Page 6 of Triple the Danger

“I do but keeping it a secret from everyone. I’m about six months along, so still a bit to go. But the guys are praying for a boy.” She snickered. “They have a fear of girls around here.”

“Because you’re all fucking nuts,” a gruff voice announced, drawing their attention.

In walked a man that Saylor instinctively watched very carefully. Much like Fury, he stood at six-four and also had a goatee, but this man had an air of danger about him that was far more prominent. His coveralls declared him as Rogue, and she could see it. His eyes were a hard blue, with glitters of something wild and reckless that she’d seen in a few of the fighters back home. His hair was dark and cut shorter on the sides than the top. Everything about the man was big: his hands, muscles, and his broad chest and shoulders. He was good looking, but he gave off potent grumpy vibes. He was not someone you crossed. Ever.

Still, Esme clearly wasn’t afraid of him when she gave him a dry smile and replied, “More like it has something to do with a certain set of twins you’re hoping won’t have any more future minions to train now that Emerson and Eden are here.”

Rogue glared at her, then looked at Saylor, his glare easing only slightly. “Jax is looking at your car,” he told her. “But it’s going to need some major work. Probably be a week before we can get it done.”

Shit. That wasn’t good. Now what the hell was she going to do?

CHAPTER THREE

JAX

“She’s running from something,” Jax announced to Rogue and Razor as he looked over the engine. He wasn’t sure why he thought that exactly, but his gut told him that was the case.

“Not our problem,” Rogue grunted.

Jax ignored him. Rogue was a grump on a good day, but they all knew if this woman needed help, he would be stepping up along with the rest to keep her safe. Jax glanced at Razor when he asked, “What makes you say that?”

Razor was his best friend. The two of them became close after getting patched in as members of the club. He stood eye to eye with Jax at six feet, with thick, curly dark hair, and dark eyes. He also kept a well-maintained beard, while Jax preferred to keep his face fairly clean-shaven. Razor was considered the pretty boy out of the two of them, but since he had an Old Lady now, he never so much as looked in another woman’s direction. Though Jax figured that was because he knew better, because his woman, a former mercenary, was liable to make him hurt in unimaginable ways if he did.

“Just a vibe,” Jax told him with a shrug. “She’s got a bag, and I’m pretty sure there’s a Glock in her purse.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s running,” Rogue argued, still scowling. “Lots of women carry them.”

“Yeah, but Jax is normally right about this stuff,” Razor pointed out. “So, what, you want to play Prince Charming and save her?”

Jax flipped him off. “No, just noting it. As it is, we’re probably going to have to help her find a place to stay or something, because this car is on its last legs. Engine needs to be completely overhauled, and there’s some other shit that needs fixed too if she wants to make it further than a couple hundred miles.” He pulled back and wiped his hands on the rag he kept in his pocket.

“How long, you think?” Razor asked.

“At least a week,” Jax finally answered after some thought. “And that’s if I don’t work on any other jobs but this one.”

“Fine,” Rogue said. “I’ll tell Esme.” He stalked away toward the side door that led to the reception and waiting area.

Once Rogue was out of earshot, Razor turned to him and asked, “Is that week timeline true, or are you trying to keep her around and figure out what she’s running from?”

A small part of him wanted to tell Razor that he was right, but instead he shook his head and replied, “It’s going to be a week. It’s an old car, and they need more time to get it right. I don’t know her, so I don’t need her to stay.”

Razor didn’t look convinced, but thankfully he dropped it. “Alright, brother. Well, hopefully she’s willing to let you do the work, and doesn’t just junk it and find something else.”

He could admit the thought of her leaving and never seeing her again had a twinge going in his belly, but outwardly he just shrugged. “Be a shame to waste a good car, but it’s up to her. I know you’re deliriously happy with your crazy Old Lady, but the rest of us aren’t all that ready to settle down just yet.”

Razor got that sappy smile on his face that made Jax want to roll his eyes. So he did. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Razor informed him.

“I’m missing out on all that sap, so I’m good,” Jax replied drily. “I’m happy for you, brother, don’t get me wrong, but with so many couples and babies around here, it’s really cramping the style of the rest of us.”

Razor scoffed. “Brother, you say that like you don’t use the club whores every other day.”

“I think we’re supposed to use the term ‘club girls’ now,” Jax reminded him. “Glitch and Karissa made that point enough times. And while I enjoy the ease of having them here, I’m starting to get bored. Not to mention, with so many of you fuckers getting hooked up with Old Ladies, the club girls are starting to get real pushy about how they want to be considered for the role from the rest of us.”

Razor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because that’s what brothers want – for every other brother to know what their girl feels like. They know better, but whatever. No one but the stupid Prospects promise them that shit.”

Jax had to agree. But before he could reply, the sound of the door from reception filled the shop and they both looked over to see Rogue walking back through, with Saylor and Esme right behind him. He looked harassed, and like he wanted to be anywhere else, but was managing, barely, to bite his tongue. Looked like having an Old Lady and twin teenage girls was starting to rub off on him.

Jax looked straight to Saylor, taking her in and thinking again that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. And considering that all his brothers’ women were lookers, that was saying something. She was about five-six, with light blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and a few strands framing her face. Her full lips were currently pulled into a tight line, and her bright blue eyes held concern and irritation. She was a bit on the thinner side, but he could see lean muscles as she moved, and the tight jeans she wore showed off the slight swell of her hips. He normally preferred women with fuller figures, but this woman, she was reminding him that there were far more body types out there to appreciate. She still had her old bag slung over her shoulder. Did the woman ever put that down?

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