Page 33

EPILOGUE

PHARO

One Year Later

The shop smells like engine oil and old leather and something sweeter—coffee, probably, or the lingering scent of Jax’s cologne.

Sunlight cuts through the wall of windows, dust motes dancing in the golden haze as Stiles curses gently under his breath over a stubborn carburetor across the room. I’ve been busy all day, I haven’t even stopped for lunch, but Jax stopped by half an hour ago and hasn’t left.

Not that I want him to.

He’s leaning against the workbench now, arms crossed, watching me as I wipe down the vintage tank I’ve been nursing back to life for the last few weeks. It’s a 1968 Triumph Bonneville. Same kind of bike my father rode when he was young and reckless.

I glance up at Jax, and he’s smiling that lazy, fond smile—the one he thinks I don’t see.

“What?” I ask, brushing grease from my hands.

“Nothing,” he says, pushing off the bench to walk over. “Just thinking.”

“That’s always dangerous.”

He hums, stops beside me, eyes on the bike. “You look good like this.”

“Covered in engine oil?”

“Happy,” he says, and his voice goes quiet. “Rooted.”

I peer down, fingers running over the freshly painted tank. There’s a stillness here I didn’t know I craved until I found it. The kind of stillness that lets you breathe all the way to the bottom of your lungs.

“I used to think purpose had to come with a uniform,” I admit.

Jax leans in, resting his chin briefly on my shoulder before kissing the spot just beneath my jaw. “Turns out purpose can smell like gasoline and sound like classic rock.”

We both laugh quietly. Across the shop, Stiles mutters something about “get a room,” but he doesn’t even glance up. He’s used to us by now. The gruff grumbling is just for show.

Jax walks around the bike, trailing his fingers along the seat, the chrome, the bones of it. “You think you’ll keep this one?”

I give a slight tilt of my head. “Yeah. This one’s not for sale.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sentimental?”

I glance at him, catch the way his eyes soften when they meet mine. “You could say that. It’s the one I was working on the day you finally admitted you were head over boots in love with me.”

“That’s not exactly the way I remember it,” Jax scoffs.

I press against him, my lips just inches from his. “I remember it vividly. You took me into the backroom and blew me, and then after you made a show of swallowing my load,”--Stiles interrupts by coughing loudly, like he swallowed a bug he’s trying to hack up,--“you said you loved me, and that no matter what happened in the past, no matter what the future holds, you were here for all of it. Through thick and thin, and that not only were you in love with me,” I tease, sliding my tongue over his bottom lip, “but that I was the only man you’ve ever loved, and ever will. Once in a lifetime, you said.”

Jax sucks my tongue into his mouth and kisses me like he’s making the same promise all over again. When he pulls back, he stares into my eyes, smiling softly. “Don’t get sappy on me, Master Sergeant.”

“Too late.”

He rolls his eyes but grins, and it sticks, wide and real.

I swipe my thumb across his bottom lip, still feeling the echo of his kiss, the way it said I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Like it always does.

“You know, if I’d known how good this could be, maybe I’d have retired years ago, skipped the whole merc thing, and gone straight for the prize.” I press my dick into his, emphasizing which prize I’m talking about.

“Please,” Jax snorts. “You’d have lasted two weeks behind a desk before you started yelling at spreadsheets.”

He’s not wrong. Thank God he handles that shit for me.

“Besides,” he adds, palming my rapidly thickening cock, “you needed all those years to become the kind of man who could build something like this. And maybe… the kind who could stay.”

That quiets the teasing retort and the bathroom quickie I had planned.

I tip my forehead against his and close my eyes. Just for a second. Just long enough to take in the way the air smells, the hum of classic rock in the background, the steady press of Jax’s body against mine.

Yeah. This is what staying feels like.

“You’re not so bad at the sappy stuff yourself,” I murmur.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he replies, brushing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “It’ll ruin my reputation.”

Stiles clears his throat loudly from the other side of the shop. “If y’all are gonna start dry humping the Bonneville, I’m taking my lunch early.”

Jax doesn’t even flinch. Just flashes him a thumbs up without turning away from me. “We’ll lock the doors.”

I shake my head, chuckling as I go back to the bike, but Jax stays close—his hand still resting on my back like a promise.

Like home.

God, if only the old me could see us now. Happy. Rooted , like Jax said. In love with a man who wouldn’t have pissed on me if I were on fire.

Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?

He catches me staring and quirks a brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, but it’s not true. There’s a knot in my throat, and I’m not sure if it’s gratitude or disbelief.

Jax, being Jax, doesn’t push. Just leans against the workbench again, arms folded, giving me space but not going far.

“I was just thinking,” I say finally, “if the version of me from four years ago could see us now, he’d probably call it a hallucination. Or a midlife crisis.”

Jax smirks. “Joke’s on him. You hit your crisis early.”

“Thanks for the support,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling.

He shrugs, his expression softening. “You changed. I did, too. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

I dip my head, wiping down the last smudge of oil from the tank. The shop’s quiet now. It’s peaceful. Real. The kind of moment you don’t realize you’ve been craving until it’s right in front of you.

“I didn’t think I’d get this,” I admit. “A second chance. You. Us.”

Jax steps close again, slipping his hand into mine like he’s done it a thousand times, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You didn’t get it,” he says. “You earned it.”

And somehow, that matters more than anything.

* * *

Are you pumped for Mandy and Tex’s story? Read The Tex Hex , a hurt comfort friends to lovers romance that will leave you in pieces before healing you. Come along with the Bitches with Stitches on another emotional and thrilling journey for their long-anticipated love story!