Page 8 of Falling for the Bad Boy Firefighter (Fox Ridge: Fire Station #2)

Two Years Later

The annual Fire Department appreciation dinner has transformed the normally utilitarian space into something almost elegant. String lights crisscross the ceiling, tables covered in red cloths dot the periphery, and children dart between adults' legs with paper fire hats perched on their heads.

My gaze drifts across the room, settling on the figure that still, after all this time, makes my heart skip a beat.

Jax stands tall among his colleagues, a half-smile playing on his lips as he listens to Chief Mason.

He's wearing his dress uniform—the navy fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, silver buttons gleaming.

His hair is shorter now, but the same rebellious lock still falls across his forehead when he laughs.

There's an ease to him that wasn't there before, a comfort in his own skin that makes him even more magnetic.

As if sensing my attention, he glances up, our eyes meeting across the crowded room. The corner of his mouth lifts in that smile he saves just for me—soft around the edges, warm with promises kept.

Two years ago, I was Penny Clark, curator of the Historical Society, keeper of rules and traditions. I lived my life in neat, organized boxes, afraid to step outside the lines the town had drawn for me.

Then came Jax Walker, with his tattoos and his scowls and his heart bigger than anyone gave him credit for. He didn't just step outside those lines—he erased them completely.

Jax excuses himself from his conversation and makes his way toward me, nodding to people as he passes.

The reactions still amaze me sometimes—respectful nods, genuine smiles, even a high-five.

The whispers still follow him occasionally, but they're different now.

"That Walker boy finally found his place," they say.

When he reaches me, Jax doesn't hesitate. His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my cheekbone with a gentleness that belies his strength. Then he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips that makes me forget we're in a room full of people.

"Missed you." he murmurs against my mouth, the endearment no longer teasing but tender.

I smile up at him, my hand resting on his chest where I can feel his steady heartbeat. "I was only getting punch."

"Too long," he says simply, and the raw honesty in those two words still takes my breath away.

Jax Walker, the man who once guarded his emotions like they were state secrets, now says things like this without hesitation.

"Aunt Penny! Uncle Jax!"

The moment breaks as little Mia Lewis barrels toward us, her dark curls bouncing with each step. At nine years old, she's a whirlwind of energy and curiosity.

Jax releases me just in time to catch Mia as she launches herself at him. He swings her up effortlessly, settling her on his hip like she belongs there. It's a sight that still makes my heart constrict—my once-guarded man so natural with this child who adores him.

"Did you save anyone today, Uncle Jax?" Mia asks, her eyes wide with the hero worship she's reserved for him since the day they met.

Jax ruffles her hair, his smirk softening into something genuine. "Not today, kid. But the night's still young."

"Filling her head with rescue stories again?" Samuel approaches with Rebecca beside him, baby Noah dozing against her shoulder. The friendship between Jax and Samuel has deepened over the years, forged in shared shifts and mutual respect.

"She asks, I answer," Jax shrugs, but there's a warmth in his eyes as he looks at his friend.

Rebecca laughs, adjusting Noah as he stirs. "She's been going on about fire safety all week after your last visit. Drew escape plans for every room in our house."

"Smart kid," Jax says, pride evident in his voice. He sets Mia down but keeps hold of her hand. "Want to see the new truck, peanut? Chief says it has all the fancy gadgets."

Mia nods enthusiastically, and they head toward the gleaming engine, her small hand completely enveloped in his.

Rebecca watches them go, then turns to me with a knowing smile. "He's going to be an amazing father someday."

Heat rises to my cheeks as my hand instinctively moves to my stomach. "Is it that obvious?"

Her eyes widen in delighted surprise. "You're—? Oh, Penny!"

She envelops me in a one-armed hug, careful not to squish Noah between us. "How far along? Does Jax know?"

I laugh, glancing over to where Jax is lifting Mia into the driver's seat of the fire truck. "Eight weeks. And not yet—I just found out yesterday. I'm telling him tonight."

Samuel's face breaks into a rare, full smile. "He's going to be over the moon, Penny. And terrified out of his mind."

"I know," I say softly. "That's how I know he'll be perfect at it."

We watch as Jax helps Mia back down, her little face alight with excitement. There's something almost reverent in the way he holds her small hand, the gentleness he shows only to those he considers his to protect.

Soon our own child will know that gentleness, that fierce, unwavering love. The thought fills me with a warmth that radiates from the center of my being.

As if sensing my thoughts, Jax looks up, his eyes finding mine across the room. Even at a distance, I can see the question in them—the silent checking in he still does, making sure I'm happy, that I'm still certain of us.

I smile back, pouring all my love, all my certainty into that look.

We've built something real here, something neither of us thought we deserved.

Not just a love story or a scandal that rocked Fox Ridge, but a home.

A family. A future woven into the very fabric of this town that once tried to keep us apart.

Jax returns to my side, his arm sliding around my waist, pulling me close against him. "You okay? You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The one that means you're thinking big thoughts." His thumb traces circles on my hip, grounding me.

I lean into him, savoring his warmth, the steady strength of him. "Just thinking about how far we've come. How much we've built together."

His eyes soften as he presses a kiss to my temple. "Didn't think I'd ever have this," he admits, the vulnerability in his voice still a gift he gives only to me.

I reach up, placing my palm over his heart, feeling its strong, steady beat beneath my fingers. "You do," I whisper. "We do."

And soon, there will be one more piece to our story, one more heart beating in our home.

Thank you for reading!