“Oh. You’re a member of the Fury, too.” Jeez, everyone at the shop was. She had no idea.
The other side of his mouth pulled up into a blinding smile. “Yeah.”
Jemma heard a loud grunt right behind her and she rolled her eyes at the caveman claim.
“Anyway,” Reilly shouted to get everyone’s attention back on her. “A rusty piece of shit was sitting a half block down. After we passed it, it pulled away. It would’ve driven right by the garage.”
“Those motherfuckers occasionally come into town to hit a store. They ain’t supposed to even talk or look at our women,” Rev said, moving closer to Reilly until they were almost touching. Almost as if he was her personal protector.
Just like Cage was doing with Jemma. Hovering so closely behind her, she could practically feel his heat and his breath.
“How would they know we’re your women?” They weren’t ol’ ladies, they weren’t wearing “property of” cuts. Nothing Reilly or Jemma wore would tie them to the club.
“They would know now since we were seen leaving and returning to the garage,” Reilly surmised.
Jemma was momentarily distracted when Rev’s hand curled around Reilly’s hip, almost as if to reassure her. She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Rook’s head snapped up and he scowled at that hand until Rev removed it.
Whip, unaware of the unspoken exchange between his brothers, said, “But they could just be customers leavin’ their car here and, instead of waitin’, headin’ to Dino’s to get grub. Happens all the time.”
“Could be.” Dutch grumbled, tugging on his long salt-and-pepper beard. “Ain’t likin’ the fact they were parked nearby. If they come to town they need to get where their goin’ and get the fuck back up that mountain. We ain’t gonna tolerate them loiterin’ or stalkin’ our women.”
“We’re not your women,” Jemma reminded him.
“The fuck you ain’t,” the old man grumbled with a scowl almost identical to Rook’s.
“Maybe it wasn’t us they were watching,” Jemma suggested.
“Right. That’s what I’m fucking saying! It could be your garage, Dutch,” Reilly exclaimed, sounding exasperated.
“Gonna give Trip and Judge the head’s up,” Cage said behind her. “If they’re watchin’, we need to know. Need to prepare. Wish we had more prospects besides Tweedle-Dumbass and Twattle-Dumbfuck to shadow the women ‘til we know what the fuck’s goin’ on or can confirm it was them sittin’ and watchin’.”
“Most of the time they’re covered,” Rev said. “Reilly’s with us during the day and with Ozzy at night at the inn. Stella’s with Dodge and the prospects at Pete’s. Cassie’s with Shade and Easy during the day at the pet crematorium. Reese...”
“Yeah. Reese. Saylor’s alone at the house durin’ the day with Daisy. And,” Rook glanced over Jemma’s shoulder, she assumed at Cage behind her. “Jem’s at the trailer durin’ the day with Dyna. Got two prospects, three women not covered.”
“Those prospects are needed at the bar,” Cage reminded his brother. “Stel will have a fit if we leave her shorthanded.”
“Yeah,” Dutch mumbled, tugging on his beard some more like it helped him think. “Let Trip, Sig and Judge figure it the fuck out. They ain’t gonna want us makin’ those decisions without ‘em.”
“Sig’s gonna fuckin’ flip,” Whip said.
“He ain’t the only one,” Rev added.
“We don’t even know if it was them and what the fuck they were doin’,” Dutch reminded them all. “Coulda been nothin’ and the girls are just imaginin’ shit. Always gotta cause drama.”
Jemma took a huge inhale to address Dutch’s bullshit when a warm hand splayed along the small of her back, causing all the air to rush out of her. Cage started stroking her back the same way they did when Dyna was upset.
Son of a bitch, it fucking worked, too.
But his touch also caused what felt like an electrical current along her skin even with the blouse between them.
For fuck’s sake, this was why she’d been trying to avoid him as much as possible while living in close quarters.
She took a step to the side and broke the contact so she could breathe and think.
Reilly was staring, her mouth agape, her wide green eyes sliding back and forth between Cage and Jemma.
Fuck.
Jemma gave her a look that told her to keep her mouth shut and only hoped the woman got the message. The other woman’s surprise turned into a sly smile as she glanced around the rest of the circle to see if anyone else picked up on what she saw.
Jemma decided it was best to ignore it all. If she ignored it, it didn’t exist, right?
She wished.
What they couldn’t ignore was the flashy vehicle that pulled up next to the group and parked in front of one of the empty bays. A newer, bright yellow Mustang convertible with the top down.
A male with short dark hair twisted his head toward them, did a finger wiggle and yelled out, “Yoo hoo!”