Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
BELLA
It’s the middle of the night when pounding on my front door yanks me out of sleep. My heart is racing before I’m even fully awake, my brain scrambling to catch up.
Another knock—louder, more urgent.
I throw off the covers and hurry to the door, barely stopping to check the peephole.
Jax.
The second I see him, I know something’s wrong. He looks wired, like he’s running on pure adrenaline, his chest rising and falling hard. I yank the door open, but before I can even get a word out, he steps inside and pulls me into his arms.
We just stand there—door wide open, middle of the night, and he’s holding me like he never wants to let go.
His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “It’s over, baby. We finished it.”
I lean back just enough to look up at him. He’s watching me, waiting for it to sink in. And when it does, I see it—the relief in his eyes, the weight that’s been crushing him finally lifting.
I reach behind him and push the door shut, locking it before getting a good look at him. He’s a mess. His clothes are covered in dirt and blood. His hands, his arms—streaked with it.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, already running my fingers over his skin, searching for anything he’s not telling me.
He shakes his head. “Not mine.”
I swallow, nodding once. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I take his hand and pull him toward the bathroom, flipping the shower on as hot as it’ll go. Steam starts rising instantly, fogging up the mirror.
He shrugs out of his cut, I take it and fold it, setting it on the counter. I turn back to him and reach for his shirt, peeling it off slowly. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me undress him, piece by piece. This isn’t about anything other than taking care of him, so I don’t rush it.
He steps under the water, and I don’t even think twice before stripping down and climbing in behind him. Grabbing the soap, I lather up my hands and start washing him, my touch slow and careful. I rinse away the dirt, the blood, the night.
He hasn’t said much, but I can feel it—whatever went down tonight, it was big. Heavy.
I don’t ask. If he wants to tell me, he will. But this feels like something between him and his brothers, something he needs to hold onto for now. So I don’t push.
When I’m done, I step out first, wrapping a towel around myself before grabbing another for him. He lets me dry him off, watching me with this quiet intensity, like he’s still trying to come down from whatever storm he just walked through.
I take his hand and lead him to bed. He lies down without a word, and I slide in next to him, wrapping myself around him and holding him close. He’s warm against me, solid, but he’s so damn quiet, it’s almost scary. I press a soft kiss to his shoulder, my fingers running over his chest. “I’ve got you, Jax.”
He exhales, his breath a little unsteady, and finally, his arm tightens around me. “Yeah, baby. You do.”
Any reservations I had about moving back in with Jax are completely gone. Being with him, taking care of him, letting him take care of me—I don’t want to fight it anymore.
I love him. I want everything with him. A life, a future, a home that’s ours. And I’m done holding back. I snuggle in closer, holding him tight, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. It’s strong, solid—just like him. With his arms wrapped around me, I finally let go of everything else. I close my eyes and let his heartbeat lull me to sleep.
The next morning, I wake up feeling lighter than I have in a long time. I slip out of bed quietly, leaving Jax still passed out, and head to the kitchen. I decide to make breakfast, moving around the kitchen, flipping pancakes and frying bacon, letting the warmth of the morning settle over me.
One thought keeps circling in my chest, sinking deeper with every moment. Jax isn’t just my present—he’s my past and my future. He’s everything. And I’m done holding back.
About forty-five minutes later, I hear the shuffle of bare feet on the hardwood. A second later, Jax stumbles into the kitchen, wearing nothing but his jeans. His body is still loose from sleep, and the lazy, half-awake look on his face just makes him even hotter. God, he’s so unfairly good-looking.
He catches me staring and smirks. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
I grin as he steps up to me, wrapping me in his arms and pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to my lips. I tilt my head back, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.
“You. Us.”
His smirk deepens. “Oh yeah?”
I nod.
“Good.”
“It is good.” I tap his chest, nudging him toward the table. “Now go sit down. I made pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hash browns.”
Jax pulls out a chair, eyeing the spread. “This feels like a reward.”
I shrug, shooting him a look. “Maybe it is.”
I make his plate and set it in front of him before turning to grab his coffee, but before I can take a step, his arm snakes around my waist, yanking me onto his lap.
“Where you going?”
I laugh, wiggling against his hold. “To get your coffee.”
“Not without giving me a kiss first.”
I lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, but he isn’t having it. His grip tightens, and he pulls me in for a long, deep kiss that makes my head spin.
When he finally lets me go, I take a second to catch my breath. He smirks, satisfied, then helps me to my feet, giving my butt a playful slap as I walk away.
Yeah. This is exactly where I’m meant to be.
After grabbing my plate, I sit across from him at the table. He’s already halfway through his food, eating like a man who hasn’t had a real meal in weeks. My heart pounds as I take a deep breath, clearing my throat.
“I’m ready to come back home.”
His fork stills. His eyes darken—not with anger, but something I can’t quite place. I wasn’t expecting a parade or anything, but I thought he’d at least smile. Maybe pull me into his lap again.
Instead, he just stares at me.
“Is this about last night?”
My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
He leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face. “Are you worried about me? Are you coming back because you think I need you to take care of me or something? Is this… guilt?”
I blink at him, completely caught off guard. “Guilt? Jax, what the hell are you talking about?”
He shakes his head like he’s trying to shake off the thought. “Forget I said anything.”
Yeah. Not likely.
I narrow my eyes, my heart pounding a little harder now. “Do you not want me to come back?”
Jax exhales sharply, setting his fork down with a clatter. His gaze locks onto mine, intense and unwavering. “Baby, you coming back has always been the end goal for me. You, me, getting married, putting a baby inside you—over and fucking over again—until we have a little crew running around.”
My breath catches, heat rushing to my face, but he’s not done.
“I just don’t want you to feel bad. I don’t want you coming back because you think you have to take care of me, or because last night shook you up. I want you here because you know it’s where you belong.”
I don’t hesitate. I reach across the table, grabbing his hand, squeezing it tight. “It is. Anywhere you are is where I want to be.”
His jaw tics like he’s still trying to hold something back, but then his fingers tighten around mine, and I see it—the relief, the love, the need he doesn’t bother hiding anymore.
Jax lets out a rough breath, running a hand over his head. His grip tightens around mine for a second before he abruptly pushes back his chair.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I had this planned in so many different ways. Not like this. But I can’t wait anymore.”
Before I can even process what’s happening, he pulls a small box out of his pocket and drops to his knees in front of me.
My heart stops.
He opens the box, and I swear my breath catches in my throat. The ring is gorgeous. A big-ass round diamond in the center, smaller diamonds wrapping around the band. Simple, timeless, absolutely perfect. And he picked it for me.
I look at him, my chest aching, my pulse racing. His eyes burn with so much love it nearly knocks the air out of me.
“Bella, will you marry me?” His voice is rough, raw. “Will you be my wife? Have my babies? Take care of us?” He swallows hard. “I’ve never needed anyone before—anyone—until I met you. You came into my life, shook it up, shook me up, and gave me new dreams. I don’t want any of it without you.”
He takes a breath, holding my gaze. “Bella, please… say you’ll be my wife.”
I clap a hand over my mouth, my eyes stinging as I stare down at him. This big, strong, fearless man—on his knees for me.
A tear slips down my cheek as I smile through it. “Yes.” My voice shakes, but there’s no doubt, no hesitation. “Yes, Jax. In a hundred lifetimes it would always be you.”
Before I can even take another breath, he’s up, wrapping me in his arms, crushing his mouth to mine. His lips brush against mine as he murmurs, “You’re mine now, baby.” His voice is thick with emotion. “Forever.”