Page 7 of Jaxon

Jaxon: I can understand that. We may run in very different circles, but helping others in need is something we have in common.

Rachel: I have to admit, you’ve surprised me. I made some unfair assumptions about you based on your appearance and affiliations. I see now that there’s more to you.

Jaxon: Likewise. You’re not what I expected either, and in the best possible way. I’m glad we were able to move past first impressions.

Rachel: As am I.

Jaxon: See you at 7.

5

The rumble of Jaxon’s motorcycle echoed down her street. She peered through the curtains, watching as he swung off the bike in a graceful arc of denim and leather. Her hands trembled as she checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. The little black dress was a mistake. It revealed too much, drew too much attention. She was exposed, vulnerable.

With a surge of panic, Rachel grabbed her phone and typed a quick message to Jaxon.

Rachel: Sorry, not feeling well. Rain check?

Before she could hit send, a sharp knock rattled the front door. “Rachel? You ready?” Jaxon’s voice was muffled.

Rachel froze, her thumb hovering over the send button. She took a deep, steadying breath and caught her reflection in the mirror. When had she become so afraid to take a chance? So desperate for safety that she would hide from life behind these four walls?

The phone trembled in her grip before she set her jaw. It was time to face her fears. Rachel deleted the message, changed into a pair of jeans and a black top, and strode to the front door.

With a bright smile, she swung open the door. Jaxon looked devastatingly handsome in worn jeans and a leather cutover, all rugged masculinity and barely restrained power.

Rachel moistened her lips, acutely aware of the hunger in his gaze. “Shall we?”

Jaxon’s answering grin was slow and predatory. “We shall.” He offered his arm, and Rachel took it, allowing him to escort her into the night. Into the unknown. Rachel gripped her hands around Jaxon’s waist, the roar of the engine vibrating through her body as the bike surged forward.

A thrill rushed through her veins. The wind whipped her hair. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the road stretching endlessly before her and the sweet song of freedom in her blood.

She had spent too long living a half-life, bound by rules and expectations. No more. Her brush with death shocked her awake, reminding her how fragile and fleeting life truly was.

Rachel tilted her head back and let out a shout of exuberance, the notes lost to the wind. When she glanced at Jaxon, a grin split his ruggedly handsome face. He revved his engine in response, the deep throb of his bike echoing her own.

“Time to really live, isn’t it?” she called out to him, her heart swelling with possibility.

Jaxon’s gaze burned into hers, a silent promise in those fathomless eyes. “Every damn day, babe. That’s my motto now—live like there’s no tomorrow!”

A delicious shiver ran down Rachel’s spine at his words. She had spent so long in the shadows, but now she was ready to step into the light—and into something far more dangerous with the man riding beside her. Adventure, passion, consequence be damned.

Today, she would start living.

They rode for over an hour, winding through back roads blanketed in gold under the setting sun. By the time Jaxon slowed and turned onto a narrow dirt path, Rachel’s muscles ached pleasantly from the exertion.

At the end of the path stood a weathered diner with a sprawling terrace overlooking the valley below. “Best burgers in the county,” Jaxon said with a grin. “Thought you might be hungry after that ride.”

Rachel’s stomach rumbled in response and she laughed. “Starving, actually.”

The terrace was deserted, the other patrons having already headed indoors as dusk approached. They chose a table at the edge, with sweeping views of the dusky landscape.

After ordering their food, a comfortable silence fell over them, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It felt so easy being here with Jaxon, as if they had known each other for years rather than days.

“Do you come here often?” Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She wanted to know everything about this man who had burst into her life and shaken up her world.

“Used to,” Jaxon said. “Haven’t been back in a while. Kind of reminder of better days.” A shadow crossed his face before he shook it off. “How about you? Got any favorite places from your childhood or something?”

Rachel hesitated, old grief and shame rising in her chest. She looked away, tracing a groove in the wooden table with her fingernail. Did she dare share the truth of her past with Jaxon, as broken and messy as it was? She sensed that he had known great pain as well beneath the devil-may-care attitude.

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