A/N: Chapter 14 is here at last! Thank you for sticking with me during my hiatus, and you can look forward to new chapters coming every Friday. Things will certainly pick up soon and will deviate from the show. Please let me know what you think.
I'll keep an eye out for any questions/comments so please don't be afraid to comment or DM me, I don't bite
😉.
*Jax*
My eyes practically flew out of their sockets at the sight of a distraught looking Cameron Hayes alongside Jimmy O'Phelan and three of his guards at our front door. The same Jimmy O, who gave Chibs the scars on his face, through whom we buy our guns and the face of the True IRA.
Considering he lives in Ireland and lurks in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the feds, it was a rare opportunity to deal with him face-to-face. Even when we had to deal with him, he called and set up a meeting. So imagine my surprise when I saw him at my front door staring at my ol' lady as if she was an "all you can eat" buffet.
"Why are you here?" I questioned through gritted teeth as I pulled Andy behind me, shielding her from the Irishman's line of sight.
Just as I spoke, Cameron stepped next to Jimmy, his hands raised peacefully, "Dey're 'ere because I called dem."
Andy spoke from behind me before I could ask why, "If you're gonna talk to 'em, let 'em the fuck in, I don't want the neighbors to recognize the IRA at our door. We're practically asking to be thrown in prison." Clay and Gemma grunted in agreement.
Although I didn't want to let them into my house where my ol' lady and son live, a place not used to do club business, I had no choice but to step aside and gesture for them to come in with one hand, while the other possessively tugged Andy into my side.
As he was the last to enter, Jimmy flashed me a devilish grin before winking coyly at Andy while stalking by, following the others into the kitchen. As I was about to close the door, I heard the rumbling of familiar motorcycles in the distance. I stick my head out the door, staring in the direction from which the sounds come, to watch Tig, Chibs and Opie barrel up the street and into my driveway.
Wonderful, Chibs will have a fit when he lays eyes on Jimmy, and Andy will lose it when she lays eyes on Tig. It's lookin' to be a long night, as if it hadn't been long enough already.
As they all parked and bounded the steps, I stepped back with Andy still latched in my grasp and let them shuffle in. "Jackie-Boy, something wrong wi' yer phones?" Chibs was the first in, and as soon as he noticed the frustration burning in my eyes, he glanced at Andy, who fisted the back of my shirt.
"It was a private dinner, we had pressing matters to discuss," Andy replied in a low-growl, pinning him with her eyes, seemingly pissed at everyone's intrusive behavior. "So help me god, if y'all's club shit wake that baby up." Although she hadn't verbalized a threat, it was clear in her tone she wouldn't tolerate any raucous from them.
Chibs was shocked, and all he could do was stare at Andy with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Opie stepped around him and pulled Andy in for a hug while Tig closed the door behind him.
Tig, oblivious to Andy's hatred for him, strolled up to her with a shit-eating grin. "What's up your ass, Andy?" He joked, but it only made Andy angrier.
"Fuck off," she told him, before stalking off and joining my mother in the living room, far away from everyone else.
Chibs turned to me with concern in his eyes and asked, "Jackie-Boy, whit's wrong wi' her?"
"Yeah, what'd you do to my cousin?" Opie threw in, his tone playful, but the threat was clear in his eyes that if I had done something, I wasn't getting away with it.
Shaking my head in despair, I met all their eyes with a serious expression. I tilted my head towards the kitchen and said, "You'll see," before leading them to our "visitors." The kitchen was quiet, as was the rest of the house until we entered.
Chibs was uncomfortable when he saw Jimmy O sitting at my kitchen table drinking with Clay. "Whit th' hell is he daein' 'ere?" The Scotsman shouted in hatred and anger, jutting his finger in the direction of his enemy.
Turning to the side with a scowl planted on my face, I placed a rough hand on Chibs' shoulder and said, "Chibs, if you wake my son up and piss my ol' lady off, I'll beat your ass."
With a nod from Chibs, I moved away to peek into the living room to see Andy glaring at her laptop screen while my mother tried to calm her down. I had to get everyone out of here before she blew her top. When I refocused my attention on the intruders, I demanded answers: "Now, other than Clay and my mom, why has everyone decided to show up to my house at this ridiculous hour?" I asked, earning a disapproving glare from my President, which I leveled with an expression that said: 'fine, I'll shut up'.
Jimmy raised a hand with a light smile as I sat opposite of him. "If you'd let me get a wahrd ooeht to explain why we're 'ere, dat wooehld be wahnderfoehl," he stopped as Chibs sat to my left, glaring daggers at him, I motioned for Jimmy to continue as I leaned forward.
Jimmy continued with his arms out and palms forward to Chibs in ceasefire: "Now joehst to clarify we dedn't comb 'ere lookin to cause trooehble wit you, Chibs. No, Cameron called oehs." He nodded to Clay, "It seems we 'ave a cahmmon enemy: Ethan Zobelle."
Clay leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, "What are you talkin' about?
"Aye, if ye guys wid hae hud th' news oan, ye wid kno tha' Polly Zobelle offed Edmund Hayes to'nicht. We tried cawin a' o' ye thoosans o' times bit whin ye didnae answer we cam as soon as we cuid tae tell ye." Chibs spoke in a much quieter tone. "She teuk aff afore th' feds cuid catch her. She's hiding somewhere."
Leaning forward and swiping a hand down my face, I look at the people at the table. "Ho-ly shit," I whispered in shock, before Clay slammed a fist down on the table in anger.
Snarling, he growled, "They come to our town and go after our people. Not only did they fuck over the IRA, but they also messed with the wrong damn club."
Tig, sitting on the table instead of in a chair, shifted sideways to look Clay in the eye with raised eyebrows. "What's the game plan?" He crossed his arms over his chest with steady eye contact.
"Retaliation. We hit them with everything we got." Our president answered without even thinking of the possible blowback, not only for the club, but also for those we consider family.
Leaning forward, palms on the table, I began to reason with him: "Look, I'm all for revenge. But," I met Clay's dark glare before glancing to the others, "with Stahl and the rest of ATF sniffin' around - not to mention Deputy Hale - we have to play it safe and smart so it doesn't turn bloody like 92."
Noticing movement out of the corner of my eye, I turn to see Clay shifting in his chair clearly unimpressed with being challenged. When I looked down, I noticed his hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He'll probably regret that later. Which, to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for him. Clay must have noted where my gaze was because his hands soon shot under the table onto his lap, hidden from anyone else potentially spotting them.
Clay snarled, clearly not caring for anyone but himself, and perhaps hoping to impress our guests. "If it gets bloody like '92, so be it, I'm the one with the gavel, I call the fuckin' shots for this club. I want blood." It's clear he wants revenge, and nothing else will do until blood is shed. Trying to talk him out of it was like talking to a brick wall.
With clenched fists, I sat back in my chair while Clay stared me down and silently taunted me to talk back. As I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from diving over the table and beating him to a bloody pulp on my kitchen floor, the taste of blood filled my mouth. The only reason I didn't was because Abel was asleep and Andy would be so pissed if I woke him up. Then I'd be sleeping at the clubhouse forever.
"Clay, let's not wake Abel or poke the bear named Andy, because she seems to have calmed down." Tig whispered humorously, only for his eyes to grow wide out of fear a moment later when Abel began screaming.
The clock on the wall read 11:50 p.m.
Goddamnit.
Believe me when I say, I jumped out of my chair in a flash and smacked Tig on the back of his head, violently growling. As he jumped off the table, I backed him into the edge of the kitchen island and got in his face. "You fuckin' dumb-ass," I spat at him before turning just in time to see Andy throwing me and all the others, her signature death-glare as she stormed down the hall. If looks could kill, we would all be 6 feet under at that point.
Now, since Abel was awake, I let my anger rise to the surface and turned to Clay with an angry glare and a tone to match. Jutting a finger at him, I said: "Clay, we're not even in church... we're in my goddamned kitchen in my house." Clearly, my anger got the best of me as I shouted the last bit so loud I could feel the veins in my neck popping out, and I'm sure my face had turned red.
"Jackson," my mother chastised from the living room as Andy made her way into the kitchen with an unhappy Abel on her hip.
Everyone grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Uncertain whether it was due to my sudden outburst or the glowering gaze Andy threw around as she yanked the fridge open - I assume the latter, seeing as how they all avoided her gaze with heads downcast to the table like children in trouble.
With a bottle of formula in hand, Andy slammed the fridge door when Abel began to wail. "It's okay, baby," Andy spoke softly as she bounced him on her hip while she went to the microwave, smashing the buttons with a vengeance, to heat his meal. "It's okay."
"Andy," my mother called to her when the microwave sounded, "Bring Abel to me and I'll feed him so you can work on cleaning up." Andy said nothing and avoided our gazes as she removed the bottle from the microwave and rounded the table, shoving past Tig and I as she left.
With a defeated sigh, I leaned against the wall next to the kitchen archway and next to Opie when Andy returned to the kitchen moments later, tight-lipped and expressionless to finish clearing the table as best she could.
"I'm sorry, lass," Chibs stood from his chair to allow her room.
Although her back was to me, I knew, only by how her shoulders shook with silent laughter, that Chibs had entered dangerous territory with her, where he had - until now - been lucky enough to have never crossed paths with.
"Sorry? For what?" she goaded out, stacking dirty plates after dirty plates, each with more force than the last. "You're not the one that fucking woke my son up… Just," she lifted her hands off the plates and held them up while shaking her head. "You know what, forget it. Just act like I'm not here, like I'm not cleaning up, and continue with your precious business."
When she lifted the dishes from the table and took them to the sink, Chibs turned to me with a pleading look in his eyes, to which I simply lifted my hands and shook my head. Nope, he was alone on this one.
Chibs, never to cower from anything, didn't disappoint. He stepped next to her, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the counter as she began filling the sink. "Ya need help, Luvvie?" He offered, using the nickname he had given her, and with some hesitation put a hand on her shoulder.
Andy ripped her shoulder from his grasp and snapped her head in his direction with a snarl. Anger burned within her eyes, which sent a chill down my spine. She was definitely pissed
"No. Go." she growled, jutting her chin towards the kitchen archway.
Chibs, who had never suffered her wrath, tucked his imaginary tail between his legs and scurried towards the exit. Before he left, he clapped my shoulder. "Sorry, Jackie-Boy," he muttered below a whisper, so she couldn't hear before he rushed from the kitchen and out the front door.
Opie cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. I could tell by looking at him that Andy's cold demeanor made him uncomfortable. He knew, as well as I did, that Andy could lash out at any moment, and it wouldn't be pretty for anyone. So I was extremely grateful that he spoke up.
"Guys, we should take this to the clubhouse."
With a spine-chilling laugh, Andy turned around and had Opie in her sight. "That's a fucking marvelous plan." She threw out with mirthless sarcasm and turned to everyone with her index finger toward the door, "get the hell out of my fucking house."
Clay and Tig - hell, even Cameron and Jimmy's three guards - knew better than to utter a word to Andy and bolted for the door. Jimmy, however, considered himself untouchable and menacing because he was the face of the IRA, thought he could say and do anything to anyone without facing consequences.
Andy was obviously no exception.
Her bravery to stand up to men of power clearly impressed Jimmy, and I suspect he wanted to properly introduce himself. So he stood up from his chair, smoothed his suit and, with a flash of approval in his eyes, sauntered to the sink where Andy was washing dishes and gently tapped on her shoulder. Considering how he had never met my ol' lady before to know that she was not scared of anyone - no matter who they were - was sure as shit just about to meet his maker.
And you bet your ass Opie and I shared an amused glance, leaned against the wall, crossed our arms over our chests, and turned our gaze to watch the scene unfold before us in the kitchen.
"I'm sahrry fahr de intrusion, dear, it was an oehrgent matter to descoehss. We dedn't mean to cause a ruckus and wake yooehr cheld."
With a blank expression and a short sideways glance at us, Andy whipped around to Jimmy O so quickly that I'd be shocked if she didn't get whiplash. Shoving a soaking wet finger against his chest, she looked up, leveling him with a glare.
"I don't give a flying fuck what urgent matter you had to discuss, it's midnight. Whatever club business you have to discuss is to be handled in the clubhouse. In. The. Morning."
Jimmy, hands raised in submission, gave her a curt nod. "As I said, I'm sahrry fahr de intrusion. It wahn't 'appen again."
Opie and I were fighting the urge to keep our laughter at bay, and witnessing Jimmy pale made it ten times harder.
"It better not, because if you ever show up uninvited to my house again IRA or not, I'll put a bullet between your eyes," she said as she backed away, removed her finger from his suit, only to point it to the door before turning back to the dishes in the sink, "now get the fuck out of my house."
Jimmy, lost for words, and bruised pride, adjusted his tie, turned around and headed for the door. With a nod to us, he said "Meet you at the Cloehbhouse," then left. Opie and I no longer had the strength to contain our amusement and buckled over in laughter.
"Holy shit, I think you scared Jimmy O shitless," Opie shouted in laughter.
Unamused by us, Andy slammed the glass plate she was drying in the sink. "Get the fuck out, Ope."
The harshness in her tone set us straight. Opie sobered first as it was directed at him, and like a child in trouble ambled to her with slumped shoulders. "Sorry, Andy," he mumbled as he put a hasty kiss on the back of her head, before throwing me a "fix this" glare when he left.
After a few moments of tolerable silence, standing in the kitchen with Andy aggressively putting dishes away, I pushed myself off the wall and strolled up and stood behind her. "I'm sorry," I whispered from an inch away with an arm nuzzling her shoulder.
Seeming to bring her back to reality with my apology, the tension in her shoulders released as she turned to me, drying her hands on her shirt, and rested them on my chest. "It's not your fault that the IRA welcomed themselves to our home, Jax. I just wish, for one night, there wouldn't be any club business."
Bringing her to my body in a tight embrace and swaying her in my arms, I kiss the top of her head. "I love you, and I'm so sorry, Darlin', I promise to make it up to you."
"Don't forget, you have some time off." I added, remembering our conversation from this morning. "Maybe take a day to yourself and relax? I'm sure Gemma would be willing to keep Abel."
Shaking her head, Andy pulls away. "No, I want to spend time with him while I have time off from work."
Feeling my prepay buzz in my pocket, I pull it out to view a text from Opie, "Clay said 2 b here n 15" and look to Andy with apologetic eyes.
Andy eased herself up on her tip-toes and kissed my lips. "Go, deal with the Irish. We'll be fine." She assured me before forcing me to turn around, and with a light shove towards the door.
"You gettin' ready to head to the clubhouse, baby?" My mom asked from her spot on the couch with Abel in her arms.
"I am," I tip my chin towards her as she stood to hand Abel off to Andy.
Andy whispered something to Gemma before turning to me, saying, "Before you go to the clubhouse, follow after your mom, make sure she gets home safe, since she has too much pride to actually ask," earning a light slap on the back of her head from my mother.
"Yeah, I can do that." I say before wandering over, placing kisses to both Abel and Andy's forehead while mom gathered her things.
After hugging Andy and telling Abel her goodbyes as Andy headed down the hall, mom turned to me with a slight frown, "I'm ready, don't want to be the reason you're late to church."
Draping my arm around her shoulders, I guided her out the door, "don't worry 'bout it, someone's gotta make sure you get home safe since your husband sure as hell didn't."
-Clubhouse, 1:30 a.m.-
The Clubhouse was empty, save for the few prospects who had passed out on the furniture. As I strode past half-sack, I stopped and smacked his feet. Once he woke and sat up, I told him, "Go to mom's house and sit with her until Clay gets home," then stalked off towards the chapel doors.
Knowing the club was already in church with Jimmy O and Cameron Hayes, I opened the door and felt the eyes of everyone on me. The scowl of disapproval on Clay's face, directed at me, didn't go unnoticed, as I closed the door behind me and trudged to my seat next to him, never faltering or cowering to him.
Clay eyes followed as I sat down and threw him a casual, tight-lipped smile. "It's about damn time," Clay grumbled under his breath, so only I could hear.
No longer up for his dick-headed attitude tonight, I twisted my chair sideways with my feet to stare at my president. "Sorry," I spoke, my voice louder than his, so everyone could hear, "I had to make sure my mother, also known as your wife, got home safely. Didn't want to risk Zobelle attacking her again, you know?
Everyone in the room straightened their posture and looked straight at us in confusion. "Again?" Tig asked, shifting his gaze between me and Clay with wide eyes, before settling on Clay. "What happened?"
Shifting his eyes back to me, his eyebrows lowered, Clay bared his teeth, "well, if our VP here would let me talk," and with a tight-lipped smirk, he jutted his chin toward me, "making a habit of that tonight aren't ya?"
With a one-sided shrug, I relax in my chair, cross my arms over my chest and puff my cheeks. "You want to tell them, or should I?"
"I'll tell them." He narrowed his eyes at me before switching his asshole demeanor to his presidential act, because it was an act he has no idea what he's doing, and folded his hands on top of the table. "On the night of Bobby's homecoming party, Gemma didn't wreck her car. Zobelle had his daughter Polly follow her in a gray van. When they came to a stop sign, the bitch came out and acted as if her child was choking... My wife, bless her kind heart, went to the rescue, only to be knocked out. When she woke up, she was chained to a fence in an industrial building where Zobelle had Weston, and a few guys beat and raped her. They told her to send a message: 'Stop selling guns to n***er's and wetbacks,' and if we didn't, they would find her and do it all over again. Unser found her and Andy crashed her car into a road divider to give her an excuse for her injuries."
The chapel was silent for a moment as everyone processed the news and put everything together.
"That's how come she's bin sae jumpy." Chibs spoke first, followed by Tig.
"And why she reacted the way she did at CaraCara a while back,"
"And why Andy has a broken nose." I added. "She walked up behind Ma yesterday and spooked her. Ma elbowed her in the face."
"Jesus, why didn't Gem just tell us?" Bobby asked somberly as he leaned forward with his elbows on the table and buried his face in the palms of his hands.
"Apparently, according to Andy, she didn't want to play into their plans to get me or Clay to do something rash. And before you all get pissed she and Unser knew this the entire time and didn't say anything, just know they kept quiet out of respect for my mom. Andy has really stepped up to help Gemma since it happened." I told them, "I should also mention it was Polly who ran Andy off the road."
"Jesus Christ," Opie and Piney mumbled in unison. If it wasn't such a serious situation I'd chuckle at the father-son duo voicing the same thing.
Nodding quickly, I tap my fingers at the table: "This type of shit doesn't happen in Charming - our mere presence should be sufficient enough to prevent this. This is the type of shit people fear because they know the club will come down on them in revenge... But Zobelle and AJ obviously misjudged how much we want them dead and that we will not give in to their demands. They're becoming desperate and pretty soon things will escalate. We need to be careful when and how we retaliate."
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, apart from Clay sitting at the head of the table, white-knuckling the arms of his chair. If I didn't know any better, I'd guess Clay was upset about Gemma… but I did know better. Clay was doing everything to keep from flipping shit in front of the Irish, so they wouldn't sense tension between the President and his VP. That wasn't a good impression for the "man in charge."
A few moments later, Opie glanced over his shoulder to Jimmy, who was observing from a corner in the Chapel. "Edmund died just a few hours ago, and Cameron called you as soon as it happened. Traveling from Belfast to Charming takes about 11 hours… So how were you at Jax's before us?"
Interesting question, Ope.
Jimmy stepped up to the table, meeting all our eyes. "Aye, I was already 'eadin stateside fahr me meetin' yooehr cloehb president. Regardin de shepment fahr next mahnth."
Well, it was not only a slap to the face for me, but also for the rest of the club. "We weren't aware that we were picking up a shipment, especially since the ATF is hot on our tail." I voiced through gritted teeth and snapped my head in Clay's direction with a scowl that was firmly planted on my face. "Kinda, something that needs a vote, don't ya think, prez?"
This is the kind of shit that ruins a club, and Clay seems to be doing significant work in that department lately.
Opie clapped a hand at the table and met Clay's gaze, "I'm with Jax on that," he said as Piney, Chibs, Juice, Happy, and Bobby grunted in agreement. "Why weren't we involved in such an important decision?"
"Yeah," Juice agreed. "Isn't that why we call for church? So we can vote."
Clay leapt to his own defense, as no one else was. "We're runnin' low on cash, porn pussy only brings in so much… I made the decision on behalf of this club."
Bobby raised a hand and signaled he had something to say. "Clay, I'm with Jax and Ope, you should have brought it to the table for a vote. We are a democracy, we make decisions together - it's not just your place to make these kinds of decisions for the club. You blindsided us, man."
Before anyone else had the opportunity to speak out, Piney added his opinion with a sly remark: "It's not the first time he's made decisions for the good of the club without us knowing, and it's certainly not the last."
That remark was double-sided, and the others were not clued in on what the old man was trying to say, but I was, 'Your last decision got Donna killed.' and Judging by the glimmer of anger in Clay's eyes, he was clued in too.
"Fuckin' pardon me," he shouted full of sarcasm, slamming his fists on the table in frustration. Hunching his shoulders with an exhausted breath, Clay relented, "Alright, we'll vote on the matter later. But at the moment," he jammed a finger on the table, "we have to get back on track to retaliation. Can we at least agree on that?" We all nodded and went to business.
"Earlier, as we waited for Jax to grace us with his presence, I had a chat with Unser. Zobelle and Weston are lying low, likely with Polly. PD went to impeccable smokes and his place to talk to him about his daughter, and they were gone..."
*Andrea*
-6:30 a.m.-
Consciousness swept over me, along with the intro to "Sweet Child O' Mine" and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. Curiosity ate at me as I climbed out of bed and wandered down the hall where I was met with an adorable sight.
Abel was giggling up a storm from his high chair, watching his dad, who was unaware of my presence, dance along to the beat of the music. Jax, with his bare back to me, was at the stove cooking breakfast, dancing to the music.
Not wanting to ruin the moment between father and son, I stepped out of view and my heart melted when Jax began singing off-key, "She's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky. Now and then when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place and if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry - Yeah, that's how your mom makes me feel."
Butterflies fluttered from my stomach to my heart and nearly knocked me on my ass. Jax is always a sweetheart to me, but what he was doing now was the real him when nobody was watching. And I couldn't help the courage that made me jump into the kitchen, and instead of teasing Jax - I went to Abel and sang the next part with him:
"Whoa, oh, oh, oh sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh sweet love of mine."
Jax, caught up in the moment, surprised me when he pulled my back against his chest, pressed his mouth against my ear, murmuring: "She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place, where as a child I'd hide and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by."
With his body still pressed against my back, Jax gently swayed us to the song. Then he put his hands on my shoulders and gently squeezed them before pushing his hands down my arms to connect our hands.
Linking his fingers with mine, his head perched on my shoulder, giving my cheek a soft kiss before his focus turned to the giggly baby sitting in front of us. Jax began to sway us faster, swinging our arms in random directions, both still singing along to the song - of which I'm sure we've heard well over 100 times. I'm sure to anyone watching us, we look crazy, but for us it's worth looking strange to outsiders if it made Abel laugh like this.
Jax releases my hands to spin around to slightly increase the radio volume. Then he returns to me and flashes his famous grin as he takes hold of one of my hands and pulls me behind him. Once again, he begins to swing our joined hands in the air, waving his other in a similar motion, and leading us to circle around Abel's high chair.
He rubs Abels head softly, and I kiss it as we move around him. As soon as we are back in front of him, we both see Abel waving his arms clumsily and trying to imitate us. Glancing at each other with a smile, we each grab one of his hands gently waving them around, including him in our ridiculous movements to the classic rock song playing through the house.
As the song approaches the end, Jax lets go of Abel's hand, prompting me to do the same before he leads us back into the kitchen. He grabs my hands again and takes the lead to spin and sway us around the kitchen, kissing me now and then. The end verse begins to play, and he dips me over his arm and presses a kiss on my lips, which is so full of passion and love it weakens me to the knees. His grip tightens on me, as he certainly feels my weight drop a little more on his arm - which still supports me thankfully, otherwise I would definitely be on the floor. The song begins to fade as he slowly pulls me back into a standing position, our foreheads coming to rest together, both of us slightly out of breath from dancing.
Hearing Abel squeal and bang on the highchair table-top from excitement, I look over to him with a big smile on my face. With a quick glance to Jax, I see him sending Abel a cheesy grin too.
"Good morning, babe," I mumbled through a smile as I pushed up on my tiptoes to give my man a kiss.
Jax snaked an arm around my waist, pulled me flush against his body, deepening the kiss. My arms found their way around his neck, and a moan escaped me when he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled.
As if Jax forgot our little audience, he lifted me from the ground and my legs wrapped around his hips on impulse as he sat me on the kitchen counter. Just as he was about to put a hand between my legs to my core, Abel squealed.
With a breathy sigh, Jax pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. "Good mornin', darlin'," he chuckled as I untangled my legs from his hips.
As Jax stepped away from me to set the table, I jumped off the counter, turned off the radio, and then sat with Abel at the table. "Breakfast smells good."
"Thank you," he mumbled, and his neck turned crimson as if he were beginning to blush. "What's so funny?" he asked over his shoulder when I began to giggle.
I quickly forced myself to stop giggling, cleared my throat and leaned forward in my seat. "Jackson Teller, are you blushing?" He tensed his shoulders.
With a nervous laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck. "No, men don't blush," he said as he spun around with two plates in his hands.
"Mhm, sure they don't." I teased before turning serious as he ambled over and put a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of me. "You're embarrassed because you let your "manly" guard down?"
As soon as he pulled out his chair, he met my gaze. "You want something to drink?" he asked, deflecting.
Shaking my head "no" and gesturing for him to sit, he reluctantly sat. "But seriously, are you embarrassed or something?"
He was silent for a moment, clearly thinking of an excuse, and then met my eyes. "No, babe, just got hot from cooking and dancing," he said with a shrug, before turning his attention to his pancakes.
Bobbing my head in faux understanding, I rested my chin in the palm of my hand as I put my elbow on the table and stared intently at Jax, who was nervously cutting his pancakes. Probably thinking of another lame excuse.
"Your breakfast is going to get cold." He mumbles, not once meeting my eyes.
With a shoulder lift, I push the plate away from me to cross my hands in front of me. "Then it gets cold. I'm not eating until you talk to me, Jackson."
Jax puts his fork on his plate, sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "There's nothing wrong," his voice raises an octave, and his cheeks flush a light shade of pink, indicating he was indeed embarrassed.
My eyes narrowed to slits, and anger began to bubble in the pit of my stomach. "That's a pile of bullshit."
Running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, he meets my eyes. "Why are you pressing me? It's like you're wantin' to argue."
"You're the one who gets defensive. I'ven't raised my voice once," I pointed out, arching a curious eyebrow, tilting my head and leaning closer. "It's like you want to lie, just be honest."
His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Jesus Christ," he uttered. "Okay, I'm a little embarrassed about this morning," he admitted, his cheeks blood-red as his head fell towards his lap.
"Hey," I say in a reassuring tone, placing a finger under his chin and lifting up, forcing him to look at me. "This house," I raised my hands, gesturing toward the whole house before bringing a hand to rest on his cheek, "we share with our son. It's a safe space, Jackson, you don't have to bottle your emotions up here. If it's just us, together as a family and away from prying eyes of the club, it's safe for you to show emotions. It doesn't make you a weak man if you want to let loose and have fun with your family, it actually makes you a better man. A man I continue to fall more in love with."
A genuine, happy smile forms on his lips, and he closes his eyes, nuzzles his cheek into the palm of my hand, while raising his own to rest on my wrist. With a soft nod, he opens his eyes and meets mine. "I'll try to be better about not bottling my emotions, babe. I haven't been with a woman like this for a long time, so I don't know what to expect anymore." He shrugs, moves my hand from his cheek to his mouth, places loving kisses on my knuckles. "Plus, it's not like I'm surrounded by people who show real emotions or feelings other than anger, hunger, exhaustion, or arousal. Those are legit the only emotions I'm exposed to on the regular."
Rolling my eyes with a scoff, I retract my hand from him and move in my seat to the table. "Well, Jackson, expect to be loved daily and accepted for who you are outside the club. You don't have to hide from me. I want you. All of you," I smile wholeheartedly before finally pulling my plate to me and digging in.
Minutes pass and the conversation dies down when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Abel making grabbing motions towards my plate. Sitting my fork down gently, I nudge Jax's leg with my foot, and when he looks at me, I tilt my head in Abel's direction, so he can witness.
Jax flashes his son a smile, "hey, little guy, you finally wantin' some good food now? Wait… are four-month-olds allowed to have table food?" He asked me.
"No, about six months is when they can start though… which brings forward the topic… Instead of buying the cans of baby food when the time comes, I will buy the supplies and make him some baby food. I'd rather feed him baby food that I know doesn't have artificial stuff in it or taste like shit." I scrunch my nose in distaste and shiver.
Shoveling the last of his breakfast in his mouth with a laugh, he pushes his plate away as he swallows. "Does baby food taste bad?"
Mirroring his movements, I nod. "Oh yeah, it tastes gross, and with his heart condition," I add, jutting a thumb at Abel, "It's not a risk worth taking... it's best to know exactly what's in his food."
"A'ight," Jax bobbed his head in agreement, before resting a hand on my knee, "Say we buy all the food to prepare his meals, where do we store it?"
"Excellent question… that I already have a planned answer for." With a smirk, I place my hands over his on my knee. "If we got a small freezer and put it in the garage, I could cook his meals in bulk and freeze it. So we would have a bunch of food already prepared, and all we would have to do is grab it and heat it up."
Jax flashes me an approving smile before leaning back in his chair. "That's a great idea, babe."
Cocking my head to the side, I batted my eyelashes and threw him an Uber-sweet smile. "Could you ever be so kind and keep my plans to yourself and far away from your mother's meddling ears?"
His eyebrows quirk up in curiosity. "Why?" He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Because I want to do this alone for Abel, without having to worry that your mother will come in and bulldoze all my hard work. I'm Abels mom. I wanna do this for him and all the other things he'll need as he grows, and she needs to respect that, the choices made for him need to be made by us."
Jax just cracked up with laughter, his body shaking as he threw his head back before calming down to focus on me. "She isn't that bad, is she?"
"Yes, she is." I deadpanned, "I love her, I truly do… But, Jax, she always wants to be in control, and when she isn't -"
"It's World War Three?" Jax finishes my sentence, causing me to facepalm and nod my head with a grin.
"Jax, you should have seen her yesterday in the store when I went to buy groceries. She had me so pissed off that I wanted to punch her." I raised my head, removed my hand from my face to look at him, noticing my story fascinated him. "She kept questioning my choices, and then I caught her switching spices I chose with the ones she thought would be better."
I proved my point as he flashed me a carefree smile. "What did you do then?" He asked, tone full of amusement that reached his baby blues.
Resting my hands on my knees, I lean forward. "I told her ass to wait in the car if she didn't think I could take care of my ol' man and son."
His eyes lit up with bewilderment, and he shot straight up in his chair, slapping the table lightly. "You didn't?" He asked with disbelief.
A giggle eluded me, and I held my head high, "I did."
Shaking his head in disbelief, before tilting his head to take it all in, a shit eatin' grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I love you."
"I love you too," I say, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth as I stand from the table to gather the dishes.
Jax follows my lead, standing up from his chair to push it in. "And you're right, the choices made for him should be ours to make, and she needs to accept that. I'll keep my mouth shut about it, who am I gonna tell anyway? The guys catch me talking about that shit, I'll never hear the end of it." Jax tells me honesty and slight amusement clear in his tone.
"Looks like someone is getting sleepy." He tips his chin to Abel, who began to drift off in his high chair.
"Awwh, poor thing," I cooed, brushing a thumb against his cheek, "he must be beat from all the excitement."
Jax chuckles. "Probably," he said while removing the top of the high chair to lift Abel into his arms. "I'll change him and put him down for a nap," he told me before putting a kiss on my head before retreating down the hall.
With a content smile on my face and dirty dishes in my hands, I go to the sink and set them in. My phone starts to buzz from the island, so I pick it up and flip it open. I noticed a text from Gemma. "Remember, call your doctor for my medication," it read.
Sighing, I lean against the island, back facing the kitchen entrance, dial my doctor's number and place the phone to my ear.
"Dr. Karen Brown speaking." A sweet voice came from the other end.
"Hey, Dr. Brown, it's Andrea Winston, I was calling to see if you could write me a prescription?"
"Of course. What's it for, Andrea?"
Before I explain, I gaze to the ceiling and say a silent prayer, hoping Jax wasn't done with Abel, "I'm having trouble with dryness and getting aroused." Came my semi-hushed response. "I've been under a lot of stress lately and just want to have a wonderful night with my Ol' Man."
Sounds of light chuckling and keys clicking from a keyboard was all I heard before she finally spoke. "Of course, Andrea, it's never easy to take on the mother role to a child that isn't biologically yours, I respect you for that. I wish there were more women out there like you."
"Yeah, it is tough, but I wouldn't have it any other way." I politely responded. Oh, how I wish that was the reason I called, but it wasn't.
Dr. Brown cleared her throat. "I sent the prescription to the local pharmacy, you should be able to pick it up later… say around one?"
"Alright, sounds good, thank you!"
"You're welcome, have a great day," she said before ending the call.
Shutting my phone and placing it back on the island, I resumed my task at the sink and began washing dishes when Jax shuffled into the kitchen.
"Is it true?" His voice was full of uncertainty.
Oh, hell.
"I thought you were looking after Abel," I spoke in the hope it would change the topic
"Realized Abel was hungry, so came to get him a bottle... Don't change the subject, Andy. Is it true?" he presses again, slightly agitated.
Internally cursing myself for not waiting until he left to call my gynecologist, I shut off the water, wipe my wet hands on my shirt, and turn to face him, feigning ignorance. "Is what true?
Jax takes a hesitant step forward, his arms crossed over his chest. "That I'm not pleasing you properly in bed?" Insecurity flashed in his Arctic blue eyes, leaving him vulnerable and casting a wave of sadness to drown my heart.
The sadness lasted about a second before being replaced with disbelief as I shook my head in hopes I hadn't heard him right. "Wha- why would you think…?"
Consider me speechless, because I sure as shit was.
With a sharp breath, Jax strode to the table and sunk into a chair, resting his elbows on his knees in defeat. "Because it sure sounded like you were talking to your gyno about arousal and dryness issues… so, is it true?... Why are you laughing?"
I don't know what overcame me, but hearing the words gyno, arousal, and dryness come out so high-pitched by a man with such a deep voice had me screaming in laughter. "They're not for me... they're for your... mom... I'm just covering for her." I replied with laughter, which sent me sliding down the counter to the floor.
"Oh shit," he mumbles dumbfounded, and soon Jax's laugh fills the kitchen and drowns my own as he buckled over in the chair. He's clutching his stomach with one hand as he swipes tears from his eyes with the other. "My mistake."
"Yeah, your mistake, Jackson," I warbled out while wiping the tears from my eyes and composing myself.
Jax tips his chin in my direction with a cocky grin. "Of course they're not for you, my ol' lady wouldn't need anything like that," he shrugs, "at least not while she gets my dick on the regular," and grabs his crotch for emphasis.
Rolling my eyes as if to say 'seriously' as I hold a hand in front of me, "Calm yourself, you're getting a complex," I joke, throwing him a wink as he stands up from the chair and saunters to me, only to pick up a baby bottle from the dish drain and formula from the counter.
Jax was about to say something else when Abel's high-pitched cry filled the kitchen. "You might want to feed our son," I say through a toothy grin, while resting my back against the cabinet to look up at him as he makes a warm bottle and places it on the counter.
Extending a hand at him wordlessly, he takes my hand and pulls me into a standing position. Before I could move away, he took a possessive step closer and put his hands on both sides of me on the counter with hunger in his eyes.
My eyes went round as a yearning gasp flew from me, regarding the predatory glint swimming in his eyes as his face inched closer to mine. A warm fuzzy feeling traveled up my spine as desire spread between us.
"What are you doing?" I stammered, my voice cracking with lust as his lips hovered over mine.
With pupils dilated and a smile dancing on his lips, he drew his lower lip between his teeth before licking them. "You know," he said with a dark chuckle, turning my knees to jello and sending heat pooling between my legs, "I'm gonna call into T.M., tell em' I'm running late… and then I'm gonna prove to you, Andrea, that while we're together, you'll always," he removes his right hand from the counter to place it between my legs, barely grazing my core, "be wet and horny for me. You'll always be drippin' for me. Understand?" He rasps, groping me over the fabric of my panties.
My breath caught in my throat, and all I could do was nod my head. "So, in 20 minutes, after Abel is fed and asleep, I'm cashing in on our sex deal and expect you to be naked on the bed, waiting for me." He muttered while moving away from me, stepping up to the sink, washing his hands, and then grabbing the bottle before leaving the kitchen. Leaving me alone, to my own devices, gasping for air, sporting a blush and soaked panties.
A/N: I'm just going to warn you now, the next chapter update is going to be hot!