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Cage’s ol’ lady had morphed into the Tasmanian Devil. “What the hell is going on?” She glanced around, took stock of the situation, then concentrated on Tessa. “Chris just told me you’re pregnant.”
Tessa nodded but said nothing else.
“We’re done talkin’ about this here,” Easy said.
Jemma’s eyebrows knitted together as she scanned the room again, reading the tension.
“The fuck we—”
Jem cut Trip off. “Chris said she passed out. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Stella answered, her expression grim.
Jemma twisted her head and shouted over her shoulder, “Chris!”
Cage must have been waiting right outside on the porch out of view because suddenly he was standing at the screen door looking like a deer caught in high beams.
“Get Easy and let’s go,” she ordered her ol’ man.
“I’m not done here,” Trip growled.
“You are done, Trip!” Jemma yelled at him. The energy of her anger had risen to the level of Trip’s.
The women in the sisterhood didn’t take any fucking shit from anyone and that had always impressed Easy. It was even a bit of a turn-on.
Only not at this particular moment.
“You’re not takin’ my sister anywhere,” Trip insisted.
“The fuck I’m not.” She spun on Stella. “Get your ol’ man under control.”
Stella sighed. “You need to let him lead, Jemma. And this involves his sister.”
“I don’t give a fuck if Tessa’s his sister. She’s our sister, too.” Jem pointed at Easy. “And using that goddamn club on someone is not leading.” She faced Trip. “At least this time you didn’t force my brother to do your dirty work.”
“It’s his job,” Trip answered.
“That’s not a job,” Jemma growled. “It’s fucking barbaric and unnecessary. Let’s go. Both of you.” With a last glare at Trip, she helped Tessa out of her chair and took her by the elbow to steer her out of the kitchen and through the door. “Chris!”
Cage grimaced, hooked an arm around Easy’s back and under his armpits and helped him to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“This ain’t over,” Trip said.
“You’re right. It ain’t,” Easy agreed and grabbed the frozen corn. “Thanks for the corn, Stel.”
“Jemma will take better care of you than I can,” she said on a sigh to Easy, even though she kept her eyes on her husband.
Jemma was a hospice nurse, which was perfect since Easy certainly felt like he was fucking dying right now.
“We can discuss all of this as a family once Trip cools off,” Stella announced.
“Nothin’ to discuss,” Easy threw over his shoulder as Cage helped him outside onto the porch. “I got it from here.”
After the screen door shut behind him, Easy kept an ear open for a rush of boots since Trip wasn’t going to like that parting shot.
But fuck him.
If Tessa was pregnant with his kid, then it was up to him and Tess to figure shit out. Not Trip. Not Stella. Not Cage or Jemma.
He still was confused on how it happened in the first place.
Unless…
Fuck. Tessa wasn’t like that. She didn’t even want anything serious with him in the first place. Neither of them did. No fucking way she would use a pregnancy to trap him. Tessa might be young but she wasn’t a conniving bitch like her mother. He was damn sure this pregnancy was just as much of a surprise to her as it was him.
But, holy fuck, now what?
Easy sat at the table in Cage and Jemma’s kitchen. He was currently bare-chested so she could exam him closer while Cage hoofed it over to his room to grab him some fresh clothes and a bottle of whiskey. Easy needed both right now.
He also needed a shower, but a hot bath would be even better. He doubted he’d get one of those anytime soon. The bunkhouse didn’t have a bathtub, so he’d need to borrow one of his brothers’ tubs in cluburbia or in one of the apartments.
But the whole time Jemma fussed over him—shoving pain meds at him, checking to see if he needed stitches, making sure his nose didn’t need set, stopping the bleeding, getting him more ice for the swelling—his eyes had stayed locked on Tessa.
She sat right outside the kitchen on the couch with Dyna. Taking care of that little girl the same way she would as if she was Dyna’s own mother. He waffled back and forth whether he should be reassured by that sight or scared as fuck now that reality had beat him over the head just like The Punisher.
He had so many fucking questions and none of them he wanted to ask in front of Jem or Cage. Any questions he had, any answers Tess gave him, should be between them and no one else.
He wanted to tell everybody to fuck off and leave them alone so they could figure things out. However, Jemma was on a mission right now and he didn’t want to piss her off any further.
