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Their futures were the picture of depressing. It’s not like he could stay…

What? Stay?

Shit, that was crazy thinking. Of course, he couldn’t stay. His life was in Arizona. His job. His club. His family. A man didn’t just leave an MC and move across the country for a woman. And he didn’t want to uproot. He loved his life in Arizona.

After Jazz returned with his coffee, his phone buzzed against the table.

The sight of the caller ID had his eyes widening. “Hello?”

“Well, well, well, fucker. You are alive. Striker had me convinced you’d tumbled down the side of a goddammed mountain.”

Shit, had the man known where Gumby’s disloyal thoughts had drifted? He pulled the cell from his ear and stared at it before returning to the conversation. “I’m sorry? I think you have the wrong number. Who are you looking for?”

“Fuck you.”

Gumby laughed. Damn, it was good to hear his brother’s voice. “Jester, how’s it going, man?”

A grunt came through the phone. “Huh, I’m surprised you remember my name.”

Gumby dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose above his glasses. “All right. Message received. I’ve been shit at keeping in touch.”

“Fuck, brother, you’ve all but up and disappeared.” Jester’s voice turned playful. “Guessing you found Jazmine and shit’s going real well. You gonna be able to convince that little pixie to get her sweet ass back here over the next week?”

A week? Not likely. Ever? Well, that wasn’t looking good either.

“That when Striker wants me back? A week?”

“Yep. I’ve been officially assigned the task of telling you you’ve got seven days to wrap your shit up and get the fuck back to Arizona.”

Fuck. “Look, Jest, there’s some shit going on here with the MC she’s hooked up with.”

“She’s attached to a club? What the hell? She someone’s ol’ lady?”

“No, no, nothing like that. She’s just gotten tight with a bunch of the ol’ ladies here. Manages a diner owned by one of ’em. She’s squarely under their protection.”

“Huh. And they got trouble?”

“Yeah, some shit with a rival club.” For a shameful second he almost entertained the thought of being grateful for the club drama. Gave him an excuse to stick around besides not being ready to stop fucking her.

And Screw.

“And you want to stick around until it’s cleared up?” Jester asked.

“Um, yeah I think it’s for the best.” He stirred the coffee, watching the liquid swirl around the mug.

“You don’t trust this club she’s hooked up with? Don’t think they can keep her safe?”

“What? Nah, that’s not it. I’ve been helping a bit. Running protection on Jazzy so they don’t have to. Helping with some car shit.”

With a chuckle Jester said, “Jazzy? The fuck?”

“Oh, uh, shit. Sorry. Someone started calling her that here and apparently it stuck. Guess it’s rubbed off on me.”

“Yeah, something’s rubbing on something, I’m sure. Or someone. You better not be getting too cozy out there in Tennessee, you hear me, fucker?”

Gumby stared at the table for a moment. Had he heard Jester right? Jesus the man really had been inside his head. Guilt slammed into him. “Fuck, no, brother. Don’t be fucking insane.”

Too cozy in Tennessee. With Jazz. And Screw.

He needed to shove those thoughts away. Now.

Yet… Jazz hovered behind the counter, laughing with a couple eating at the counter. Her smile lit her face, infectious and so gorgeous he found his mind drifting toward thoughts of seeing that smile more often. As in every day.

No. He shook his head, and if he’d been alone, he’d have given himself a sharp slap to the cheek. Damn Jester for watering the seeds of lunacy in his mind.

“Hey, you fucking listening?” Jester practically yelled into the phone.

“What? Yeah, sorry, I’m in a diner. Got loud for a second. Say it again,” he said without taking his attention off Jazz. She caught him staring and winked before disappearing into the kitchen.

Damn, she belonged right here.

“Said I’ll run it up the chain. Let you know what Shiv thinks about you kicking it out east a little longer.”

“Thanks, brother. Owe you one.”

“Ha, pretty sure you’ll be owing me quite a few before this shit is all said and done.”

The comment made no sense, but he had an odd feeling Jester wanted it that way. “Hey, before you go. How’s Em and that sweet kiddo she made?”

“Hey, I made half that kid!”

With a snort Gumby said, “That remains to be seen.”

Jester laughed. “They’re great, fuck you very much. Em is hot as ever and—”

Whatever else he said got lost in a buzzing in Gumby’s ears. A ripple of awareness coursed through him as though he’d picked up on some primal shift in the room’s energy field. Just as he was about to look over his shoulder, Screw slid into the booth opposite him.

Jesus, was he that in tune to the other man? So much that he walked into the diner and Gumby grew aware of it?

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