Page 12 of Jaxon

The neon glow of the Lila's Diner sign cast a pink haze over the parking lot as Rachel pulled up outside. She breathed in the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon grease as she walked through the entrance, the familiar scent evoking memories of Sunday brunches with her grandmother.

A jukebox in the corner played an old Elvis song, the melancholy tune at odds with the cozy atmosphere. Red vinyl booths lined the walls and a long counter ran along the back, where Lila stood chatting with a couple of truckers.

Rachel slid into a booth near the door, her gaze drawn to a table in the center of the room. Jaxon sat with one leg slung over the back of the opposite bench, deep in conversation with a massive man named Slick.

She studied Slick from beneath her lashes, taking in his shaved head and the snake tattoo coiling around his neck. His shoulders strained against a worn leather vest as he leaned forward, speaking in a low rumble she couldn't quite make out.

Jaxon threw back his head and laughed. Her heart skipped at the unrestrained joy in his expression, a glimpse of the man beneath the aloof facade.

Rachel's hands curled into fists in her lap as she acknowledged the truth she'd been denying. She was falling for the man and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.

Slick slid into the seat across from her, resting his forearms on the table. "You've got him all wrong, you know."

Rachel stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."

"Jax. He's not the monster you think he is." Slick sighed. "He's been through hell and back, but he came out the other side a better man. The club, his brothers, we're what saved him. Gave him a purpose."

She furrowed her brow, curiosity warring with the urge to shut Slick down. As much as she wanted to cling to her preconceptions, she couldn't deny her growing fascination with the glimpses of vulnerability she'd seen in Jaxon.

Slick leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Jax was hooked on heroin for years. Nearly died from an overdose once, before I found him. But he got clean, went through rehab and came back fighting. Built the Green Devils from nothing, gave us all a family and a place to belong."

Rachel sucked in a sharp breath, stunned by the revelation. The Jaxon she knew was strong, formidable—she never could've imagined he'd struggled with addiction.

Slick gave her a knowing look. "There's more to him than you think. He's got a good heart, always looking out for people who ain't got nothin' else." He stood, towering over the table. "Just thought you should know.”

Rachel stared down at her hands, a tumult of emotions swirling inside her. She couldn't reconcile the image of Jaxon as a ruthless outlaw biker with the man Slick described—a survivor, who'd fought his way back from the depths of addiction to build a family and a home for people who had nothing else.

Someone nudged her shoulder, jerking her from her thoughts. She looked up to find Jaxon sliding into the booth beside her, his thigh pressed against hers as he slung an arm along the back of the seat.

"Everything alright?" His gaze searched hers, a crease forming between his brows. She glimpsed the caring, protective side of him that Slick revealed. Her cheeks heated as she wondered what else there was to uncover beneath the surface.

She wanted to ask him about his past, to hear the story from his own lips, but she sensed these were wounds that had only just begun to heal. Instead, she mustered a smile and said, "Slick was just keeping me company. Telling stories about the club."

Jaxon's eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. For a moment she feared Slick betrayed his confidence, but then Jaxon huffed out a breath and the tension eased from his face.

"Yeah, he's always got plenty of those. Hope he didn't bore you too much."

"Not at all," she said,. "I enjoyed hearing about how the Green Devils came to be."

Understanding dawned in Jaxon's gaze. He gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her pulse skip. "So he told you about that, did he?"

"He might have mentioned something about how you built this family from nothing." She arched a brow, unable to resist teasing him. "How you gave everyone a place to belong."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "Well, maybe I'll have to tell you the whole story myself one of these days."

His fingers curled around her chin, tilting her face up to his. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath as he said in a rough whisper, "If you're really interested, that is."

She swallowed hard, heat flooding her cheeks. "I think I'd like that."

The smile he gave her then was different from any she'd seen before—less guarded, almost shy in a way that made her heart squeeze. She found herself captivated by the glimpse of vulnerability, wanting nothing more than to see that smile again.

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn't want to. She wanted this, wanted him, with an ache that shocked her.

When his lips brushed hers, a spark ignited low in her belly, spreading warmth through her veins. She sighed into the kiss, parting her lips in invitation.

Jaxon made a sound deep in his throat and took it, sliding his tongue against hers in a dance as old as time. His hand cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he plundered her mouth in a kiss that left her dizzy and breathless.

She fisted her hands in the front of his cut, pulling him closer until she was half in his lap. The feel of his hard body against hers sent another wave of heat through her core, and she moaned.

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