Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC 5)

“Yeah. Both times.”

She thought about Judge and how Jen had gotten pregnant with Ry. Jemma doubted the Amish woman came with a condom or would even poke a hole in it to get pregnant on purpose, but that didn’t mean someone else hadn’t poked holes in Cage’s condoms.

And, if that happened, it was an evil thing to do.

“Do you think someone sabotaged your stash?”

“If someone did, I’ll fuckin’ kill them,” he growled. He strode through the trailer and into his bedroom, returning not a minute later with a baby blanket. He spread it out on the floor where both of them would be able to see Dyna. He came over, plucked the baby from her arms and placed her on her back in the center of the blanket that bore the Blood Fury colors.

Great. She wondered where that came from. It had to be new, as well as custom-made.

“Did you buy your own condoms?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy bedhead.

She caught him grimacing a few times while he did it.

She did her best to stay on topic and not let him distract her. In all the wrong ways. “There are plenty of reasons for condoms to fail. Did you use lube?” Using an oil-based lube on a latex condom could be one of those reasons.

Cage’s lips twitched. “Didn’t need lube.”

“Oh, okay, stud.” She rolled her eyes. “Was the condom too big, then?” She turned away to hide her smirk.

He snorted behind her. Close behind her. She hadn’t heard him move.

“You wanna check the fit for me?” came his low rumble.

She ignored the tingle that shot through her. “I’m a nurse. I’ve seen more penises in my lifetime than I ever wanted to. It takes a lot to impress me.”

“Seein’ them and experiencin’ them are two different things.”

That was for sure.

“How about you concentrate on the most important girl in your life right now instead of trying to get laid, which by the way, got you into this mess in the first place. Not that you should need a reminder. And... if you haven’t figured it out yet, she might put a kink in your dating game.”

“Don’t date,” he grumbled.

“Ah, you just prefer strange like your dad, then.”

He moved behind her and grabbed the items needed to make coffee from a cabinet. A beat-up coffeemaker was on the short counter next to the fridge. Jemma hoped it worked.

When she didn’t get an answer—even though she hoped to hear one—she got back on track. “Anyway, I bet you kept those condoms in your wallet, like most men.”

“Yeah,” he grunted, opening a can of cheap-ass coffee and scooping some into the filter. She mentally made a note to pick up some better quality coffee.

Caffeine would be very important to survival when it came to sleepless nights and late-night feedings. If she was going to drink a lot of it, she’d prefer it was rich and dark and not watered-down generic swill.

“You know keeping it in your wallet can break down a condom so it’s ineffective, right?”

He pushed the start button and spun on her. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

She shrugged. “Most men don’t know that. They tuck one or two in their wallet, but both sitting on it and your body heat breaks it down and could cause it to fail. Never keep it in your wallet.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Could’ve been that or could’ve been a simple leak. Plenty of reasons why one fails. Plus, it’s not a hundred percent effective.”

“’Specially when you’re with someone probably fertile as fuck.”

“Those Amish like having loads of kids,” Jemma agreed. She sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter how your baby girl came to be, she’s here and you’ve got no choice but to deal with it.”

Jemma pushed past him, wishing he’d put on a shirt, and opened the fridge. She peeked inside and grimaced. There wasn’t a goddamn thing inside but a six-pack. So much for breakfast. She closed it and turned to him. “What were you planning on eating this morning?”

Cage shrugged. “Hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

“Got food in the bunkhouse kitchen.”

“Then I suggest you march your ass over there, go ‘shopping’ and bring some back. You might not give a shit about eating, but I do. And if I’m going to live here, I need to eat. You don’t want to see me when I’m hangry.”

His lips twitched again. “Can’t be worse than Judge when he’s got a burr up his fuckin’ ass.”

“Oh no. I can be way worse. Trust me. We got our pleasant personalities from our father who loved to beat the snot out of someone or simply plug a hole in their noggin when he was pissed. He was worse than an angry Bruce Banner.”

“I remember him, Jem,” Cage said softly.

“Then you know how he got. You didn’t want him turning his anger on you. That’s me without good coffee and decent food.”