CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

"Do you do this every night?" Jax was sprawled on the couch, positive he hadn't been so tired in all his life.

Seven laughed. "Do what? Go to work? Pick my kids up? Feed them?"

"They never stop moving."

"True." She folded the kitchen hand towel in that way she did, once then twice. "You just got off a job, though."

He stretched his arm out. "I'm never tired after a job."

She took his hand, and Jax reeled her in. "Sounds like a load of macho crap to me."

"If there was any doubt that I didn't come here to have sex, I can barely move." He laughed. "Kids are hard."

"You've been here for half a day, Mr. Navy SEAL."

"You're a strong woman, Seven, and a really good mom."

She nestled against his chest. "You don't have to say that."

"Those kids, they think you walk on water."

"They didn't have much to compare to."

"Bianca mentioned something about that."

Seven sighed. "It's an ugly story for another time."

He ran his hand up and down her back, yawning. "No worries, babe." He pulled her close. "My mom, she's about as good as they come. I can tell you, you're a good mom."

Seven squeezed him. "I knew you weren't magically conjured into the world."

He closed his eyes, relaxing with her draped over him. Not even a day ago, he'd been halfway around the globe, hunting down a terrorist, and now he was relaxing before bed and…

 

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Seven blinked as Nolan bounced on her legs, and daylight spilled, urging her awake. The morning had come too soon, and she'd had the best dream. She could even still feel it. Feel him. Jax. His warm breath and sure hands. The scratch of dark scruff on his cheeks.

"Is she alive?" Bianca asked. "Her shoes are on."

Nolan giggled. "She's vwery bouncy."

Jax cleared his throat, shifting underneath her—and that wasn't a dream. Seven's eyes flew open, and she was nose to nose with Bianca.

"She's alive," Bianca announced.

"Is he?" Nolan asked, peering over her shoulder.

Oh God… "Yes," Seven whispered, trying not to panic as she best decided how to handle this monumental parenting fail. "Go to your rooms for a few minutes."

"Why?" Bianca asked, and Nolan bounced on Seven's legs for good measure.

Seven was ninety-nine percent sure that Jax was very much awake and playing dead, as if that was going to help anything.

"His hand is on your private part," Nolan reported as he jumped off the couch.

"What?" Seven tried to do a quick summary of her private parts. All were dressed and accounted for, but sleeping-Jax quickly moved his hand off her butt cheek. "Rooms. Now."

Both scampered quickly away, and she dropped her head against his chest. "Feel free to rescind any and all mentions of good mother references." She knocked her head on his hard-muscled chest before pushing up.

Jax opened one eye, trying to suffocate a laugh—or maybe that was what she wanted to do. "Don't play possum with me, Buster."

"There's that Buster again."

She dislodged herself from the warm embraced that had held her all night long, and Jax kicked his jeans-covered legs alongside as he stretched to sit up.

"Don't be too hard on yourself." He hooked an arm over her shoulder. "I'm not going to tell you it's not a big deal if you think it is or that it could've been worse. It wasn't what we planned."

A wave of awareness ran down her spine. He had said, "we planned." Did he have any idea what a huge deal it was for someone to take them into account? "Nope. It wasn't."

Jax pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "But it was the best sleep I've had in a while."

"Same." She rested her chin on his shoulder, falling for him faster than she could recall tumbling into an effortless sleep. "Can you stay for breakfast?"

"Yeah, then I have to head back to prep for Vegas." His body slouched as though reality had interrupted his thoughts. "You'll be there?"

Seven groaned at reality's buzzkill. "Wherever Hawke wants me, yup."

"Can we come back now?" Bianca called from the corner.

"Pwease?" Nolan sang.

"Forget I mentioned Vegas, and when I see you there tomorrow, we'll be at work like it's any other day." He lumbered off the couch, a yawning statute of muscles accented with morning scruff and sexy hair. "Okay, troops. Tell your mama to go back to sleep. Let's find food." Two sets of little feet ran toward the kitchen with excited screams. "You might get Pop-Tarts in bed, but we won't burn the place down." Jax winked then followed the thunder of feet and cabinet doors opening and closing. "Who knows where the coffee is hidden?"

If she had a rock, she would give it to him again and again.