Page 13 of Step Daddy

Kit shrugged. “I can just tell. And anyway, isn’t it the same thing with me? Why would you want to protect me at all costs?”

Gareth chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose my intuition regarding you is the same as yours is about me.”

Kit’s smile grew. “Besides, we’re brothers, right? We’re supposed to stick by each other.”

And…boom.

Gareth was back to being mortified by his filthy thoughts about his brother.

“Yeah. Of course.” Jesus. We need to get out of here. “I’m going to run in and grab a shower. Then as soon as you’re ready, we can go.”

Gareth didn’t wait for Kit’s response. He couldn’t leave the living room fast enough.

* * * *

Kit sipped on a cup of the surprisingly good coffee in the run-down diner, Gareth next to him doing the same thing. Gareth’s friend hadn’t arrived yet, and for the past ten minutes since they’d occupied the circular booth in the back of the restaurant, there’d been plenty of awkward silences. The drive over in Gareth’s flatbed truck hadn’t been much better.

Kit fiddled with one of the disposable creamer cups as he tried to come up with something to say. Had he done something wrong? What he probably needed to do was quit worrying about every little thing he said or did around Gareth. His brother already made it clear he wanted to help and was glad Kit was here. Kit began stacking the creamer cups. Maybe his insecurity about their renewed relationship was related to all the inappropriate thoughts he kept having about the man he’d always considered a brother.

He couldn’t imagine how disgusted Gareth would be if he found out.

“Oh hey. There’s Devon.”

Gareth waved enthusiastically, almost sounding relieved. Based on how unsure they’d been around each other since leaving the condo, Kit didn’t doubt that was the case. As soon as Devon arrived at the booth, Gareth stood up and gave him a hearty bro hug, complete with back slapping and enthusiastic greetings.

The picture Kit imagined in his head about what Devon would look like was in stark contrast to the reality. Devon was shorter than Gareth by a lot. He couldn’t be more than five foot five and was also opposite in build. There were tight muscles in his arms, and he was clearly in athletic shape, but he wasn’t bulked up at all. He was also older than Gareth, but it was difficult to discern if it was by ten or as much as twenty years.

His deep bronze skin wasn’t natural, but more likely a product of being baked in the unforgiving sun over the course of many years. His almost white, surfer blond hair indicated he was probably naturally fair-skinned. Not a good combination when it came to UV rays. However, the damage to his skin went beyond what the sun had wrought.

As the two men continued to greet each other, Kit’s gaze traveled over the deep scar running down one of Devon’s arms, the telltale dots on either side of the foot-long line indicating there had been plenty of stitches. In addition, what looked like a chunk of flesh had been taken out of his chin at one moment in time, the scruffy goatee doing nothing to mask the old injury. And a scar that was reminiscent of a knife fight intersected one cheek.

Kit wasn’t sure whether these were bike injuries, from time spent serving in the military or perhaps Devon got into a lot of bar brawls. Right as they turned their attention to him, Kit snapped his eyes back to his brother so he wouldn’t be caught staring. Although now he found himself searching Gareth’s face for signs of old wounds. Had Gareth been hurt while serving? What about riding? Had he ever crashed his bike, been hospitalized?

Now he was distracted by the image of Gareth in the towel. He’d been so shocked at seeing his half-nude brother, whether or not his skin was marred hadn’t entered his mind. Not only had Gareth’s finely sculpted body stolen his breath, he’d been captured by how his features had sharpened with age. Gareth had always given off an intense and brooding James Dean aura, although his appearance was less feminine. When Kit had first begun following Gareth’s career, he’d noticed the change. But in person, Gareth was even more striking.

A flash of confusion crossed Gareth’s face as if he could tell Kit was questioning something before he recovered with a grin. “Kit, I’d like you to meet my buddy and the biggest bad-ass in motocross. Dev, this is Kit, my brother…” He coughed into his fist. “Stepbrother. He’s going to be staying with me a while.”

I am? Kit smiled and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

They hadn’t discussed anything yet regarding the length of his stay. But he couldn’t deny that Gareth’s words filled him with relief. He’d already been stressing out about where he’d end up next. At least now it sounded as if he had time to figure it all out.

“Hey, kiddo. Great to meet you!” Dev gave his hand a vigorous shake, his strength surprising. “Gareth’s mentioned you a few times before, but I never thought I’d get to see you in the flesh.”

Kit let out a shaky laugh, suddenly uncomfortable under Dev’s appraising stare and how he’d gripped Kit’s hand a little longer than necessary.

“Oh, really? I didn’t realize Gareth told anyone about me.”

Kit didn’t miss Gareth’s glare at his friend or how he clasped his shoulder in a clear message to let go and move aside. Dev chuckled and gave Gareth a little shrug, but took a seat at the opposite end of the booth. Gareth dropped onto the seat next to Kit.

Kit had no idea why he’d made the assumption that Gareth was the only gay man in all of motocross, but for some reason he had. Perhaps he’d been ingrained with too many stereotypes from Ted. He’d have to start paying extra attention to his assumptions about people and the world around him.

Dev kept staring at Kit with an inquisitive gaze and amused smile. The tension was worse than it had been before his arrival. Gareth loudly cleared his throat.

“How about we order, buddy?”

Dev barked out a laugh. “Okay, okay. I keep forgetting how protective you are. I just assumed it was a trait you reserved for your boys.”

Kit tensed as Gareth kicked Dev under the table and held up his hands palms up as if he were saying ‘what the fuck?’. For reasons he couldn’t identify, Kit’s face heated. There hadn’t been anything overtly sexual or personal about the remark, it had only been odd to Kit’s ears. At least he didn’t think there was anything sexual. Maybe it was something gay men said to each other, had some hidden meaning that his uninformed, pathetic ass didn’t understand.

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