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Chapter Five
Jessa
"I missed the hell out of you, rabbit," Jax says, running his hands through my hair. We're laying on the couch, cuddled up together. He keeps kissing me, almost as if he's got thousands of them stored up inside and they're all bursting free now. I don't mind. Kissing him is already my favorite thing to do.
Ruby is curled up on my hip, deep in a food coma.
"I missed you too," I confess, guilt twisting through me. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like I should have been." I know he's not mad at me for it, but I still feel badly. I was trying so hard to save myself pain that I hurt us both in the process. Hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do.
"Shh," he croons, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Don't be sorry. Just be here with me now."
"Okay," I agree. There's nowhere else I want to be. He's so warm, so strong. I don't know how it's possible to feel so much at once, but with him, I always feel like a powder keg of emotion just waiting to explode. I love him in a way that's permanent, immutable.
If I never saw him again, fifty years from now, I would still love him exactly the same. He's a piece of me, like a part of my soul resides inside him. I don't know if soulmates are real or if it's just wishful thinking on the part of humanity but lying here in his arms…I'm not sure there is another word for what he is to me.
Knowing he feels the same is…wow. There's no word for that either. It's Christmas morning and Halloween night and my birthday and heaven and nirvana all at the same time. I've had exactly two big dreams in my life. The first was to become a psychologist and to help kids in school the way the psychologist at my school helped me after my dad died when I was eight. The second was this. Jax. Us.
"How many kids do you want?"
"Jax," I whisper, fidgeting.
"No, rabbit. Listen to me," he says, and then waits until I settle down to speak again. "I said a lot of shit that night because I was angry and hurting. Giving you babies wouldn't be a hardship in any way."
"You don't want them though."
"I'm worried I'll fuck it up," he admits, his voice soft. "I didn't exactly have model parents. My mom let me believe my father was dead. My…Concord let me believe the same thing. The thought of fucking up a kid's life scares the hell out of me. But that doesn't mean I can't learn to be a parent."
"I think you'd be an amazing dad," I whisper. "You're such a good man."
He snorts.
"I'm serious, Jax," I say, emphatic. "You're going to be an incredible father. Any kid would be lucky to have you, and not because you're a billionaire but because you know what it's like not to feel love. You would never let your kids go through the same things you went through."
"I'd fight through hell to keep your babies safe."
"I know you would."
He touches my belly. "The thought of getting you pregnant is a hell of a turn on, baby. Seeing you grow with my baby, knowing I'm the one who put it in you…fuck," he growls, making me shiver.
I bite my lip to keep from moaning because I like the sound of that too. A lot. I think he knows it because his lips quirk up into a little grin.
"I want to take you out tomorrow," he says, bumping my forehead with his. "What time is your last class?"
"I'm out of class at noon, but I work until six," I murmur. "They pulled extra staff for the event tonight, so our schedules are all messed up this week."
"I'll pick you up when you get off then."
My stomach flutters with a combination of excitement and nerves. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
He growls his displeasure with my question. I swear, he says so much without even saying a word. He doesn't need them. His sounds tell you exactly what he thinks about any given subject, just the way my nose does for me.
"Settle down, growly pants," I mumble even though I think it's kind of sweet that he's all grumpy over me. No one has ever gotten grumpy over me before now. Well…maybe that's not true because Jax has been grumpy a lot. Especially anytime anyone brought up the subject of me dating. Not that I ever wanted to date anyone other than him. I always thought he was just being protective. I guess not. "I just mean that you're still my boss. Being discreet until my last day probably wouldn't hurt."
"We're not hiding."
"I'm not saying we should hide," I promise. "I'm just saying maybe we shouldn't flaunt it at work so it doesn't become a big thing with everyone."
"I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about us, baby. You're mine."
"Well, I care," I huff. "I don't want everyone to think I'm trying to sleep my way to the top." They'll probably think it anyway, but I'd rather not give them fodder. Especially if it means people thinking he's preying on me or something. It may be the twenty-first century, but power dynamics are still a sensitive subject. Too many men use their positions to get what they want from women who don't think they have another choice. This isn't at all like that, and I don't want anyone thinking it is.
"Baby," Jax says, chuckling. "You're leaving for grad school and a future in education. No one is going to think you're trying to sleep your way to the top of the company you're leaving in a matter of months."
"They might."
"If you're truly worried about your reputation, I'll agree to pick you up here," he says, tipping my chin up until our eyes meet. His are so somber, so serious. There are gold flecks in them. "But if you're worried about my reputation, don't be. I didn't ask for this job, rabbit. I didn't ask to be a billionaire or to take over Concord's company. And I'm not going to live my life afraid of the opinions of people who don't give two shits about me."
"People care about you, Jax," I whisper, reaching up to touch his bottom lip.
"Not these people," he mutters, scowling. "They're sycophants and gold diggers. The only thing they care about is the bottom line and currying favor. Trust me, Jessa. I don't care what they think about me. And if you're worried what they'll think about us, I'm going to spank your ass. They aren't worth the thought you're giving them."
"You really don't like them much."
"I like some of them. Several of them." His brows furrow. "Five or six of them."
I laugh quietly. "Only five or six?"
