty thing, he would grow up to be a proud man. An honorable man.

After the fourth time through the lyrics, he started again and turned to walk back to the table and found Dinah standing a few feet away staring at him.

Not wanting to wake the child, he sang quieter.

Dinah's eyes welled up, and she walked away from him. He watched her go to the door and push her way outside. Something was wrong.

Needing to go after her, he took the baby to Nita, who'd returned to the table.

Once outside, he found Dinah walking down the alley. He jogged toward her, finally catching up to her before she reached the gate.

"Hey, hey, hey..." He stepped in front of her. "What happened?"

Imagining the worst, he held on to her, afraid she'd try and walk out the gate. She was obviously running from something that upset her.

She swiped at her cheek and looked up into the sky. "I've heard that song."

"Song?"

"The one you were singing to the baby." She scrunched her nose. "Not the words, the tune."

Ah, he'd sung in his native tongue. She wouldn't have recognized the words.

"Ja. It's a children's song. Baa Baa Black Sheep." He brought her face toward him. "Why are you upset?"

---