33
JACKSON
I set a giant bowl of spaghetti and meatballs onto the center of the table, along with warm Asiago bread. “If they don’t come out here in five seconds to eat this dinner I made?—”
“Don’t even fucking start.” Ethan chuckles, his attention on his phone. “Leave ‘em alone.”
I slump into the dining chair next to him, one of those tall, ladder-back styles that match the weathered farmhouse table.
I didn’t think the rustic aesthetic would pair well with the black countertops, but the bronze accents and wooden beams pull it all together perfectly. Plus, it was on Aurora’s Pinterest, so…
“And why would I do that? How are you so calm? Oh, that’s right: you’ve been pitching him since New York.”
“Yup, because I need him. We need him. If I can deal with you, you can deal with him.”
I stand, pushing back the chair, my hands flat on the table. I’m restless, torn in a hundred different directions.
Ethan drops his phone and grabs my shirt for the hundredth time today. “I’m joking. Relax.”
He’s tactile—always has been, especially with Aurora, and that seems to be passing on to me. Not that I’m complaining; it helps ease my agitation.
“I need eyes on her. I’m installing cameras in his room.”
“Do you trust me?” He ignores my last sentiment, so he must agree.
Cameras in Reece’s room would’ve prevented today’s disaster—or not. Maybe I would’ve strangled him. Perhaps it’s better I don’t know what they’re doing.
Straightening, I lean against Ethan’s chair. “Of course I do.”
“Then trust me on this, okay? Imagine what we can achieve with the three of us. Imagine having someone else to protect our family, someone who’ll always be with her and the baby.”
“Did he say he’d quit his job?”
A knowing glint appears in Ethan’s eyes. “Not yet. He’s in a position to protect you.”
Irrational fear erupts in my stomach like a swarm of angry bees. “Fuck that. You know who else was in a position to protect me?”
That piercing gaze narrows. “Do I need to worry about you, more than normal? Do you need to see someone? I’d never let anyone hurt you or Aurora. I mean it, Jax. I’ll do whatever it takes, and if that means having Reece here, then so be it.”
I sit, drop my head into my hands, and rub my eyes. “How can you be so positive about everything?”
His hand clasps the back of my neck and massages the tight muscles.
“You’re gonna give yourself a headache. I planned to spend my life alone, and although that sounds appealing,” his voice carries a smile, probably picturing peaceful days and quiet nights, “I can’t imagine returning to the silence.
I have Aurora and you, and we’ll have a baby soon.
We have this house and a family in New York.
We possess the power to do anything we choose.
You taught me that.” His fingers move into my hair.
“Tell me what you need to get through this. We have our entire future ahead of us.”
What do I need? Ultimately, our family’s safety. I want to say I can manage myself, but the more I’m around Ethan, the more I realize I’ve been spiraling since my rookie year, and I was out of control as a teenager before then.
He and Aurora are my only refuge. Without them, I’d go out in a blaze of glory, killing all these motherfuckers who haunt me.
He continues to caress me, his soothing touch battling the war waging within. “You wanna return to New York?”
Before I’m able to answer him, footsteps echo in the hall. When I lift my head, all I see is Reece’s smile. My gaze connects with Ethan’s. “Can I please murder him?”
“No. We need him to protect Aurora and the baby—and the next baby you want so badly.”
“Manipulative much?” I mumble as they take their seats across from us.
“Dinner smells amazing.” Aurora sets the napkin on her lap. “What are you two whispering about?”
Reece follows suit, that smug smile never leaving his ugly mug.
Nope, I can’t do this. “How fucking awkward this is.”
Ethan grips my knee under the table, easing some of the sharp emotions in my chest.
“Let it go,” he growls.
Aurora places a piece of bread on her plate. The Viking butters the slice for her, and I roll my eyes.
Someone kill me now.
Ethan’s hand shifts higher, and my body becomes distracted, buzzing for a whole new reason.
“Babe,” I say, as gently as I can muster. “We are not picking up any more strays. Understand me?”
“Technically, babe ,” she mocks. “If you wanna go there, you and I were kinda sorta broken up.”
Reece folds his arms over his chest with an expression that reads, I told you so.
I let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a screech. “You already have one rebound!” I point to Ethan, who smirks.
“And he ,” she drags out the word for emphasis, “wasn’t there either. He said he wasn’t capable of a relationship.”
“You don’t get a rebound from your rebound. It doesn’t work like that!” I shout.
She leans over the table. “Didn’t you just promise to stop yelling?”
“Would you rather I yell or kill someone? Because I swear to God, Aurora, I will murder anyone else and bathe you in their blood.” Damn, that feels good to get off my chest. “And if you,” I point at Reece, “ruin this, I’ll kill you too.”
He rolls his shoulders. “I’d love to see you try.”
I glare at him and snatch Aurora’s plate before he can serve her. Childish? Yes. Do I care? No. “Don’t forget you sleep under my roof.”
Ethan tightens his grip on my upper thigh. “Are you done? Can we eat now? I’m fucking starving.”
“Me too,” Aurora agrees. “Spaghetti is my favorite.”
I scoop pasta onto her dish. “No, it’s not.” It is, but I want to argue. I want her attention. “You don’t even like meat.” That’s partially true.
Reece scoffs. “I don’t think you know her as well as you think you do. Clearly, that’s not accurate.”
I pause mid-stab of a meatball, disassociating, because I know I’m not finding him funny.
When my soul returns to my body, I pass him the meatball on my fork the same as I pass a puck—a flick of my wrist, eighty miles per hour, without looking, and dead-on.
Except he moves his head at the last second, and meat and sauce explode all over the smoke-gray wall.
Aurora’s mouth falls open with a gasp. “Jackson Vaughn O’Reilly!”
Ethan doubles over, his face practically in my lap, his body shaking with laughter. It better be me he finds funny.
Aurora arches a threatening brow. “If you don’t stop, I’m not sleeping in your bed tonight.”
“Yeah, okay, wife .” I serve spaghetti as if nothing had happened. “We’ll see how well that goes over. If I’m in this house, you’re sleeping with me and Ethan, and no one else.”
“Thank fuck you’re gone half the year.” Reece grips his knife so tightly, his knuckles are bone-white.
I bet he’s itching to stab me.
“Thank fuck she’s going with me,” I snap back.
“Thank fuck this conversation is over,” Ethan rumbles in his coach voice.
Jesus, why does that give me goosebumps?