Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
17
JAX
The room was dark except for the faint glow from the hall seeping under the door. Lark was curled against me, her cheek resting against my chest, her breath soft against my skin. Her hair tickled the underside of my jaw, that faint vanilla scent clinging to it, and I let myself breathe it in until my lungs felt like they belonged to her.
I stroked her hip absentmindedly, my thumb dragging over the smooth dip of her waist where the sheet had slipped low. My voice came out rougher than I intended, but the truth was sitting heavy on my chest, demanding to be free.
“I never wanted this,” I murmured into her hair. “Never wanted anyone to be mine. But now…” My throat worked. “I can’t understand how I’ve lived this long without you.”
Her head lifted, and the look she gave me was steady but soft, her light brown eyes warm and glassy in the dim light. She smiled softly before she whispered, “I love you, Jax.”
The words sank deep, tearing me open and piecing me back together all at once. My chest clenched so hard it hurt, but my mouth curved anyway. I tipped her chin up with two fingers and pressed my lips to hers, slow but firm, my voice vibrating against her mouth. “I love you, Lark.”
The second the name left me, I felt her hesitate. Just a flicker, her body going still and her eyes dropping like she was caught between two worlds. I frowned, pulling back enough to search her face.
“You want to go by Carly now?” My voice was quieter, careful. “Want me to call you that?”
Her expression softened, the hesitation falling away. She shook her head, dark brown strands brushing across my chest. “No. I don’t want to go back to my old life. Carly Nolan doesn’t even feel like me anymore.” Then her lips curved into a bright smile, the kind that hit like sunlight through storm clouds. “I’m Lark now. That’s who I am.”
“Okay, Lark it is then.”
She pushed up on her elbow, eyes shining with something fierce and free. “I’m going to make it legal. Change it for good.”
The words tightened something inside me. My hand slid up her back, anchoring her close, and I put my mouth to her ear, murmuring, “Lark Bishop has a nice ring to it.”
She froze. Then her mouth twitched, and her eyes widened in mock suspicion. “That a proposal?”
I smirked as I shifted out from under her and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The air was cool against my bare skin as I crossed to the closet. The wooden hangers creaked when I pushed them aside, my hand closing around black leather. On the way back, I pulled open the top drawer of my dresser, grabbed the small velvet box that had sat there since Kane ordered her cut, and turned toward her.
“You want a ring? I’ve got one.” I tossed the box onto the bed where it bounced once against the rumpled sheets. Then I lifted the vest, holding it so the patch on the back caught her eye. “But this means more.”
Property of Jax.
The room went quiet except for her gasp. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide and wet all at once.
“You want me to be your old lady?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
I nodded, heat roughening my voice. “Old lady. Wife. Mother of my kids. Everything.”
Her expression twisted into a teasing frown, even as her eyes sparkled. “Does that mean you’re going to wear a Property of Lark patch?”
A sharp laugh barked out of me, real and light. “No. But I’ll wear a ring.”
Her pout was instant, her bottom lip jutting out, and I laughed harder, shaking my head. “How about I get a Property of Lark tattoo instead?”
She squealed, the sound bursting out of her like she couldn’t contain it, and then she launched herself across the bed straight into my arms. Her body collided with mine, warm and soft, and I caught her easily, pulling her tightly against me as her mouth crashed into mine.
The kiss was hungry, all teeth and tongue, but then it softened, lingering as if neither of us wanted to come up for air. Her hands fisted in my hair, her breath mixed with mine, and I let her feel everything I couldn’t put into words.
When we finally broke apart, she was breathless, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. The vest was still dangling from my hand, and I slid it over her shoulders. The leather was stiff and new, the weight of it settling around her frame like it had been waiting for her.
I tugged the zipper up and smoothed it over her chest, my hands lingering at her waist. Her eyes dropped to her name stitched over her left breast, then back to me, her smile brighter than the damn sun.