Page 47 of Jax
I met his gaze and murmured, “Not a fucking thing.”
Later, when the sun dipped low and the fireflies started to blink around the fence line, I crossed the yard. The women parted with smiles and teasing glances, and Lark turned into me easily, like she’d been waiting. I took the glasses from Isa’s sticky grip, shoved them into my pocket, then slid my arm around my wife’s waist and pulled her in.
The baby babbled, patting at my chest, and Lark leaned into me, her smile softening. I kissed her temple, breathing her in—vanilla, smoke, and something that was just her. My hand drifted down, settling over the gentle curve of her stomach. Not flat anymore. Round and swollen, announcing that she was carrying our second piece of forever.
Her eyes flicked up to mine, shining, knowing exactly what that touch meant.
I lowered my mouth to her ear, my voice a low promise meant only for her.
“You gave me a family, Lark. You made me whole. And I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone take this from us.”
She tipped her face up, and I kissed her, slow and sure, while our daughter giggled between us.
At that moment, with smoke in the air, my brothers’ laughter rolling across the yard, and my family in my arms, I knew that even if the whole world went to hell, I’d stay standing.
