Page 23 of One More Chance

“I can find out for you.” Bruce shrugged. “Ramon will help. And Maizie. You take some time off and don’t worry about it.”

She sighed. That did sound extremely tempting. “We’ll see.”

She was about to tell him to get lost when his phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. “Reboot is done. I’ll get out of your hair.” Bruce eased out of the chair, and she heard his hip pop. He groaned out a sigh. “I could use some of that mojo of yours. The kind that caves someone’s chest in.”

She pressed her lips together and didn’t look at Jax. “Bye, Bruce.”

“Have a good one.” He closed the slider behind him.

Jax asked, “You caved a chest in?”

“I thought you heard about what happened.” She shifted on his lap and still didn’t look at him. “You knew about the woman and the kids.”

“I’m definitely taking time off.”

Chapter Seven

Kenna reached up and scratched her nose, only half awake. Her arm moved faster than she expected, and she smacked herself in the face. “Ow.” She started to sit up, bracing against the weight on her chest. But it wasn’t her. The weight was the cat. “Jolene, get off me.”

Meow.

She shoved the cat to the side and saw the clock. Not even six in the morning. Usually the time Jax woke up, but given he’d opted to take the day off, he was fast asleep beside her.

She slid out of the bed, padding softly to the door so she didn’t wake him and grabbing her robe on the way. Jolene walked ahead of her down the hall. The cat hung out in the bathroom, meowing the whole time Kenna took care of pressing business. The cat waited expectantly in the spot where her bowl was placed until Kenna had mixed wet and dry food and set it on the floor.

Jax had ground the coffee beans and filled the pot the night before, so she hit the button and went to her favorite spot in the living room, where she had her Bible on the side table.

She curled her feet under her, getting in the Word before she picked up her phone.

Whatever emergencies might be on that device, things she’d have to face once she looked at her messages and emails, she would be better equipped to deal with them after she’d absorbed what God had to say.

Her mind wandered to their conversation yesterday. Jax had been so worried about her and hadn’t shared his concerns—or that he’d been hoping she was pregnant. He had intentionally not given her more to carry, adding his burden on top of the worry about what was happening to her but keeping it inside. It turned out they’d both wished that she was pregnant, accepting that as a very real outcome of her time as a captive.

The coffeepot beeped. She headed to it, poured herself a cup, and drank it while she stared out the kitchen window.

“You got up.” His voice sounded like gravel.

Kenna turned to see Jax walk in, sweatpants low on his hips and no shirt. Hair mussed from sleep and a crease on one cheek.

He commandeered her coffee and took a sip.

“Sacrilege,” she breathed.

He wound his arms around her hips and lifted her, sitting her on the counter and moving to stand between her knees.

“What are you doing?” She lifted a brow.

“Saying good morning.”

“Good morning.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Things were getting interesting—and she’d almost forgotten that coffee existed—when her phone rang from the breakfast bar counter. He growled, “Ignore it.”

He must be happy that she felt better and that he had the day off. She was willing to forego any work on cases at all and spend the day just enjoying each other’s company. A much-needed Sabbath to recharge and just hang out. Or a short interlude before the day got going.

After a shower and a plate of bacon and eggs, she finally called Maizie back.

The video call on her phone connected, and she saw Maizie in the trailer, her blond hair loose on either side of her face. “Hey, what’s up? I’ve been going through the file those lawyers gave Bruce. You’re going to want to hear this.”

---