Page 83 of Jax

“Okay!” I yelled, jumping with a surge of energy into his chest, arms going around his neck. My force sent both of us flying backward and off the edge of the bales. The floor met us hard on the other side, and the wind was knocked out of both our chests.

For a moment, we laid there gasping, my head buried on his chest, his arm tight around my back.

“Jesus, Ronnie,” Jax groaned.

I pushed myself up from his chest, my hair falling like a curtain around us as I looked down at him.

“I want to be your girl,” I whispered. “I love you, Jax.”

Jax. Not Jackson.

Jax smiled. A full, boyish, glowing smile breaking across his face and the sight of it made my heart swell.

“Then let’s get started.” Jax grinned, his body shoving up at a moment’s notice, hand coming around my back and flipping me. I was on my back and he was on top of me.

Then he kissed me.

He kissed me softly and gently and full of a passion that melted me under his touch, taking all of him in, and hoping that I could give him even a fraction of that passion as I held onto him and returned the favor.

After years of hoping, dreaming, and pain, I had gotten what I had always wanted.

The man I loved.

Chapter Nineteen

Jax

“Ican’t do it,” Ronnie whispered. My heart throbbed.

“You can,” I tried to encourage her, but the crestfallen expression on her face had already taken hold. Her self-confidence had plummeted, and I knew that the past had yet to be completely rewritten, but to write it off so quick would be an act of suicide.

One I couldn’t let happen.

“I don’t want to push.” Ronnie shook her head, green eyes dark and muted as she looked up at the huge figure in front of her. “I’m not ready.”

“You’ve been ready for a long time, Ronnie.” I pressed my hand to her lower back, my eyes steady. “We’ll do it after three. Ready?”

“Jax, I—”

“One…,” I called, watching her hands grip tighter, eyes looking to me for reassurance. “Two...”

“Jax…,” she whined.

“Three!” I yelled, giving her a push as she jumped from the ground, her other leg swinging in a high arc through the air until her body came down on the leather saddle with a cushioned thump.

Max stiffened at the weight thrust down upon her. Her breathing hitched on her chest, and she stared down hard at the grass. She took in a deep breath, Ronnie and I staring at her with such intense stares as we waited for reaction.

Maybe it’s too early? Did I push her too quick? Did I—

Max gave a loud huff in annoyance but allowed the rider to settle on the smooth ridge of her back.

Looks like I worried for nothing.

“I did it,” she breathed. “She let me on her back!”

Ronnie’s squealing voice startled Max just a little, but it was enough to still the big mare. Ronnie noted it too and with a small, shy gasp, she said, “Baby steps,” reaching out a hand for support.

She found my shoulder under her palm and my hands went around the soft flesh of her waist. She swung her hips toward me, and in a single, smooth motion she slid down the side of the horse onto the ground.

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