Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3)

Boner shot me a you’re-loving-this-as-much-as-I-am grin.

He willed his engine to make that insane uproar once again. I stood there, motionless, mesmerized by the sight of him in a very worn-out leather jacket, a blinding white V-neck T-shirt with a silver chain with a snake charm hanging from it, and dark blue jeans that must have been new because there were no rips in them. His silver rings glinted in the sunlight.

“Jill. Car.”

“You don’t like me gawking at you?”

I was openly gawking. What did it matter?

After the mall, the kitchen counter—episodes one and two—his room at the club, and last night’s little phone sexscapade, and not to mention, now that we had official Old Man/Old Lady status, I could do it openly for a change, couldn’t I?

“Oh, I like it, Firefly, but I’m a man on an empty stomach. I might bite.”

Promises, promises.




“Jill, you going to eat it or just keep staring at it?”

“I don’t know how or where to begin. It’s huge.”

“At least Becs knows how to eat. You like it, Becs?”

Becca grinned with a mouthful of buffalo burger, clutching a thick sweet potato fry.

I stroked her tiny hand. “Slowly, honey, okay?”

She nodded as she chewed.

I raised my knife. “I’m going to have to cut this in half.”

“Aw, Jill. For shame,” he said, laughing as I cut the massive burger in two.

“And now I’m going to eat it all.” I took a shameless huge bite of the juicy beast in my hands. The smoky rich flavor of the grilled meat, the luscious combination of the cheese, the bacon, the— “Oh my God,” I managed between chews.

Both Boner and Becca stared at me.

I swallowed. “This is a religious experience.”

Boner grinned at me as he took a swig from a bottle of local craft beer, and Becca chomped on another fry.

My phone buzzed in my bag. I wiped my hands and fished it out.

Catch.

Ugh. Great timing. It was tempting to ignore his call, but he’d only keep trying and accuse me of avoiding him.

“Hello?”

“You think I’m going to let this go, you are dead wrong,” Catch snarled over the phone.

I wiped my hands on my napkin, avoiding Boner’s laser gaze. “What’s up?”

“They tried to humiliate me.”

“What did you think was going to happen?”

“I knew you and Boner had been hanging out, but his old lady? What did you go and do that for? You need committed dick in you?”

I shot up from the table, and Boner’s eyes narrowed at me.

“Be right back. Got to take this.” I charged toward the restrooms in the back of the restaurant. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, we know I’m disgusting. But you? How long is it gonna take till you drive the man insane with your bullshit?”

“Shut up, Catch. What do you care?”

“We were good for a while there, but you’re the one who fucked it up.”

“I remember it differently.” I leaned back against a wall by the ladies’ restroom.

“Yeah, sure you do. But you started it, with your suspicions and insecurities. You did that. All your uptight crap made us a mess.”

“Yes, I did go overboard, and I regret that. But you sure did something about it, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. All the shit you were always accusing me of, I finally did it. And you know what? I enjoyed myself.”

“I have no doubt.”

“And I have no doubt you’re still a miserable little girl who takes out her shit on everybody else. Gotta say, I’m concerned you’re gonna be doing that to our daughter. I don’t want her to be messed up in the head like you.”

“You’re concerned, did you say? Well, Daddy, seeing as how she’s already been the victim of a kidnapping before she even hit two years of age, things are not looking too good on that score.”

“That was a royal fuck-up. Won’t ever happen again.”

“News flash, Catch—me being with my old man is not about you. It’s about me. Nothing I do is about you, but everything is about our daughter. I do put her first, unlike you, and I trust my old man and the One-Eyed Jacks.”

“My old man.” Sweet hell, listen to me.

“Your daughter is a Flame first. Just because you’re warming a Jack’s bed, don’t mean my kid, my own flesh and blood, has got to be subjected to ’em.”

“Subjected? As far as I know, the Jacks and the Flames are not enemies, are they? Oh, I get it now. You’d be happy if I were with an accountant or the stock boy at the local supermarket, so you could be the big macho dick in the room?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jill, and listen. You can’t be straight with me if you tried. My kid is not growing up around another club, you hear? And the Jacks are not gonna tell me what to do and how to do it. That’s my kid we’re talking about. You should show a little more gratitude that I let you leave Nebraska in the first place.”

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