Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC 5)

Several groans rounded the circle.

The driver’s door was flung open and a tall, slender, very well-dressed man quickly joined the group and slid his dark sunglasses down his nose enough to peer over them at all the men. Jemma swore he licked his lips like he was thirsty. Parched, even.

“Look at this circle of handsome hunks. Mmm. Lord have mercy. I need to set myself right in the center. All you hard-working boys can certainly make a man’s toes curl.”

In those few seconds, Jemma was one hundred percent certain whoever he was, he was not straight. Not with the way he was eyeing up the men, even Dutch, like they were lollipops and he wanted to figure out how many licks it took to get to the center.

“Aren’t you married now, Teddy?” Cage asked dryly. Had he stepped behind Jemma even more, like she was a shield?

She was no one’s shield. She side-stepped again to let Cage fight his own battle.

“Why yes!” this Teddy exclaimed with an extraordinary amount of enthusiasm. “My Bryson Buck finally bit the bullet and put a ring on it. Haven’t you seen my ring?”

A couple of the guys groaned again as he flapped his hand with its long, well-manicured fingers toward the center of the circle. A wedding band on his left ring finger sparkled in the sunlight, just like the man wearing it. Not a Twilight’s Edward Cullen type of sparkle but more of a sun creating a colorful rainbow type.

Jemma was amazed at how the arrival of Teddy instantly derailed the dark and serious mood of the group.

“What do you need, Theodore?” Dutch grumbled.

Teddy leaned into Cage’s father and grabbed Dutch’s bushy beard at the top and slid his hand down the length and all the way to the older man’s belly, where it settled. “To sit on Santa’s lap and tell him how good I’ve been so far this year.” His fingers walked their way back up to Dutch’s barreled chest. “And you know it makes me feel like a naughty boy when you call me by my full name. I promise Santa, I’ve been good.” He did an exaggerated wink.

Dutch grinned at the man’s flirting, leaving Jemma speechless. The grumpy old grouch turned into someone she didn’t recognize.

She turned and bugged her eyes out at Cage. He simply closed his for a moment and shook his head. Jemma slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter at the change in Dutch.

She also had no idea why this man was calling Dutch Santa, but him doing so rattled a forgotten memory. Of her sitting on Santa’s lap. But not the same “Santa” that had a super hard lap and stinky breath.

She closed her eyes and pushed back any and all of those memories. She didn’t care if any were good. Drawing out the good ones also drew out the bad. They seemed to intertwine with each other no matter how hard she tried to separate them.

Cage touched her back again and her eyes popped open.

Christ, why did he have this effect on her?

“Don’t need your hubbie harrassin’ my ass,” Dutch was saying. “So, gotta keep it to business. What d’you need?”

“Wellllll,” Teddy announced loudly with a sharp single clap and a frown. He flapped a hand toward his Mustang. “I got screwed and not in a good way. Now I need plugged.” He grinned and wiggled his very on-point dark eyebrows.

“A screw or a nail?” Rev asked, not aware he was stepping right into the trap.

Teddy sidled up to him and batted his eyelashes at Rev. “Yes, please.” He waved his hand around between them. “Is there a difference? Is one rougher than the other? Tell me.” The last was whispered.

Rook sighed. “You know, Teddy, we don’t need Adam down here poundin’ on his uniformed chest like—”

“Like a jealous gorilla?”

“And causin’ problems ‘cause you’re a damn flirt,” Rook finished.

Sounded like Teddy’s husband might be one of the local cops, which, of course, with his past, Rook wouldn’t want to tangle with anyone wearing a badge. Cage mentioned he only got out of jail about a year and a half ago and managed to remain free of cuffs and bars since then. Which was a record for his brother, apparently.

But then being a part of the Fury now, if Rook got busted for something stupid, he’d have to deal with more than the law. He’d have to answer to the club’s executive committee.

Trip told Jemma he was determined to keep everyone out of jail or prison when they talked that night at Crazy Pete’s. He probably told her that to ease her fears about Judge and Deacon being a part of the club.

The club president could say that all he wanted, it didn’t mean he could have complete control over the situation. But him feeling so strongly about everyone staying out of trouble could mean the guys worked a little harder at not doing stupid shit that might land their asses behind bars.