Page 54 of Saving Her Heart
"But—"
"Trust me?"
It's a loaded question. Trust has never come easy for me, not since everyone I loved left. But looking at Jax, remembering howhe held me last night, how he's stood by me through everything these past few days, I realize I already do trust him.
"Yeah," I say. "I trust you."
He kisses me then, right there in front of everyone. Not a quick peck, but a real kiss that makes my knees weak and my heart race. When he pulls back, half the crowd is cheering and the other half is exchanging money.
"Gladys wins again!" someone shouts.
"I always do, dear! I haven’t made it to my eighties without learning a thing or two." Gladys calls back. "Now, who had money on a public declaration of love before Tuesday?"
As we head to the cars, surrounded by friends who are basically family, I catch sight of my reflection in a window. I look happy. Despite everything—the threats, the fires, the cameras—I look happy.
Maybe that's what love is. Not the absence of problems but finding someone worth facing them with.
"Ready?" Jax asks, holding open his truck door.
"For Hooplas? Sure."
"For everything that comes next?"
I think about Valerie's threat, tomorrow's planned inspection, and all the unknowns still hanging over us. Then I think about last night, about ten years of loneliness, about the man standing in front of me who borrowed a goat just to make me smile.
"Yeah," I say, climbing into the truck. "I'm ready."
As we drive toward Hooplas, his hand finds mine across the console. The afternoon sun streams through the windows, and for just this moment, everything feels possible.
Tomorrow we'll deal with Valerie and Brad and whatever scheme they're hatching. Tomorrow we'll figure out how to save my career and catch the people trying to destroy it.
But today? Today I'm going to hold this man's hand and let myself believe in second chances.
The Hooplas parking lot is already packed when we arrive. Through the windows, I can see our friends gathering, drinks already flowing, laughter spilling out into the evening air.
"Last chance to run," Jax says, but he's smiling.
"Rule number four," I tell him. "No more running."
"I like that rule the best."
"I'm full of excellent rules now."
He comes around to my side of the now cleaned up truck, helps me down, and keeps my hand in his as we walk toward the door.
And for the first time in ten years, I feel safe and loved.
Chapter 12
Jax
The morning after the kickball game, I'm at the station going through security footage when the door bursts open. The Walking Ladies storm in dressed like FBI agents—black suits, sunglasses, and what appear to be toy badges from a Halloween store.
"FBIs! Freeze!" Gladys shouts, then looks around the empty bullpen. "Oh. Where is everyone?"
"It's 7 AM," I tell them. "Also, impersonating federal agents is a crime."
"We're not impersonating," Florence says, removing her sunglasses dramatically. "We're the FBIs."
