Page 74 of Jax & Knox

Jax pulls up beside us, killing the engine and swinging off his bike in one smooth motion. He's wearing worn jeans, work boots, and a faded black t-shirt that clings to his chest and arms in ways that make my mouth go dry. Knox is dressed similarly, his shirt already damp with sweat even though we just got here.

They look good.

Too good.

"Come on," Jax says, opening my door and offering me his hand. "Let's get you and the little man set up."

They've already thought of everything. There's a pop-up shade tent near the tree, a cooler full of water and snacks, a blanket spread out on the grass for Owen to play on. I settle down with Owen on my lap, watching as the brothers move to the back of the truck and start unloading equipment.

The job site is a large residential property, a sprawling lawn, flower beds that need reshaping, a stone pathway that's being installed. The homeowner, an older woman with kind eyes, greets them warmly and walks them through what she wants done.

I watch, fascinated.

This is a side of them I haven't seen before.

At Perdition, they're bikers, dangerous, commanding, protective. Here, they're businessmen. Professionals. They listen carefully to the homeowner's requests, ask clarifying questions, make suggestions that she clearly appreciates. They're respectful, competent, confident.

And they're good at what they do.

Knox takes the lead on the technical side, measuring out the pathway, marking where the stones will go. His movements are precise, methodical, every detail accounted for. Jax handles the client-facing side, charming the homeowner with easy conversation while still getting the work done.

They work in sync, like they've been doing this together for years.

Because they have.

I watch as Knox kneels down to level the ground, his muscles flexing under his shirt. I watch as Jax lifts a heavy stone like it weighs nothing, setting it carefully into place. I watch as they move around each other with practiced ease, communicating with looks and gestures more than words.

They're not just dangerous bikers.

They're skilled craftsmen.

They've built something real here, a legitimate business, a reputation in the community, respect earned through hard work and competence.

And God, it's attractive.

Owen babbles beside me, playing with his toys, oblivious to the way my heart is pounding in my chest.

I'm falling for them.

Not just physically, though that's definitely part of it, but completely . I'm falling for the way they take care of me and Owen. I'm falling for the way they've made me feel safe for the first time in years. I'm falling for the way they look at me like I'm the only woman in the world.

I'm falling, and I don't know how to stop.

By the time we're driving home, the sun is starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in golden light.

Owen is asleep in his car seat, exhausted from playing all day.

I'm in the passenger seat of Knox's truck again, but this time, the air feels different.

Charged.

Jax is riding behind us, and I can feel his presence even though I can't see him.

Knox's hand is on my thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my jeans.

"You were so good today," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Sitting there, watching us work. Looking so fucking pretty."

I swallow hard. "Knox⁠.”