Page 66 of Chasing Callie

But when I spot the familiar figure leaning against his truck, parked right next to my SUV, my heart does this stupid little skip that I’m not ready to analyze.

Jax straightens when he sees me, pushing off from the vehicle with that lazy confidence that’s always been his trademark. He tracks my movement, and there’s something in his expression that makes my pulse quicken.

“What are you doing here?” I call out, fishing my keys from my purse.

Behind me, Lily’s footsteps pause on the sidewalk. I glance back to see her wearing a knowing grin that makes heat creep up my neck.

“Have fun, Callie,” she sing-songs, waggling her fingers in a wave before disappearing around the corner toward her own car.

She doesn’t fool me. I know as soon as she shuts her door, she’ll be texting me, demanding all the dirty details. She’s probably already texting Aspen.

I turn back to Jax, who’s now standing directly in my path, arms crossed over his chest. The late afternoon sun catches the brown of his hair, making it look lighter, softer. It takes everything in me not to reach out and run my fingers through it.

“Why are you here?” I repeat, though my voice comes out more tired than demanding.

He searches my face with an intensity that makes me squirm. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The question catches me off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re looking at apartments.” He takes a step closer, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “Getting your own place.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, that’s generally what people do when they want to move out of their parents’ house.”

He grabs the collar of my shirt. Not rough, but firm enough to draw me toward him until there’s barely an inch of space between us. “Is that so?” His voice drops to that low, gravelly tone that always meant trouble when we were younger.

My pulse hammers against my throat. There’s something almost predatory in the way he’s looking at me, like I’m prey that’s wandered too close to the wolf’s den. But Jax doesn’t scare me, he never has.

“Yes, sir.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and the effect is immediate. Darkness flashes across his face like storm clouds rolling in, his grip on my shirt tightening slightly.

“You’re not living alone.”

The statement is delivered with such absolute certainty that it takes my brain a moment to process the words.

“Says who?” I counter.

“It’s dangerous.”

I chuckle. “Since when is Big Ridge dangerous?”

But Jax doesn’t share my amusement. If anything, his expression grows more serious, and suddenly his arms are wrapping around me, pulling me flush against his chest. The solid warmth of him makes my knees go weak, and I have to fight the urge to melt into him completely.

“You think I’m joking?” His voice is rough, possessive in a way that makes something deep in my belly clench with want. “You think I can stand the thought of you alone in some apartment with tourists and other men wandering around? Drinking, looking for trouble, looking for a pretty little thing like you to take advantage of?”

My mouth parts in surprise. Since when did he get this protective?

“If you want to move out of your parents’ house,” he continues, his arms tightening around me like he’s afraid I might disappear, “then you move in with us. With me and my brothers. Where we can keep you safe.”

The suggestion is so ridiculous, so completely insane, but so very Jax. “That’s crazy. I can’t⁠—”

Jax’s mouth is suddenly on mine, swallowing the words, the rest of my protest. His lips are warm and demanding, moving against mine with a hunger that makes my entire body come alive. My hands fist in his shirt, anchoring myself to him as he kisses me until my lungs burn for oxygen and my pulse races like I’ve run a marathon.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless and dizzy, my body warm and soft against his.

“Not as crazy as you make me,” he murmurs against my lips, that wicked smirk I know so well tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The taste of him still lingers on my tongue and my mind is hazed with lust-filled thoughts. Before I can form a coherent response, he’s pulling back, his hands dropping to his sides.