Page 6 of Finding His Redemption

She pulled into the alley behind the bakery and turned off the ignition. The engine ticked as it cooled. Morning fog still clung to the mountains, but here in town, the air was crisp and clear.

Jax hadn’t said a word since they’d left the side of the road. He sat motionless in the passenger seat, eyes fixed out thewindow, one hand clenched around the strap of his duffel like he was waiting for someone to rip it away.

“You coming in?” she asked lightly.

He didn’t move.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out, and rounded the back of the car to get Oliver. The little boy was already working on his seatbelt with the kind of grim determination that meant he really needed a bathroom or he was starving, possibly both.

By the time she got the door open, Oliver launched himself out like a tiny rocket. “Can I have a monster muffin?”

“We’ll see.”

Jax had finally gotten out of the car. He stood beside it, tall and still, his duffel slung over one shoulder, hazel eyes scanning the storefront like it was enemy territory. His dark blond hair was messy from the wind, jaw shadowed by stubble, and the worn T-shirt stretched just enough to suggest the muscles underneath weren’t just for show.

Nessie’s breath caught.

He wasn’t classically handsome, not in the polished, movie-star sense. He was raw. Rough-edged. The kind of man who looked like he’d seen too much, survived too much, and could still break you in half if he wanted to.

And, judging by the sudden clenching low in her belly, that worked for her.

God, she hadterribletaste in men.

She turned to look at the bakery, trying to see it through his eyes. Anything to keep from staring at the man who made her pulse do something it hadn’t done in a long, long time.

The bakery was a narrow brick building sandwiched between Bitterroot Drug and Maple Street, its green awning faded by a dozen Montana winters and summers. Upstairs, her apartment windows looked out over Main Street, their flower boxes stuffed with cheerful marigolds and trailing ivy. The sidewalk wascracked in places, the wooden porch slightly warped with age. It wasn’t fancy, but it washers, and it had kept her and Oliver safe for four years.

His gaze landed on the sign hanging over the porch—Nessie’s Place—complete with a stylized green sea monster rising out of a steaming cup of coffee, her tail curling into a heart.

Nessie braced for the inevitable comment. The raised brow. The smirk.

Instead, he just stared at it like he couldn’t figure out what the hell he’d walked into.

She shrugged. “What? You think I wasn’t gonna lean into the name?”

His mouth twitched—almost,almosta smile—but it faded just as fast.

“Your monster has eyelashes,” he said flatly.

“Of course she does. She’s a lady. Don’t be rude.”

Another flick of a smile, there and gone in a blink, and she suddenly, desperately wanted to see a real smile from him. He was already a handsome man, if a bit rough around the edges. But she bet, when he really smiled, he was stunning.

Oliver ran ahead and danced impatiently in front of the door as Nessie unlocked it, then he flung it open. “Come on, Jax! You’ll like it here. It smells like cinnamon!”

Jax hesitated again, gaze darting from the sign to the window to the bright teal front door like he was weighing all his escape routes.

“You can sit by the window,” she offered, and flipped on the light. “Closest to the exit.”

His jaw flexed. Then he gave a short nod and followed her in.

Oliver had already disappeared behind the counter, chattering to himself as he climbed onto a step stool. “Mom, can I help make the coffee? I know how to push the buttons!”

“Not yet, baby. Let me get everything started first.”

Jax chose the table closest to the front door, just like she’d suggested. Set his duffel on the floor beside his chair and kept his back to the wall, eyes on the street outside.

The man looked like someone had taken all the fight out of him, leaving nothing but nerves and scars.

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