Page 50

chapter

thirty-five

So this was what peace felt like.

Nessie was curled against him beneath the faded quilt, her arm draped across his chest, dark hair tickling his jaw with each breath.

Jax thought he’d be content to lie here in this moment forever.

But then he heard a sound from the door.

He made sure they were both properly covered, then cocked his head to see around the bed’s footboard. Two sets of eyes peeked around the edge of the door—dark ones belonging to a mischievous little boy and mismatched ones belonging to a dog who looked at him like he hung the moon.

When Oliver saw him looking, he giggled and ducked back into the hall. “He saw us!” he whispered to the dog loud enough that Jax was surprised it didn’t wake Nessie.

Smiling to himself, he gently slid his arm from under her head, taking a moment to shake some circulation back into it. Then he grabbed his jeans, slid them on, and walked out into the living room to find Oliver and Echo pretending they hadn’t been spying.

Oliver sat cross-legged on the rug, painting another watercolor masterpiece while Echo lay beside him, her chin resting on his knee. The kid wore dinosaur pajamas that made Jax’s chest tight with something he couldn’t name.

“Morning, buddy.” Jesus, his voice was rough. He cleared his throat. “You feeling better?”

Oliver nodded enthusiastically, holding up his paintbrush. “Echo wants to paint again. I’m making her a picture of all the horses at your ranch.”

The paper was covered in brown and black splotches that might have been horses if you squinted and used your imagination. Echo’s tail thumped against the floor, and Jax could swear the dog was actually watching Oliver work.

“That’s really nice of you.” He settled on the couch, close enough to keep an eye on them but far enough away to give the kid space.

Oliver dipped his brush in yellow paint, adding what looked like a sun to his masterpiece. “Are you gonna stay for breakfast? I know how to make toast.”

The casual way Oliver asked it, like having Jax there was the most natural thing in the world, made his throat constrict. This kid had no idea how much those words meant to a man who’d spent five years believing he didn’t deserve to be wanted anywhere.

“If your mom says it’s okay,” Jax managed.

“She will.” Oliver’s certainty was absolute, the way only a seven-year-old’s could be. He set down his paintbrush and looked at Jax with those big brown eyes. “You made her happy last night. I could hear her laughing.”

Heat flooded Jax’s face. “Yeah?” He didn’t remember Nessie laughing last night—moaning, yes. Gasping and whimpering and all but sobbing his name when she broke apart—but if that was how Oliver wanted to frame those noises, he wasn’t going to correct him.

“She doesn’t laugh very much.” Oliver picked up his brush again, adding more yellow to his painting. “I think she was scared for a long time. Before we came here.”

The kid was too perceptive for his own good. Jax wondered how much Oliver understood about their life before Solace, about the man they’d run from. Probably more than Nessie realized.

“Sometimes grown-ups get scared,” Jax said carefully. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll always be scared.”

Oliver nodded, like this made perfect sense. “Like Echo. She was scared when you first found her, but now she’s not.”

“Exactly like Echo.”

The dog’s ears perked up at her name, and she lifted her head to look at Jax. Her tail wagged once, lazy and content, so different from the broken animal he’d found cowering in the kennel. Calmer. Settled. Like she’d finally found where she belonged.

Maybe they all had.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and they both turned.

Nessie appeared a moment later, wrapped in a terry cloth robe, her hair mussed from sleep and all the other things they’d done last night.

When her eyes found his, a flush crept up her neck, and Jax’s body heated in response.

She blushed like that right before she climaxed, too.

“Morning,” she said softly.

“Morning.” He wanted to go to her, pull her into his arms, and kiss her until they both forgot their names, but he stayed put. They hadn’t talked about how to handle this in front of the kid.

“Jax is gonna stay for breakfast,” Oliver announced, solving that problem. “I already asked him.”

Nessie’s smile was warm as she ruffled her son’s hair. “Is he now?”

“If that’s okay with you,” Jax said, searching her face for any sign of regret about last night. He didn’t find it. All he saw was contentment and something softer that he wasn’t ready to examine too closely.

“More than okay.” She moved to the kitchen, and he caught a whiff of her scent as she passed. “Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

She laughed, the sound light and free, and Jax understood what Oliver meant. This wasn’t the careful, guarded laughter he’d heard from her before. This was joy, pure and unfiltered.

While Nessie started the coffee, Oliver showed Echo his finished painting. The dog sniffed the paper solemnly, her tail wagging in what looked like approval.

“She likes it,” Oliver declared. “Echo has very good taste in art.”

“The best,” Jax agreed, and meant it. Any creature that could see the beauty in a seven-year-old’s watercolor horses deserved respect.

The smell of coffee filled the small kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of rain drifting in from the partly open window.

“You know what we should do today?” Oliver said, carefully setting his painting aside to dry. “We should take Echo to see the horses for real. She wants to meet them all.”

“Echo does, huh?” Nessie asked with a knowing smirk. “Hasn’t she already met them all?”

“Ugh, okay. I want to meet them.” Oliver clasped his hands and rounded his eyes, making him look like a puppy begging for a treat. “Can we, Jax?”

“That’s up to your mom,” Jax said, though the idea of showing them around Valor Ridge, of letting Oliver see where he lived and worked, had warmth unfurling in his chest.

Nessie filled two mugs with coffee and doctored them up the way he liked before handing one to him. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and he caught the way her breath hitched slightly at the contact.

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said, settling beside him on the couch. Not touching, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. “If you don’t mind us invading your space.”

Why would he mind? He wanted them at the ranch, wanted to show Oliver the horses and the dogs, and introduce him to the other guys. Wanted Nessie to see where he’d been putting himself back together, piece by piece.

Wanted them to be part of his world the way he was becoming part of theirs.

“No, I don’t mind at all.” His voice came out rusty, and he took a drink of his coffee to soothe it. “I’d like you to visit.”

Oliver clapped his hands together, making Echo’s ears perk up. “Yes! Can we go now? Please?”

“After breakfast,” Nessie said, laughing. “And after we get you properly dressed.”

“And after I call in to the ranch,” Jax added, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Let them know I won’t be in for morning chores.”

The screen showed three missed calls from Boone and a string of texts in the group chat X had started. There were variations of “where the hell are you” and “Boone’s looking for you,” but the most recent one from River just said:

Get some, Thorne

Christ, they knew exactly where he was and what he’d been doing. He’d never hear the end of this.

“Everything okay?” Nessie asked, noticing his expression.

“Just the guys being... the guys.” He scrolled through the messages, finding one from Walker that was more diplomatic: “Take the day. You’ve earned it.”

Relief flooded through him. He’d been half-convinced he’d get back to find his bunk cleaned out and his walking papers waiting. The fact that Walker was giving him the day off felt like approval, or at least acceptance.

“They know you’re here?” Nessie’s tone was a bit too casual, and he saw all of the fears he’d tried to exorcise last night creeping back in—the worry that people would talk, that being with him would make her a target for gossip or worse.

After everything she’d been through, the instinct to hide was probably bone-deep.

“Yeah, they know.” He set the phone aside and reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. “Is that a problem?”

She was quiet for a moment, staring at their joined hands. “No,” she said finally, sounding more certain. “No, it’s not a problem. I’m tired of hiding.”

The words hit him square in the chest. She was choosing him, choosing this, despite the risks. Despite the fact that being with an ex-con wouldn’t do her reputation any favors in a town like Solace.

“Good,” he said, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”

Oliver made a gagging sound from the floor. “Gross. Can you guys be mushy after we go see the horses?”

Nessie laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. “Sorry, kiddo. We’ll save the mushiness for later.”

“Much later,” Oliver said seriously. “Like when I’m at college.”

Jax nearly choked on his coffee. The kid was seven years old and already planning his escape. “College, huh? What are you going to study?”

“Dinosaurs. Or maybe dogs. Or both.” Oliver shrugged, as if this was the most reasonable career path in the world. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Dinosaur dogs,” Nessie said. “There’s definitely a market for that.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I could make dogs that look like dinosaurs, so we can actually have dinosaurs as pets! Echo could be the first one!”

Echo lifted her head at her name, tilting it in that way that made her look like she was actually considering the career change.

“I think she’d make a good dinosaur,” Jax said, scratching behind her ear. “She’s already got the predator instincts.”

As if to prove his point, Echo’s attention suddenly snapped to the window. Her body went rigid, ears pricked forward, and a low growl rumbled in her chest.