Page 7 of Trained Royal
Patrick elbowed his side. “I could see he was wavering, and I offered him a lift.” He winked at him and wandered off.
“That true?” Brett raised his eyebrows.
“Not that I was wavering, but yes, to the lift.”
Brett gripped Kieren’s nape and guided him to where the group sat. He’d expected the security team to be separate from the royals, but he was pleasantly surprised to see them intermingled. Doing a quick tally in his head, there were roughly thirty people in attendance because each of the royals and their partners had individual security guards. There were a couple of people Kieren didn’t recognise, but he didn’t knowallthe royals, just the ones he interacted with regularly.
“What’re you drinking?”
Wasn’t that the question of the evening? He blew out a breath. “Beer?”
Brett laughed at his questioning tone and grabbed him an ice-cold bottle. “Sounds like you need it.”
“If all I’m going to get is your sass, boss, I’m going home,” he grumbled, lifting the bottle to his mouth. The bitter taste coated his tongue, and he grimaced, remembering why he didn’t often drink alcohol.
Brett laughed and held up his hands. “I’m off duty. No ‘boss’ here tonight.” He picked up a bottle of his own and gulped it down. “Ahh. That’s the stuff.”
“Are you not worried about what the royals think of us?” Kieren murmured.
Brett shook his head. “Other royals, maybe, but not this lot. We’re human. They’re human. We see them at their lowest and highest points, day in, day out.” He tilted his head. “These men are the cream of the crop. The men pointing us towards a decent future. If we can’t be ourselves around them, who can we?”
Brett clapped him on the shoulder and sank into a chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. Kieren didn’t miss the way his eyes darted around the space, though. He wasn’t the only one feeling like he needed to be working when that many royals got together.
Kieren settled into a chair beside Brett, getting comfortable. Everyone knew he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he’d bring himself out of his comfort zone for a short time. He needed a little more liquid courage first, though.
****
Chapter 3
Patrick
Patrick could see Kieren relaxing the longer he stayed at the barbecue, and it made him smile. Kieren might be a self-proclaimed social pariah, but when he allowed himself to join in, it wasn’t as visible as it might’ve otherwise been.
“What’s got you smiling, Paddy?” Douglas asked, dropping into the vacant seat beside him and tipping his bottle to his mouth. “Anything interesting?”
Patrick chuckled. “No, just remembering the last time we tried for a barbecue. The birthday party after-party wasn’t the success we hoped it’d be, was it?” It wasn’t the truth, but the memory had been close to the front of his mind several times since he’d arrived.
Douglas threw back his head and laughed loudly, garnering several gazes in their direction. “True. So true. How we made such a cock up of that, I’ll never know.”
“It might have had something to do with how drunk we all were.” Patrick finished his shandy and put the cup aside. He hated the taste of alcohol, but the lemonade mitigated the taste a little. It was only on rare occasions that he allowed himself to drink despite the taste, and his joint birthday party with George and Freddie had been one of those occasions.
“I can’t remember much of the following day, either. There was nothing in the media when I checked, and I’m taking that as a win for all of us,” Mav said, coming to stand behind his partner in crime and sliding his arms around his neck and down his chest until he rested his chin on Douglas’s shoulder.
“I can just imagine the headlines now,” Patrick said, holding his hands up and spreading them wide as he continued, “‘Royal heirs three sheets to the wind.’ Can you imagine the picture they’d get to go with it?”
They laughed, and a cup appeared in front of him. He jerked his head up to meet Kieren’s gaze.
“I saw you were empty.” He shrugged.
Patrick took the cup and smiled. “Thanks.”
“I have evidence of that night. I can use it as blackmail should I need to.” Kieren winked and strode off, leaving Douglas and Mav laughing hysterically while Patrick’s mouth gaped.
“Cheeky bugger,” he muttered, his mouth twitching to keep a smile from blooming on his face. It wasn’t often he saw the playful bodyguard appear instead of the serious one, but he relished it when he did.
“I dread to think how we all looked. Even Freddie was gone, and you know how little that happens,” Douglas said when he got his breath back.
Patrick’s stomach growled, and he pressed a hand against it. “Any idea when the food will be ready? I’ve not eaten yet.”
