Page 38 of Black Heart

“What?”

“I, uh,” Tristan cleared his throat, “might have done something to, um, piss her off enough to come here and kick my ass.”

“I think I should sit down for this,” Shayne said as he pushed away from the wall and made his way over to the kitchen table and dropped down in a chair before gesturing for Tristan to continue.

“Do you think she’ll want Chinese?” Tristan asked, dropping the pizza menu and-

“Lad,” that one word was laced with warning, a tone that always worked on Tristan. Where his natural father hadn’t given a flying fuck about him, he had three men who’d eagerly taken over the job.

Tom, his real dad as far as he was concerned, was protective. He was the first man to earn his trust. He’d taught him how to fish, ride a bike, and everything and anything about the medical field while teaching him how to be a good man.

Hank had immediately taken Tristan under his wing and quickly became one of his best friends. He’d taught Tristan how to protect himself and when it was appropriate to throw a punch and when to walk away. He’d always introduced Tristan as his boy and when Tom was around, he referred to him as “our” boy, earning a few curious looks.

Shayne was the overprotective one.

When Tristan broke his arm during a football game, Shayne ran around the field screaming like a banshee while Tristan was loaded into an ambulance. It was also Shayne, who, for the next two weeks, haunted the linebacker who’d broken his arm. He was fiercely protective, but he also called Tristan out on his bullshit, like now.

“What. Did. Ye. Do?”

Shayne believed in treating a woman with respect even if she was a whore. Considering how much Shayne liked Marty, Tristan was going to be in deep shit when he found out what happened.

“I, uh, that is, we may have fooled around a bit after you left,” Tristan said quickly.

Shayne’s scowl swiftly turned into a grin. “Finally. It’s about time the two of ye stopped acting like idiots.”

After a moment, his happiness turned into confusion. “I don’t see how messing around would upset her…ye didn’t hurt her, did ye, lad?”

“No, but I may have inadvertently guaranteed that her date wasn’t going to, um,” Tristan cleared his throat, “want to take her out.”

“She had a date?” Shayne asked, sounding even more confused.

Tristan returned his gaze to a menu and nodded.

“I don’t understand. What did ye do? Did ye wait around and explain to the other lad that ye were in love with Marty?” Shayne asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, what the hell did ye do, then?” Shayne demanded.

Tristan mumbled his response.

“I didn’t quite catch that, lad.”

“I marked her,” Tristan admitted.

For a moment, Shayne was too stunned to respond. “Ye marked her, lad? Like with a pen?”

“You could say that I laid my claim with a kiss,” Tristan admitted as he thought about just how good it felt to finally have Marty in his arms.

“Oh, ye sly bastard,” Shayne said, grinning. “I’d love to see the face of the poor bastard when he spotted that.”

“It would be pretty hard to miss,” Tristan said, chuckling when the doorbell echoed through the house.

“Showtime,” Tristan said with a satisfied sigh as he dropped the menu back in the drawer. That was followed by the sound of the doorbell being held down seconds before the pounding started, which, of course, was followed by…

“Open the goddamn door before I break it down!”

CHAPTER14

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