Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
“Will take your word for it. I prefer hot, tight pussy that doesn’t have hairy balls and a deep voice attached to it.”
“A dark room and some lube and you won’t be able to tell the fuckin’ difference.”
Cage faked a gag.
“How the fuck did you two come from my damn nuts?” Dutch grumbled, shaking his head. “Swear your momma took a couple loads in her snatch from someone else when I wasn’t lookin’.” He wandered out of the open bay door.
Cage followed his father as his old man headed toward Jemma’s Volvo parked next to his sled. She had the back hatch open and was removing the stroller and the rest of the baby paraphernalia.
Dutch practically pushed her out of the way, unfolded the stroller and set it up for her like he did it every day. Cage was impressed that his father was that good with that contraption. It had taken him a couple times and a few curses to figure it out.
“Where’s my grandbaby?”
“In the car seat, Dutch,” Jemma answered, her tone pretty much insinuating his father was a stupid ass.
Cage chuckled and opened the rear passenger door to the Volvo to see Dyna asleep in her seat. “There’s my little monkey girl,” he whispered.
It was fucking crazy. It had only been about four hours since he last saw her and he couldn’t believe how much he missed her. How much his heart swelled in his damn chest when he looked at his own daughter.
He wondered if Dutch had felt the same when he looked at him and Rook when they were babies.
He glanced at his grumpy old man. Nah.
He probably sat them out in the dirt with no diaper and gave them a stick and a rock to play with. To turn them into “real” men.
He unhooked the car seat from the base, carefully finagled it from the car, and carried it over to the stroller. He latched it in securely, all without waking the baby.
“She’s fuckin’ out,” he murmured.
“Yes, she’d been crying. As soon as I began driving, she was out. Keep that in mind for the future if she won’t settle.”
The future.
For when Jemma was gone.
His swollen heart deflated.
“That’s my Duchess,” his father boasted after reading today’s onesie.
Some Grandpas play Bingo
My Grandpa rides Motorcycles
A cartoon drawing of an old man with a long beard riding a sled divided the two sentences.
If that didn’t gain brownie points with his old man, nothing would. Might be a good time to ask for a fucking raise. For his grandbaby’s sake.
As Dutch reached to unbuckle Dyna from the car seat, Jemma stopped him. “Wash your hands first, Pap-Pap.”
The old man grumbled, “A little dirt ain’t gonna hurt my Duchess. Build up her immune system.”
“And what medical journal did you read that in?” she asked with a dark eyebrow arched.
Cage didn’t bother to hide his grin.
“Bah!” The old man flapped a dirty hand at her and stalked back inside, grumbling the whole way.
Cage stepped closer, leaned over and brushed a kiss over Dyna’s forehead. When he straightened, he tipped his head down and stared into Jemma’s face.
Neither said a word for a few long seconds. Probably because they were both reliving what happened in the bathroom this morning.
The thought of how that could’ve ended differently woke up his dick. He also didn’t miss her pupils dilate and her lips part the slightest bit.
Fuck yeah, she might be thinking the same thing.
He was surprised she came to the shop. He figured she’d want to avoid him like she’d been doing most of the time since the night it rained.
But here she stood, with her long brown hair sweeping around her bare shoulders, looking hot as fuck in black shorts that rode high on the soft thighs he wanted to feel gripping his hips. Sandals that showed off red-painted toes he wanted to suck. A sleeveless, blood red button-down blouse that emphasized her generous cleavage and showed way too fucking much of that soft flesh. She wore a little bit of makeup, but his eyes were drawn to her lips that matched her shirt. She was wearing fucking bright red lipstick. In the middle of the fucking day like she was ready to go to a bar or something.
What. The. Fuck.
“You trollin’ for random?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, here at the garage. Maybe you can watch your kid while Rook pins me down over the hood of a car and fucks me silly.”
He sucked in a deep breath to keep the grenade in his belly from exploding. She was fucking with him, but it didn’t matter. The thought of his asshole brother nailing Jemma made his blood pressure soar.
He unclenched his jaw. “That what you want? He ain’t so random.”
“I don’t have to live with him.”