Blood & Bones: Rook (Blood Fury MC 7) - Page 83

Cujo did another round of barking at Lizzy’s feet.

“Why you here?” Rook asked Jet.

“I just needed a word.”

He frowned. “With who?”

Jet rolled her eyes.

“That’s okay. He’s all yours. Oz will be here in a few to pick me up.” Lizzy leaned in and kissed Rook’s cheek. “Thanks for squeezing my car in. Just text me when it’s done.”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Rook said with a cocked eyebrow, making it sound like they had a date or he was getting payment for the work in something other than currency.

“You know where to find me,” the blonde teased, pinched his cheek and slipped past Jet where she stood sandwiched between the bay door and the rear bumper of a black pickup truck. “Nice to finally meet you, Jet.”

“Same,” Jet answered, making room for her to get by. The whole time Cujo barked at Lizzy’s heels.

“Cujo, quit it!” Rook yelled.

The dog didn’t quit it, he only barked louder.

“Gonna eat that damn dog for dinner if he don’t shut the fuck up,” Dutch bellowed over the music.

Rook snapped his fingers at the Chihuahua. “Shut it, asshole, before my old man fries you up and dips you in ketchup.”

Nearby, Whip made a gagging sound.

Once Lizzy left the garage, the dog came trotting back like he was proud of himself for ridding the garage of some perceived threat.

“Got five seconds to say whatcha need to say.”

Jet glanced down and saw Cujo sniffing at her boot. She slowly squatted down again, not making any sudden moves. When he didn’t scurry away in a frenzy of barking, she moved her hand closer, tucking her fingers so she didn’t lose the tips.

The dog’s tiny cold nose bounced off her skin. Then again.

“Aren’t you sweet?” Jet cooed.

“He ain’t sweet. Say whatcha gotta say, Jet, and get out.”

“Nice way to treat your customers.”

“You here for a problem with your Toyota?”

“No.”

“You here to drop off one of the pig mobiles?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then right now you ain’t a customer.”

She could feel the dog tremble as he allowed Jet to slide her fingers over the apple-shape of his head. Carefully, she scooped him up and stood, holding Cujo to her chest.

The dog didn’t freak, he didn’t look pissed. He seemed content to be held. Even nuzzled her hand a little just like Rook did with Lizzy.

Huh.

“Aren’t you the sweetest?” she said again, ignoring the shocked look on Rook’s face.

“Holy shit,” came from Whip.

“Is she holdin’ that little fucker?” Cage asked. “Without bein’ ripped up?”

Dutch was now standing next to his youngest son, also staring at Jet holding Cujo. Both looked dumbfounded.

“What?” Jet asked, wondering what the big deal was.

“What?” Reilly exclaimed from behind her. “No one but Rook’s been able to handle that dog. Not one of us, no matter how much we try. He growls and barks and snaps at us like he’s possessed. You walk in and within minutes you’re cuddling him against your chest.”

“Maybe he’s not possessed, maybe he’s just picky.”

“Can’t be that picky if he picked Rook,” Reilly said with a snort.

“Maybe he’s just misunderstood,” Jet said softly, petting Cujo’s little snout and ears. He released a little groan and nudged her hand to pet him some more.

Dutch barked out a laugh, shook his head and went back to whatever he’d been working on.

Cage disappeared back under the hood of the Ford. Whip, Rev and Reilly now were the only ones within earshot.

“By the way, stud muffin, better not let Ozzy catch you pawing his woman,” Reilly warned.

“She ain’t his woman,” Rook growled.

“Close enough,” Reilly chirped and walked back to the office with a sly grin.

“She belongs to all of us,” Rook shouted at her back. “Unlike you, who somehow gets a free ride without puttin’ out at all.”

Reilly shot him the bird over her shoulder and disappeared.

“Real fuckin’ nice, asshole,” Rev growled, shaking his head and heading over to a Nissan on a lift in the second bay.

Jet continued to stroke the dogs head as she turned her attention back to Rook. “What does that mean?”

“What?”

“The whole ‘she belongs to all of us’ thing.”

“Couldn’t stay away?” he asked, avoiding an explanation.

“I could. Believe it or not, you’re not that irresistible.”

Whip snorted nearby.

Rook’s jaw shifted and he shot a scowl at the younger mechanic, grabbed Jet’s arm and propelled her toward the office. All eyes followed their path.

When they reached the office, he pushed her inside and ordered, “Out, Reilly.”

“It’s my office!”

“The fuck it is. Out!”

“You’re such an asshole,” she grumbled, pushing past them both.

Cujo gave a single bark at the younger woman as she did and Jet gave the dog a reassuring squeeze.

Rook slammed the office door shut and spun on her. “Why the fuck are you here? You tryin’ to cause shit for me?”

“No, if you would’ve given me a chance to talk out there,” she tilted her head toward the garage bays, “they all would’ve known why I was here and it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Now you made it seem like a big deal.”

Tags: Jeanne St. James Blood Fury MC Romance
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