Page 86 of Finding His Redemption

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Jax, it’s not?—”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” He backed away from her and pressed his phone to his ear, the rings sounding distant and tinny through the sudden rush of blood in his head. “I’m the kind of mistake that ruins lives. I don’t blame you.”

She reached for him. “Jax?—”

“Go get your son, Nessie.”

“Wait.” She caught his arm hard enough to spin him around and stood on her toes, crashing her mouth to his.

The kiss was desperate, almost wild, and over in seconds.

She pulled back, her eyes fierce. “It’s not what you think. I’ll explain everything later. I promise.”

Then she was gone, fumbling with her keys to unlock the door, slipping inside without looking back.

Jax stood frozen, lips still tingling from her kiss, mind reeling from the whiplash of emotions. One second she was melting against him, the next she was running like she’d seen a monster. And maybe she had—that black SUV with government plates could mean anything from FBI to Marshals.

Shit. Was she in some kind of trouble?

He scrubbed a hand over his face and started walking, his body on autopilot as his brain churned through possibilities. The taste of her lingered on his lips, so sweet and addictive. He’d never felt a connection like that before—like electricity arcing between them, raw and powerful. And then that SUV had driven by, and fear had replaced desire in her eyes so quickly it made his head spin.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

“Problem?” Boone asked when he answered.

“Yeah, I need a ride.”

If Boone had questions, he didn’t voice them. “We’re still in town. Be there in five.”

chapter

twenty-five

The knockat the back door came five minutes after she saw Boone pick Jax up out front.

Nessie had been expecting it, braced for it, and yet her heart still dipped into her belly as she unlocked the door and let Marshal Brandt inside.

She’d been dodging his calls for days, letting them go to voicemail, deleting the increasingly terse messages without listening all the way through. She should have known he’d show up eventually.

“We need to talk,” he said, not bothering with pleasantries. “Now.”

“Can I get you some coffee?” she asked, stalling.

“Cut the shit, Nessie.” He turned and locked the door behind him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to return calls about your safety?” His dark eyes swept the bakery, cataloging exits and sight lines.

Jax did that, too, she realized. The two men were opposite ends of the same spectrum.

“Or too busy playing house with your ex-con boyfriend?”

Heat flared in her cheeks. “Jax isn’t my boyfriend.” She didn’t know exactly what to call him. Friend felt too informal. Boyfriend, too juvenile. This thing growing between them was too new, too raw, too complicated for simple labels.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Brandt’s mouth curved, but it was more of a grimace than a smile as he paced across the bakery’s kitchen and back in several long strides. “Walking down the street, holding his hand? Kissing him like that? The whole town’s gonna be talking about it.”

She winced. At the time, taking Jax’s hand in public had seemed like a prudent point to make, but now she wasn’t so sure.

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