Page 65 of Finding His Redemption

They hadn’t spoken about what happened between them on the phone the other night, not in person, nor when he called her again last night at his usual time. She’d simply told him about her day—how Oliver had built a fort out of every cushion in the house, how she’d burned a batch of cookies because she’d gotten distracted reading, how the bakery had been unusually busy. Normal things. Safe things. But it was the way she shared them, as if she were offering him pieces of her life to hold.

And he wanted to hold them.

God help him, he wanted to collect every scrap of her life she was willing to share.

The bakery was busier than usual for a Wednesday afternoon. Nearly every table was occupied, and the low hum of conversation filled the air along with the familiar scents of coffee and cinnamon.

Jax recognized some faces from his previous visits. Earl Withers was in his corner booth, and Ruthie Campbell and Margery Pendry were gossiping at their usual table.

The words he’d growled to Nessie in the deep dark of the night rushed back to him, visceral and graphic, making his skin heat and his pulse quicken.

“You’ll get yourself off to my voice while those little old ladies are sitting in the dining room, sipping coffee and gossiping, not having any idea what I’m making you do to yourself a few feet away…”

And now here he was, standing in her bakery, looking at those very same women while the memory of Nessie’s soft gasps and moans echoed in his mind.

Jesus Christ.

His cock reacted instantly, hardening at the memories. The damn thing had gotten more of a workout in the last few days than it had in years, and it still wasn’t satisfied. He shifted uncomfortably, grateful for his loose jeans, and forced himself to take a deep breath.

This was why he shouldn’t have come. He couldn’t look at her without remembering every filthy word he’d said, every sound she’d made when she came.

Then he saw her, emerging from the kitchen with a tray of fresh pastries, and his mouth went dry. She was dressed in a pale blue t-shirt and yoga pants, hair up in a messy bun, a smear of flour on the side of her neck. And she wore another ridiculous apron—this time it was pink with jam and toast characters dancing under the words, “This is my Jam.”

Nessie spotted him and froze, the tray still held aloft. Color bloomed in her cheeks, spreading down her neck as her gaze darted to Margery and Ruthie, and Jax knew she was also reliving that phone call. “Jax. Hi.”

Every English word he’d ever known vanished from his head. “Uh… hey.”

Jesus, he was acting like a stuttering teenager with his first crush instead of a grown man who’d been to war and prison. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to appear casual when every cell in his body was vibrating with awareness of her.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she said, recovering faster than he had. She set the tray down on the counter and brushed her hands on her apron, leaving floury handprints on the dancing toast characters.

“Jonah dropped me off.” He shifted his weight, suddenly aware of how little thought he’d put into this. “Thought I’d...”

What?

What had he thought?

That he could just walk in here and pretend to be a regular guy stopping by to see the woman he was infatuated with?

Why was this so much easier when it was just her voice in the dark?

“Thought I’d check on the cameras. Make sure everything’s working right.”

It was a flimsy excuse. They both knew it. Ghost had thoroughly tested the system yesterday, showing her how to access the feeds from her phone and walking her through every angle and blind spot. But she didn’t call him on it.

“Coffee?” she offered, already reaching for a mug—the yellow one with the daisies that he’d used his first time here, he noticed. Like she’d been saving it for him.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He moved toward the counter, careful to keep space between them. If he got too close, he might do something stupid like kiss her right there in front of her customers.

She poured his coffee, adding cream and sugar the way he liked it, her movements quick and efficient. But he caught theslight tremor in her hands, the way her breath hitched when their fingers brushed during the handoff.

“Thanks,” he managed.

Shit. He’d already said that. Now he felt like an idiot.

Nessie didn’t immediately walk away. She lingered, watching him take his first sip, a sexy little smile on her lips. “Okay?”

“It’s perfect.” He realized he was staring at her mouth and dropped his gaze to his coffee. “How’s Oliver?”