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First virgin he ever had. He decided right then and there Sarah would be the last. He would stick to women who knew about birth control. Like the sweet butts. They were all on some sort of birth control even though the brothers all wrapped it tight when they did shit with them. It was double protection.
It also kept his brothers from sharing more than just pussy with each other.
“You wanna strip his colors, then you strip his colors. That’ll teach ‘im,” Dutch grumbled. Just like his father, always so goddamn helpful.
He shot a frown at Dutch. “Sig didn’t get—”
Judge lifted one of his big paws. “You’re fuckin’ right. Sig didn’t get shit from us when he got caught with an Amish girl. I get it ain’t fair. We can right that wrong at the same fuckin’ time.”
“He did get shit when her brothers gave him that fuckin’ blanket party.” Trip glanced over his shoulder at his brother, Sig. Trip’s jaw got tight and a muscle jerked in his cheek. “He got his fuckin’ ass kicked. Just not by us.”
Their prez struggled with a bad fucking temper. He got it from his father, Buck, the former Blood Fury president. He did his best to keep it under control, but sometimes it got away from him.
Cage was worried this situation was going to be one of those times. Though, if it did, he fucking deserved it. He fucked up. No denying it.
He blew air through his nose, thinking how badly he needed to get stoned right now, and watched his father pick up the baby, put her against his shoulder and bounce her.
Cage frowned. “What’re you doin’ that for?”
One of Dutch’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Gotta burp the kid after it eats.”
Cage was impressed his father knew that much. “You did that with us?”
“Sometimes. Your momma couldn’t wait to take you two from her tit and hand you over to me if I was nearby. Like I said, the woman didn’t wanna be a mother. But she was good-lookin’ and could suck a knob off a door, so I got suckered in. Plus, her pussy was pretty fuckin’ tight ‘til you two destroyed it. Then I had to move to her ass.”
“Christ,” Rook muttered behind Cage, who tried not to reflect too deeply on his father’s words.
“What’re you gonna do ‘til you get the results?” Deacon asked, obviously trying to change the subject because no one wanted to picture Dutch having anal.
“He can stay with me,” his old man volunteered, “but only ‘til then. After that we’re figurin’ something else out ‘cause I’m not raisin’ another kid. Spoil? Yeah. Raise? Fuck no. He made Duchess, he deals with her.”
“Duchess?” Trip asked with a grimace.
“Yeah, that’s her name,” Dutch answered.
“The fuck it is,” Cage said.
“What’s her name?” Deacon asked, leaning over Dutch’s shoulder to peer at the baby.
“Ain’t got one yet,” Cage said. “If she’s mine, I’ll deal with it then.”
Deacon’s eyebrows pinned together. “What’re you gonna call her in the meantime?”
Cage shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Suppose not,” Trip said, frowning.
“Who’s gonna help you take care of her?” Deacon asked.
All these fucking questions he didn’t have answers to... But needed to figure out.
“Dunno. Yet.” He lifted his eyes to Judge, who scowled.
“No,” the big man said immediately. “Cassie ain’t helpin’ with your kid.”
“Not Cassie. Was thinkin’ Saylor.”
“That’s another big fuckin’ no.” Judge said. “She’s only eighteen and got her hands full with Daisy and takin’ care of the house. Not dumpin’ an infant on her, too.”
“Any suggestions?” he asked hopefully.
Cage watched Judge’s body expand and contract with the huge breath he took.
Shit, the big man was gearing up for something.
Could be good. Could be bad.
Deacon noticed his reaction, too. “Wait. You thinkin’ Mom?”
“Fuck no. Lottie’s too busy enjoyin’ retirement like she should be. Doin’ her woman shit. Like cruises with her girlfriends and playin’ cards, and whatever other shit she does. Not stickin’ her with a baby.”
“She might do it.”
“She ain’t doin’ it,” Judge told his cousin. “And if the baby’s his, we’re not talkin’ a week. We’re talkin’ years. Maybe even eighteen.”
Eighteen.
Holy fuck.
Judge wasn’t done. “Anyway, she’s gonna be busy bein’ a grandma if Cassie and I have one.”
“You thinkin’ about it?” Deacon asked, surprised.
“Jesus fuck,” Trip barked. “Can we get back on fuckin’ track? I got shit to do besides talkin’ about who’s knockin’ up who.”
“Yeah, so... Know someone who might be able to give asshole a hand temporarily with the kid since she’s between jobs.”
All eyes turned toward the club’s sergeant at arms and Cage held his breath. Judge didn’t look too excited about the option he was about to suggest. But Cage was game for anyone who knew what the fuck they were doing.
Or even someone who kind of knew what they were doing.
Anyone.
Because he sure didn’t.
And he didn’t need the DNA test to come back to know the baby now asleep in Dutch’s arms was his daughter.
