Chapter 39 #3
By women who will roast you to your face and bury a body for you before dinner.
By a mother who almost lost you and still smiles every time Jimmy walks too close because she knows exactly what it means now.
By Aunt Lucy, who has watched me moon over her son for most of my natural life and somehow never once told him, which honestly is real restraint on her part.
By Emma, who catches my eye from across the room and gives me one of those small, steady looks that says more than most people can manage with a full speech.
You’re okay. You made it. You’re still here. And the strangest part of all is realizing I’m not that girl anymore.
Not the one always waiting. Not the one hoping he’ll finally look. Not the one standing in the background trying not to want too much from a man who kept treating me like timing was the problem instead of fear.
That girl was real. She mattered. She got me here.
But she’s not me now.
Because now Jimmy sees me.
Fully. Openly. Without flinching.
And maybe even more importantly, I see him too.
Not just the boy I crushed on. Not just the VP everyone listens to. Not just the man who came apart when he thought he lost me.
I see the whole thing now.
The devotion under the rough edges. The fear he had to fight through to get here. The love that was always there, buried under years of bad decisions and stubbornness and bad timing and too much history.
And I chose him anyway.
Still, that matters. That will always matter.
The screen door creaks open behind us. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him.
My whole body knows first.
The room goes a little quieter in that deliberate way people do when they’re pretending not to notice something they are absolutely noticing.
I look over my shoulder.
Jimmy’s leaning against the doorframe in a black T-shirt and worn jeans, one forearm braced overhead, eyes already on me like he walked in looking for exactly one thing and found it.
Which, to be fair, he did.
Ana makes a gagging noise.
Shaina whispers, “And there he is.”
Kya mutters, “The king of emotional constipation.”
Jimmy ignores all of them. “C’mere,” he says.
Again.
Like I’m just naturally supposed to end up in his orbit now. The crazy part is, I am. I stand with a smile on my face.
My mom smiles into her drink.
Aunt Lucy looks smug enough to be annoying.
Emma just watches quietly like she’s filing this whole thing away in whatever calm little place she keeps everybody’s milestones.
I walk to him.
He doesn’t wait for me to get all the way there before he reaches for me, hand settling at my lower back and guiding me out onto the porch like it belongs there.
It does.
Outside, the evening has gone soft and golden and full of that kind of peace that only exists in stolen little pockets when life decides to be generous for a second.
Jimmy leads me down the porch steps and around toward the firepit where a few of the guys are starting to gather for the night part of the party.
He doesn’t stop there. He keeps walking until we’re just off to the side of the lot near the line of bikes, close enough to hear everybody and far enough to have this moment mostly to ourselves. He turns to face me.
And for one second, he just looks.
Not in a heated way. Not even really a possessive one. Just…deeply. Like he still can’t quite believe I’m standing here in front of him and not somewhere farther away where he can’t get to me.
My chest softens around that. “You okay?” I ask.
He huffs a breath. “I was gonna ask you that.”
“You already asked me that.”
“Still valid.”
I smile.
Then his hand comes up and brushes lightly over the side of my neck where the bite mark has mostly faded. His jaw ticks once. That old, dangerous anger still lives there. I know it always will. But his touch is careful. Almost reverent.
And that means more than he probably realizes.
“Jimmy,” I say softly.
His eyes lift to mine.
I don’t know exactly what he sees on my face, but whatever it is makes something in his expression shift too.
He slides one arm around my waist and pulls me into him until I’m standing between his boots with my palms braced lightly against his chest. “I’ve been thinking,” he says.
“That sounds dangerous.”
His mouth twitches. Then he looks back at me with that same quiet seriousness that wrecks me every time. “I don’t want you at the clubhouse forever unless that’s what you want.”
I blink. “Okay.”
“I’ve been looking at a place.”
That takes me off guard enough that I actually laugh a little. “A place?”
He nods once. “Small house. Bit outside town. Not far enough to be a pain in the ass. Close enough that if your dad loses his mind and wants to pretend he needs to keep an eye on you, he can.”
I stare at him.
He keeps going. “Needs work. Yard’s decent. Big porch.” His thumb brushes slowly against my waist. “Could be ours.”
The words hit somewhere so deep I have to actually breathe around them.
Ours.
Not a fantasy. Not a someday maybe tossed out to keep me soft. A real thing. Thought about. Considered. Planned.
“You’ve been looking at houses?” I ask.
“I’ve been looking at a future,” he says simply.
That one almost takes my knees out.
Because there it is. That thing I waited so long to hear. Not just I love you. Not just you’re mine. Not just the desperate, beautiful promises he whispered to me when I was half conscious in his arms.
Something steadier.
A plan. A life.
I slide my hands higher over his chest until they settle near his shoulders. “What if I said yes?”
His eyes darken just slightly. “Then I’d buy the damn house.”
I laugh through the sudden sting in my eyes. “What if I said no?”
He studies me for half a second, then answers without hesitation. “Then I’d keep looking until we found one you wanted.”
And that right there is the moment everything fully settles into place. Because that’s love too. Not just claiming. Not just protection. Choice. Space.
A future that has room for both of us inside it.
My throat goes tight enough that I have to swallow before I can speak. “I say yes,” I whisper.
His whole face changes. Not dramatically. Not like a movie. Just enough that I see exactly how much that answer matters to him.
Good. I want him to know.
“I say yes,” I repeat, louder this time. “To the house. To the future. To all of it.”
His hand slides up into my hair, fingers curling gently at the nape of my neck. “And if I asked something bigger later?”
I arch a brow even though my heart is trying to beat itself clean out of my chest. “Is that your very subtle way of threatening me with a ring?”
His mouth curves. “Maybe.”
“Wow. Romance really is alive.”
He leans down until his forehead rests against mine. “I’m serious, Allie.”
My hands flatten over his chest. “So am I.”
We stay like that for a long second. Maybe longer.
Then I smile and whisper, “Also, for the record, if you ever propose to me with the phrase ‘something bigger later,’ I will say no out of principle.”
He laughs. A real one. Warm and low and easy.
God, I love that sound.
“Noted.”
“Good.”
Then he kisses me. Slow. Certain. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask questions because it already knows the answer.
When he pulls back, he looks at me like I’m the easiest decision he’s ever made.
The firepit crackles to life behind us. Somebody starts yelling about marshmallows.
Lexi laughs. Gio takes off running with Amy right behind him.
Brooke is crying again for reasons nobody can quite pin down, and Kya is loudly blaming Dom for all of it while Mac tells everyone to shut up and hand her another brownie.
Life keeps going.
That’s the miracle of it.
Not that everything stopped hurting all at once. Not that fear vanished cleanly. Not that healing wrapped itself up in a neat little bow.
Just that life kept going. And we got to keep going with it.
Jimmy hooks an arm around my shoulders and turns us back toward the group.
This time, when we walk back in together, nobody pretends not to notice.
Landon clocks us and gives Jimmy one long look before jerking his chin once like a warning and reluctant blessing all at once.
My dad watches us too, but there’s less sharpness in it now. More acceptance. More trust. Maybe even a little peace.
My mom smiles.
Aunt Lucy outright beams.
Ana and Shaina look like they’re one second away from making our lives miserable in the name of love.
Emma pats the empty space beside her by the firepit, and Jimmy steers me there without even asking if I want to sit because he already knows I do.
I sink down between his legs on the bench and lean back into his chest while his arms come around me automatically.
Safe. Warm. Easy.
His chin rests lightly against the top of my head.
The fire crackles. The babies kick under their mothers’ hands. The brothers laugh. The women talk. The club keeps breathing around us.
And for the first time in years, there is no ache in me where Jimmy Baker is concerned.
No longing. No waiting. No wondering if maybe one day he’ll finally stop running long enough to see what’s been right in front of him the whole time.
He sees me now.
And I see him too.
The first time I ever looked at Jimmy Baker, I knew he was going to ruin me.
I just didn’t know being ruined by him would feel this much like peace.
Turn the page for a sneak peek of Landon…