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Jinx didn’t have any siblings to leave him a surprise child, not anymore, but he’d slept with more than his fair share of women. He was twenty-five, good with his dick, big, and in a motorcycle club. He couldn’t throw a stick without hitting a few ready and willing women.

Just how he liked it.

But he always wrapped his shit up. Ever since Lock became an overnight insta-dad, Jinx had been gun-shy when it came to getting his dick wet. Lock’s life went from good to shit in the blink of an eye. Jinx didn’t know what he’d do if a woman he’d banged showed up with his baby cooking in her belly. The fear was enough to keep him celibate for almost two months, which was unheard of for him.

He shuddered. Just the thought of all that responsibility had him sweating.

“So, how do we help him?” Tracker asked. “I know fuck all about kids.”

“Same here,” Ty added. He shivered. “I don’t even like ’em.”

Jinx grinned. He might be deathly afraid of ending up responsible for one, but he liked the little buggers. Kids were fun. They were loud, messy, and didn’t give two shits about anything beyond their toys and snacks. What wasn’t to like? He could hang as long as he could give them back at the end of the day. “I’ll get in touch with him before I head home. See what he needs from us.”

With a nod, Curly added, “The ladies have been helping him out as much as he’ll let them. He’s been cagy about them going to his place, but I think they’re working on a schedule to help him with babysitting so he can work and get some rest.”

“I suck with kids, but I’m happy to help any other way,” Ty said as he lifted a beer to his lips. “I’ll take him out, get him laid.”

Spec laughed. “Seriously, has the poor bastard gotten any ass since he became Daddy Lock?”

“That how you romance your woman?” Jinx asked with a laugh. “Yo, Liv, give me some ass.”

Spec flipped him off. “Hell no. Don’t gotta. My ol’ lady can’t keep her hands off my shit. But you can borrow the line. Ain’t seen you with a woman in a hot minute.”

“Ain’t seen you with a woman in a hot minute,” Jinx mocked in a childish voice.

“Ooh… gonna need some aloe for that burn.” Spec smirked. “I think the lack of sex is fucking with your sense of humor. You used to be funny.”

“You know what will be funny?” Jinx asked. “When I tell Liv you used her fancy-ass, expensive-as-fuck towels to wipe your hands after you changed the oil in your bike.”

Spec paled. “You wouldn’t.”

“In a heartbeat,” Jinx said. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he smirked.

Game. Set. Match.

“All right, guys. Can we get to the next order of business?”

Poor Curly. Jinx didn’t envy him having to wrangle this group of undomesticated animals.

He blew Spec a kiss, earning another one-fingered salute. “Okay, boss, what’s our next hurdle?”

Curly flicked a glance toward Tracker, who nodded. The small move made Jinx’s stomach turn. Whatever they were about to say, it’d suck for sure.

“Shit,” Spec mumbled. “Something’s wrong.”

“Tracker’s shop was vandalized last night.”

That had Jinx’s spine straightening. “What do you mean, vandalized?”

“Someone threw a brick through the front window,” Curly said.

“Shit.” Spec jumped up from his chair. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he asked, glaring at Tracker.

“Simmer, Spec.” Curly held up a hand.

“There was no reason to call you right when it happened,” Tracker spoke directly to the hot-headed enforcer. “I didn’t catch anyone in the act. My security system alerted me around three in the morning, and Jo and I drove right over. We cleaned up the glass and boarded the window, and I got a guy coming later today to measure for a replacement. There wasn’t any point in waking everyone up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Okay, sounds like some stupid kids. Maybe customers who didn’t listen to their tattoo aftercare and got an infection, and they now want to blame it on you. Is it more than that? What am I missing?” Jinx’s attention shifted between Tracker and Curly, who seemed to be communicating with their eyes. Their little back and forth did nothing to kill his anxiety.

“This.” Tracker tossed a picture onto the table.

Gut swirling, Jinx was the first to grab it. “Fuck,” he said on an exhale as he scanned the picture. Brooke, Live, Jo, and Rachel sat in a circle on the sand at the beach. Their carefree smiles let Jinx know the ladies had no idea they’d been photographed.


“Lobo?” he asked as he lifted his head and passed the picture to Spec.

No surprise. The enforcer’s reaction was swift, loud, and violent.

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