The hearty purr of the Cutlass' engine- a comforting, yet inadequate, substitute for the deep rumble of Jax's Dyna those first lonely months in Tacoma- stops abruptly as Tara switches off the ignition. She sits in silence a moment, uncertain at first just why she feels a bit off, adrift even, in the familiar parking space in front of her own apartment.
She's home right after her Thursday afternoon shift for the first time in weeks- since before she'd known Jax was here in Tacoma with her. They'd made their meetings in the park sort of a standing date, and she'd gotten accustomed to regular doses of the companionship, the affection, the comfort being in his presence had provided her. And now that the club has come calling and interrupted their routine for the first time since they'd begun re-establishing their relationship- however fragile it still is- she's finding that she's… She-
God, does she fucking miss him? After what, a few days of not seeing him?
Tara can't help but shake her head at herself, though it's more in amusement than disgust. Together- and further apart by heart and by mile than either of them cared to admit at the time- she and Jax had weathered years away from one another in elementary plus junior high and the beginning of high school, days to a week during countless runs for SAMCRO, and, of course, the most recent and most difficult separation forced by their own choices.
And yet, she has to admit that she'd rather be lying with her head on his belly in a park or sitting across from him in a diner than just about anywhere else on this earth.
Unfortunately, the club had needed him more than usual this week, what with the usual club business mixing with whatever preparations needed to happen for an MC wedding. Plus, he'd seemed to have a bunch of additional responsibilities necessitated by the groom-to-be being largely unavailable leading up to the wedding itself.
He'd made his apologies- profusely, actually- by phone every night this week, and then had needed to postpone seeing her once again when Lee had moved their regular church meeting to tonight to free up the weekend for the festivities. And she'd understood- especially after their argument last week had led them both to agree that he needed to make a good impression with SAMTAC.
But now, after spending every Thursday afternoon in recent memory with Jax only to find herself suddenly without plans, she finds herself both unsure what to do with her time and missing the boy who had once again become her everything.
Dammit.
Unlocking the door- and resisting the urge to sigh deeply- Tara's snapped out of her thoughts by an odd sound emanating from within her apartment. Not odd, she realizes as the door swings open, but unfamiliar for this time of day. The phone is ringing- and she knows Jax isn't the one on the other end of the line.
Who the hell could be calling?
Hurriedly, Tara drops her keys on her desktop and her backpack on the floor, then practically lunges for the phone just as it rings once again.
"Hello?"
"Tare?" The voice emanating from the phone is soft, sweet and altogether welcome in a moment when she's finding herself ridiculously lonely on a Thursday afternoon.
"Donna?" she chirps, excitedly, switching the phone to her other ear and flopping back on the bed. "I'm just getting home from work. Actually, you have perfect timing because normally, I'd still be-"
"Out with Jax?" Donna replies, slyly, "Up at the clubhouse? Making out under a damn tree like you always used to in high school? Am I getting warm?"
"Maybe…" Is all Tara can respond, and though she spares Donna the details that are even now cropping up in her mind's eye, she can't help the grin that's slowly spreading at the thought of him. Donna snickers and Tara can't resist changing the subject to something far more important- like this weekend's wedding, when she'll finally get to see her friend after a few months apart.
"So what time are you all heading out tomorrow morning?" Silence buzzes across the line, and for a moment, she thinks Donna hadn't heard her. "I mean, it sounds like the welcome party and barbecue is gonna start around six, but you know the club-"
"Angela already left- early this morning, actually. She wanted to get there this evening, surprise Kozik."
"Oh, okay…" But something in Donna's voice has Tara hesitating, uncertain. "Are you sure you want to ride all the way up here with Gemma? I mean, she still loves you, unlike me, but-"
"I'm not coming, Tara." Donna's sigh is heavy, and it seems to echo in the receiver a moment- then, she's continuing before Tara can manage a response. "I… I'm just not ready to go to a wedding, or watch the happy couple celebrate the years they plan to spend together. Not with Opie still locked up. I hope you'll understand-"
"Oh, Don- of course I understand," Tara reassures her, immediately, pushing down the sick feeling of guilt that at once begins rising in the back of her throat. "I'm so sorry I-"
"You don't need to apologize- this was my choice, and I'm feeling okay about it. Plus-" she's chuckling now, "Angela's already asked me a hundred different ways if I'm okay, and tried a hundred other ways to convince me it's alright to have fun, even with Opie in prison. But I just-" Donna clears her throat, appears to sober a bit. "I just… can't. Not this- not yet."
"I get it, I do. I just-"
"I have a busy weekend planned already, Tare, don't worry. I'm handling the clinic so Angela can get away for the weekend- and so she won't need to stress about Dr. Spencer having to keep an eye on the place. And then, I'm visiting Opie on both Saturday and Sunday, since I was out of town last weekend."
"The visit with your parents- how did that go?" Tara asks immediately, kicking herself for not calling and asking far sooner. God, she'd been so focused on this shit with Jax… And meanwhile, Donna's trip had conflicted with their own trip to visit Opie… And fuck if that doesn't reinforce her feeling that she's the worst friend ever-
"About like I expected," Donna's answering, the bitterness creeping into her voice the longer she talks. "They assumed I was coming there to stay- coming 'home' they called it, even though I've never even fucking been to Bakersfield, let alone lived there. Thought I'd have 'come to my senses' and left Charming, left Opie, by now. But they just don't get it- home isn't where they are- at least, not anymore."
"Oh, Don-"
"I guess what they don't realize is that blood isn't the only thing that makes you family, and a house isn't what makes a home." She continues, a hint of fierceness creeping into her voice, and Tara can't help but feel a strange mix of pride and sorrow for her friend. "I have a job, a place, a sort of family here- and even if I didn't, there's no way I'm gonna put another four hours between me and Opie. Charming is home- and it still will be when Ope gets out."
"You're a good, loyal person, Donna- Opie's lucky to have you." Is all Tara can say, again pushing away the guilt that comes creeping in whenever she thinks about Donna and Opie. Only this time, it's the guilt that comes with the knowledge that Donna's hanging in, staying in Charming with Gemma and the rest while Opie serves what could be at least a five year prison sentence- and what had she, Tara, done when asked to do the same?
"I know what you're thinking Tare- stop it."
Tara flinches. How the hell…
"You forget that I know you almost as well as Jax and Opie do. And whenever you get quiet like that, you're thinking too hard. And whenever you're thinking too hard, you're obsessing- over school, over the whole Jax situation, over me and Ope's... You two are different from Ope and I- Jax could've gotten his head straight at any time and actually talked to you about what needed to happen. And if he'd done that, then he'd have known that you and him- well, you could go anywhere."
"I know-"
"But he didn't," Donna continues, flatly. "It took you leaving to get him to realize he needed to get his shit together. And let's not forget that you needed the change just as much or more than he did."
"I guess that's true-"
"It is true. That's why leaving doesn't make you a terrible person, no matter what Gemma says. Like I said, a home is more than a house- and anywhere you and Jax can make it work? Well, that's home."
"We're not quite there, yet, but I think we're a lot closer." Tara responds, honestly. "To making it work, I mean. And Jax says he's asking for a transfer, at least until I finish my undergrad."
"
Good." Donna says, firmly. "I mean, don't get me wrong- I'll miss the shit outta you. But if Opie's bid has taught me anything, it's how important it is to be with the person you love when you can, because you don't know what tomorrow's gonna bring."
It's so much like something Opie had said last weekend, that Tara smiles. Can't help but nod along, even though Donna can't see her.
"I miss you too, sweetie. You sure you won't change your mind and come up this weekend? You could-"
"Spend twelve hours in a car with Gemma? That's not only a no, but a hell no. I mean, I picked going to prison over that torture." And they're laughing again, all the angst of their earlier conversation gone when Donna continues. "Plus, she's mad at me too. Thinks I'm being selfish for going to visit Opie instead of showing my face at this stupid wedding… or something."
"You're probably the least selfish person I know. And even if you weren't… I think you've earned the right to be selfish, just a little. You've been through a lot of shit" Tara pauses, then, coming to another realization that doesn't help her feel any less guilty.. "I guess I'm the selfish one, for wanting you to help protect me from Gemma all weekend."
"Maybe…But while we're being selfish, can I ask you to do something for me?"
"Anything, Donna, you know that." Tara agrees, readily.
"Thanksgiving's coming up next month and I know you'll have at least a few days off your classes, and hopefully work too. Will you come back to Charming? Please? Maybe Christmas, too?"
God… if there's a thought less appealing than spending a long holiday weekend in Charming, with-
"You'll have to rip the bandaid off with Gemma this weekend, at least," Donna reasons, as if she's read Tara's thoughts. "And by the time the holidays roll around, you'll probably be in a totally different place. Even if you aren't, you both are just gonna have to, I dunno, suck it up. For Jax's sake, at least." Tara sighs, knowing how right she really is. "Just… think about it, okay? And then talk to Jax, see what he thinks? I miss his bigheaded ass too."
"I'll think about it, you know I will." And that, Tara finds, is all she can manage to give her, because who the hell knows how this weekend is going to go? "You're assuming that Gemma isn't already plotting my death- you know that, right?"
"You're younger and faster. I have faith in you, Tare." And Donna snickers for a moment before interrupting herself once again. "Oh, shit! I forgot the whole reason I called. I'm supposed to tell you to meet Angela at the bed and breakfast she's staying at. She was gonna call you when she got there but she didn't think there would be enough time for you to get there before the guys get out of church. She said she wanted to ride over to the clubhouse together since she doesn't know where it is- she wants to surprise Kozik when they get outta church, I guess."
"Oh, okay." And just like that, her night's shaping up. God, why hadn't she thought about meeting Jax up at the clubhouse after church? Realistically, she supposes, it's because she'd never been invited up there before- hell, she hadn't even known where the SAMTAC clubhouse was before last weekend.
"I think she's a little nervous, to be honest. They're so cute, though- they remind me of us when we were all in high school, except they're already… I dunno- real. Solid, you know? Like, they give me hope for when Ope gets out, because they're making this work and so can we." And Tara does know- she knows exactly what Donna means because she's had that thought a hundred times, herself. Only now, she can't help but notice that the feeling of envy she once had when Angela talked about Kozik is gone. And in its place is that same note of reassurance Donna had found- that two very different people really could make it work in the Life.
"Okay, sweetie-" Donna's voice interrupts her thoughts. "As much as I want to hear all the dirty details about how things are really going with Jax, you need to get going if you're gonna be on time to meet Angela."
Shit, she's right, Tara realizes- it's already close to time for church.
"Besides, I'm sure there'll be all sorts of scandalous tidbits you'll need to share with me after this weekend. At least, there better be- it's a club function after all, and you and Jax have never been models of restraint." And as Donna gives her the address, Tara can't help but feel a jolt of sadness that this weekend, at least, wouldn't be quite the same without one of her oldest friends. But although she's not going to say it again- not going to let Donna second-guess herself any more than she already is- Tara's learned all too recently that the most important shit shouldn't go unsaid.
"I'll call you on Monday, okay? Love you, Donna."
"Love you back."
Angela, as it turns out, is nervous as hell. So much so that after Tara had knocked at the door of what's probably the cutest little B in Tacoma- and Angela had practically knocked her over with a hug, much like Kozik had almost a week ago- they'd barely made it inside before Angela had started pacing.
Tara just watches in amusement as her normally calm and put-together friend frets about every last detail regarding the upcoming weekend.
"-and even though we talk, like all the time, I still don't even really know anything about the Tacoma guys, what they're like. God, what if they're all like Tig?"
Tara snickers, settling back into the plush, flowered loveseat in the middle of the small living area.
"I met them last week, and they all seem… normal, at least for an MC. And don't sell yourself short- you handle Tiggy better than anyone except Gemma."
"That's another thing," Angela groans, shaking her head. "She's pissed at me, too- both for driving up here instead of riding with her and for not somehow forcing Donna to come along."
"You know Gemma- she'll be busy enough being reunited with her baby boy, and probably threatening me- to worry much about what you're doing." Tara scoffs.
"That's true, I guess…" Angela's voice trails off, then, as she slows to a stop in front of Tara, then eases down on the loveseat next to her. "I'm sorry- I know you have a lot more riding on this weekend than I do. With Gemma, for sure- it can't be a good feeling knowing you're going to have to face her soon." Resigned, Tara just shrugs. Really, it's all she can do at this point.
"I can't say I'm excited to see her, I guess. God, the woman makes me nervous as hell. But like Donna said earlier- at some point, we're both gonna have to suck it up." She eyes Angela, who is currently fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "But don't change the subject, Ang- I don't think it's Gemma or the guys that have you nervous." And from the way Angela slumps back into the seat, deflating just a bit and closing her eyes, she knows she's hit the mark.
"I guess I'm just a little nervous about seeing Herm after so long, you know? I mean, we've been apart before, for conferences and runs and stuff, and we talk all the time, like I said… But it's still there, you know? That uncertainty, that doubt that everything between us is still gonna be the same."
Tara smiles, then, more in commiseration than anything else because damn if she doesn't know how that feels.
"That's a normal feeling to have, I think. But the moment you see him, all the stress, all that worry? It'll be gone."
"For me, maybe. But what if he-"
"Oh please," Tara scoffs. "Kozik's crazy about you, you know that, right?" And as Angela's eyes meet hers once again- this time filled with hope instead of trepidation- Tara can't help but remember a similar look on Kozik's face as he laid out his plan to surprise Angela with some drink she'd mentioned offhand months ago. She shakes her head. "Trust me, sweetie, you don't even know how much."
Angela's soft smile is all the answer Tara needs. Then, she's sitting up, eagerly.
"So what about you? Forget Gemma, you ready to go to this wedding with Jax? As his old lady?" The sly grin that curls Angela's lips matches Tara's own, and she's chuckling before Tara can respond. "You told me you two had hashed things out- any reason you didn't mention that Jax practically announced to all of Tacoma that you're his old lady?" Tara shrugs.
"I guess it just feels like I always have been, you know?" And, she realizes as soon as she says it out loud just how true that is. These last few days after they'd finally aired out everything that had lingered between them had been different, somehow, even if they hadn't seen much of each other all week. There's a hope, a confidence that things will work out that hadn't been there before. And that's what has her more determined than ever not to let anything, not even Gemma, mess that up.
And then Angela's standing up, abruptly, fluffing her hair before stalking into the adjoining bedroom, evidently dead-set on some mission Tara can only wonder at. It becomes clear a moment later when she calls out from the other room.
"Come on, fellow old lady- help me decide what to wear so we can get on the road." And Tara finds that the prospect of meeting Jax at the clubhouse- on her own terms this time, and definitely as his old lady- holds a whole new appeal that has her hurrying to follow.
Jax checks the clock over the chapel door for what seems like the hundredth time as Wiley drones on about the arrangements for the wedding. There's a lot of shit to be done, both to secure the liquor order and to facilitate about a half-dozen other details that he's sure he's going to be dragged into as one of the club's most junior members- but right now, he can't find it in himself to be bothered by it. Not when he's minutes away from finally riding down to see Tara for the first time all damn week.
Christ, will he ever not feel like this when he thinks about Tara? Like every cell in his body is just waiting to move forward, to get to the lot, get on his bike, and get to her? Actually, he realizes in his next breath, he hopes that never happens, because it makes all the moments he does get with her all the sweeter.
Blithely, Jax's mind shifts to the open book that is their plans for this evening- since she doesn't even know he's free once church ends- and how, exactly, he wants to fill it. Maybe he can take her to see a movie. Actually, maybe he'll take her for a ride, take advantage of this last free night before the events of the wedding weekend really begin.
He'd thought about it last time he'd had her up here- after their trip to see Ope and the heated argument they'd had afterwards- had found himself wanting little more than to have his old lady on the back of his bike where he knows she'd always belonged. Unfortunately, they'd exited the clubhouse to a swiftly darkening sky and a persistent drizzle that had become a steady rain by the time they'd reached Tara's apartment and the bike he'd parked there for the weekend. Subsequently, he'd been forced to ride the few miles back to the clubhouse in the rain, but worse, alone. And since then, it's been a steady stream of shit he has to do for the club that's kept them apart all week, so the thought of taking off somewhere where they can-
"Alright boys," Lee's saying, interrupting Jax's thoughts, "I know you're ready to get outta here, just like I know Kane thanks you all for everything you've done to put this shit together for him and his old lady." Affectionately, he turns to slap McNabb, at his left, on the shoulder, prompting the VP to chime in.
"Same goes for me and mine, brother. Thank you all."
"Alright," Lee says, grinning. "Now that we got the formalities out of the way, and a few of you got your duties for later tonight and tomorrow morning- go let off some steam before the bachelorette party starts!" The gavel is coming down, but Jax isn't fully certain he even hears it strike the table before he's up and out of his seat and making for the chapel door. He's got shit to do- and it starts with heading out to the lot so he can-
Some brother opens the door, and suddenly, as it moves away in front of him, it's like everything is happening in slow motion. The rowdy voices in the chapel, the music pouring from the jukebox in the adjoining room, hell, even his plans for the evening seem to fall away as the battered wood swings open to reveal the girl of his dreams, seated in plain sight at the bar. Waiting. For him.
Vaguely, Jax notices that Angela's seated next to Tara- or was, since she's now on her feet and practically running past him, probably on her way to Koz. And then, he just can't bother to devote another second or another thought to anything but Tara.
She's got that full-on, beautiful smile for him- the one he'd seen all too rarely these past months, and he can't help but catch his breath as it sends shafts of hope, love, and desire spearing through his chest all at once. She's wearing his favorite shirt- aside from his own t-shirts those times they'd spend all day in bed. It's a delicate, strappy, dark green wraparound number he remembers all too well because it had always had him itching to untangle its complex swoops of fabric and reveal more of the creamy skin he knows is beneath.
Suddenly, those long legs are sliding off the bar stool, giving him only a mouthwatering hint of the perfectly-shaped ass he knows is following behind before she's picking up the pace, matching the one he'd set just moments ago without even realizing it.
One, two, three long strides is all it takes before he has her in his arms, and as she reaches up on her tiptoes and practically flings her arms around his neck, he has only a split second to revel in the fact that she's apparently as eager to see him as he is her.
And then, finally, his mind supplies, her lips are on his, the electricity zinging between them traveling all the way to his fingertips, which are currently buried in her hair, before heading south. But the familiar tightness in his jeans, the way her own fingertips are tangling in his hair, even the lush feel of her lips on his and the smooth expanse of skin pressed against his chest- it's all a jumble of sensation as his increasingly one-track mind snags on something totally different.
It's like another of the last few pieces is falling into place, something that had eluded them even the last time he'd had her up here and called her his old lady. Her being here with him- for him- because she wants to be.
Before Jax can think too much on it, he's lost again, drowning willingly in the softness and warmth that is Tara, sinking his tongue into her mouth until everything he'd felt a moment ago is somehow infused into their shared breath.
"Jax!"
Until he's slugged in the shoulder and shouts of his own name come crashing through the haze that is his consciousness at the moment- his utter blindness to everything but her.
"Jesus Christ, brother, you two just saw each other on Sunday-"
"Herm-"
"Herm?" He can't help but sputter, smirking against Tara's lips until she, too, is smacking him one on the shoulder. Reluctantly, he drops a final kiss on her forehead before turning to face a grinning Kozik, whose arm is draped around the shoulders of a pink-faced Angela.
"Well what the hell didja think she called me? Kozik?"
"Actually-"
"Forget I asked," Koz says, chuckling. "Anyway- we got to clear out, make room for the bachelorette party. Since Ang here decided to surprise me-" He drops a brief kiss on her lips and Jax rolls his eyes, good-naturedly, "-we got a change of plans. You two interested in headin' out to grab a bite to eat with us?" Christ, when had Koz and Angela had time to discuss all of that? Apparently, he'd been more lost in his girl than even he'd realized. Still, a quick glance at Tara, who smiles up at him, is all it takes to have him answering for them both.
"Let's do it."
"Ladies first." Kozik grins and nods toward the clubhouse door.
But as they make their way through the growing activity of the main room of the clubhouse, Jax finds that he can't help but ask, that stubborn sense of duty he's not been able to shake since Ope got locked up resurfacing even amidst his eagerness to please Tara. "I mean, if you're sure they don't need anything else from us tonight-"
Kozik seems to study him for a moment, then slows his pace, lets Angela walk ahead a few steps with Tara, enveloped in excited chatter- ostensibly about their upcoming plans. He watches them go, smiles appreciatively at Angela's retreating figure before turning his attention, once again, to Jax.
"Naw, bachelorette party ain't our place any more than the bachelor party the other night was the girls'." At Jax's uncertain glance towards the chapel, Kozik smirks. "Not that I'm completely off the hook for the night- before I knew Angie was up here already, I told Lee I'd check the liquor delivery when it comes in tonight, make sure it's all stacked inside the back bar door- but that ain't until it's well past dark." He nods at Angela and Tara, who are just now reaching the clubhouse door and pausing, expectantly, waiting for them. "It's that balance you were askin' me about last weekend, bro. They're here for us, now it's our turn to do something for them."
And as they close the distance between them and their old ladies, Jax finds he can only grin at the prospect of what that might mean. It's a grin that only gets wider when he reaches her side and tosses an arm over her shoulder, and Tara leans into him just enough, tilts her face up, expectantly. He's more than happy to oblige her unspoken request, lowering his head just enough to drop his mouth over hers. It's a quick kiss, relatively speaking- at least where they're concerned- but as he draws back so they can make their way across the lot, Jax can't help but feel the subtle shift it's created. Like this- the kiss, the way she slips her arm around his waist, even the impending evening he gets to spend with his girl and his friends- is all brand new, the first of many such nights to come rather than the hundredth in their lifetimes so far.
And maybe Kozik feels the same way- at least, Jax assumes he does, based on the way he and Angela are walking a few feet in front of them, practically glued to one another and all but oblivious to the world around them. So oblivious, it turns out, that they walk right on past the Cutlass, and it's on the tip of his tongue to call out to Koz, maybe give him shit or at least get him turned around and heading in the right direction again- when the man himself turns to toss an explanation over his shoulder.
"Been too long since I took my girl for a ride, brother." There's a pause, in which Koz fishes his keys out of his pocket, then leans to drop a triumphant kiss on Angela's lips before turning, fully to face Jax and Tara. "We'll lead the way- gonna hit up this place on the waterfront Hap told me about." And Jax has only a brief moment to wonder what the hell dive the singular cheapest person he's ever known would recommend- and whether it's really a place he wants to take his girl- before Koz is smirking at them, nodding at the car parked between them. "Y'all planning on takin' the bike? Be a shame to spend a night this nice ridin' in a cage. I'm sure she'll be okay right here, 'specially once they close the gate. Plus-"
And Jax isn't altogether sure what, if any, point Kozik had been attempting to make next- he's too preoccupied with visions of Tara on the back of his bike for the first time in months, the way she'll look wrapped around him, the way she's always felt at his back- just as much a part of him as the bike itself. Shit, the only thing that snaps him out of his daydream- the one he's been having more and more frequently as the days since their last ride together near a goddamn hundred or more- is Tara herself.
She weaves her fingers with his and practically pulls him along after her, rounding the hood of the Cutlass and closing the last few feet that stand between them and the Dyna. And he finds that the questions that had popped into his head, unbidden, in the half-second after Kozik had suggested they ride- whether she's okay with leaving her pride and joy here on the lot, whether she wants to risk the rain that always seems to be threatening in Tacoma- are all but answered by her eyes, shining happily up at him.
Smirking, Jax can't resist the urge to kiss her again- then again- before reaching past her to tug the strap of his saddlebag free. Ignoring her questioning look, he spots her helmet, which has been riding with him since he'd packed for Tacoma a couple months ago, and practically tears the chin strap off in his haste to yank it out of the bag. Wordlessly handing her the helmet, he watches as recognition dawns in her eyes, can't help the grin now spreading across his face as she clips it into place any more than he can the faint knowledge that yet another piece of him has clicked back into place right along with it.
And before he can think too hard about what it all means for them- wonder exactly what it means to her- he's swinging his leg over the bike, clipping on his own helmet, and reaching for her hand to help her step up and over and settle in behind him where she's always belonged.
Pulling out of the lot and falling in behind Kozik and Angela, Jax realizes all over again what it is he'd been missing- why he'd been less than successful at using his bike to drive away all the noise that had crowded his brain when she'd left him. The way she seems molded to fit every part of him- her solid warmth pressed against his back and her arms securely around his waist tightening every time takes a curve or a corner until he finds himself pushing the bike a little faster so she'd squeeze him even tighter…
Really, it grounds him like riding alone never has, makes him feel like he's real, part of the world around him once again. And even though he's wearing the thick leather of his kutte, a zip-up sweatshirt, and a t-shirt underneath, the comparatively gentle pressure of her cheek on his shoulder is no less significant. He swears to God he can feel the light brush of her lips against the heavy cotton of his sweatshirt more than once as they pick up speed.
Jax can't explain it, even to himself in the several minutes it takes them to exit the industrial docks area the clubhouse sits within, but even his bike feels different, better, with Tara on the back. Maybe it's got as much to do with physics as it does the way his heart seems to be reassembling itself with every block. But as Kozik makes a series of turns, skirting along Puget Sound and weaving through the relatively quiet streets of Tacoma toward their destination, Tara holds him even tighter- and his mind just goes quiet.
For once, there's no lingering uncertainty about who they are or the mess he'd made of their relationship to turn over and over again in his mind; no looming dread about his club or even his mother to taint the sweetness that is the moment he's living. There's just the bike, the road in front of him, the cool autumn air, and the warmth of his Old Lady wrapped around him.
Happy's spot, as he'd suspected, rests firmly in dive territory. Its wooden facade is weathered gray by what looks to be decades of salt spray and wind on the Sound, and the tattered shutters are all closed. Even the small parking area is empty; hell, the only sign of life are the beams of warm light that filter through the missing shutter slats, casting slim golden rectangles across the front tire of the Dyna. There's an enormous wraparound deck, too- probably the size of the place itself- that juts out into the water, supported by some questionable-looking stilts. Apparently, though, David's had done enough business to celebrate its 20th anniversary- Jax squints at the fading sign tacked above the door- in 1985.
Jax eases off his bike, and as Tara grips his hand to slide to the ground, he finds he just has to give it a gentle squeeze- thankful he hadn't bothered with the riding gloves he habitually wears so he can relish the feel of her soft, slender hand in his.
"Don't judge the place by its looks," Koz is saying as they remove their helmets. "Hap says it's some of the best food in Tacoma.'S'why it's been here so long." He winks at them, shrugging. "Helps that Hap lined up protection for 'em a few years back- and the owner's been grateful enough ever since to treat anyone in a kutte way better than most places in the area."
Angela raises a brow, resting a hand on one hip before shaking her head at Kozik- though the slow smile curling her lips belies the scolding words she says next.
"My first time in Tacoma and you bring me to a place with an outlaw reputation?"
Kozik just smirks in return.
"Hey, nothin' says love like a little racketeering…"
Angela's answering eye roll is Koz's cue to lean in and press several, smacking kisses on her lips.
The interior of the place is all wood paneling and dark corners, has Jax imagining sipping beer and reading a book in a cozy booth with Tara curled into his side. And for once, he realizes as the waitress leads them to their table- a booth tucked away in a back nook- his reality is matching the daydreams that had been cropping up persistently almost since the moment he'd decided he's in Tacoma to stay.
"What can I get y'all to drink?" the waitress is asking, doling out menus as Tara slides into the booth next to Jax.
"Do you have a wine list?" Angela asks, and Jax watches as Kozik has to stifle a snort.
"Um… I know we got both white and red. Maybe that pink one, too-"
"That's okay," Angela's quick to respond. "I'll just take a beer. Whatever you have is fine." The waitress eyes Kozik nervously, then flicks her eyes to Jax, briefly, before clearing her throat.
"Okay, I'm, uh… I'm gonna have to ask for an ID."
Jax almost laughs out loud- Christ, he'd been getting served regularly in Charming, though admittedly mostly at the clubhouse, since he was barely in high school. But as the waitress shifts uneasily from one foot to the other, his retort to that effect dies on his lips.
"Here, sweetie," Angela interjects, producing her driver's license, which the waitress takes with a shaking hand and examines briefly before turning to Tara.
"I'll just have an ice water," Tara says, sweetly.
"Dr. Pepper for me, Darlin'," Jax adds, shooting her an easy grin, which she returns hesitantly.
"And I'll take a Coke," Kozik finishes with a wink.
"Okay… sorry," the waitress breathes, "It's just- we lost our liquor license for a while not long ago because one of our employees was serving his friends, and my boss is pretty-"
"It's all good, really," Koz reassures, smirking across the table at Jax and Tara. "We ain't interested in gettin' you in trouble." And as the waitress cracks a genuine smile and excuses herself to get their drinks, he can't seem to resist adding an extra dig directed Jax's way. "'Sides, its about time someone around here remembered you two are fuckin' teenagers."
"But Jax is twenty," Tara protests, drawing a cackle from Kozik.
"Twenty's old enough to patch SAMCRO but not old enough to order a beer, sweetheart." Koz returns amidst his laughter- then nods at Jax. "Guess there's more than one thing that don't always come easy, huh, little bro?"
Shrugging, Jax relaxes further into the cracked leather of the booth, letting his arm slide around Tara's waist, pulling her into him as the content smile slides onto his lips.
"Nothin' worth havin' ever comes easy," is all he says- and Koz's nod of approval is all the reassurance he needs that neither of them are actually referring to liquor laws.
By the time the waitress returns with their drinks, he's relaxed even further, enjoying the surprisingly simple pleasure that is sitting and talking with longtime friends with his girl at his side. She's accompanied this time by a wiry old man who insists on shaking hands with both Jax and Kozik before addressing the table at large. He must own the place, Jax thinks, as he collects their menus, an assumption that's proven right as the man- hell, maybe he's even the eponymous David- jerks a thumb over his shoulder.
"I trust Ashley, here, has been treating you right." It's not a question, Jax realizes, but a moment later, they're all nodding along just the same, much to the relief of the waitress. "Good, good."
"Things been goin' okay here?" Kozik asks him, and the old man has a grateful smile in return.
"No problems since you all stepped in." Then, changing tack, he holds up the stack of menus. "Safe to assume you don't need these?"
"Yup. We'll all have the Happy special," Kozik returns, grinning, and the old man reaches to grip his shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. He has a nod for Jax, then shoots a wink at Tara and Angela before backing away to send an appreciative nod in their general direction.
"Alright, well I'll let you and your lovely ladies get back to it. Give Happy and Lee my best, will ya?" The old man disappears back into the kitchen just as quickly as he'd appeared- and well before Jax manages to ask Koz exactly what it is he's just ordered for them.
The Happy special, as it turns out, is a bit of everything, and it's arriving at their table piece by piece, evidently as the old man and his kitchen staff finish preparing it. A sizzling basket of fish and chips, tiny cups of savory red seafood chowder, an assortment of dips and sauces Jax can't even begin to identify surrounded by bits of crusty, buttery bread, plate upon plate of various shellfish and seafood, and so much more. As soon as they finish one small plate, it seems like the waitress is waiting in the shadows to deliver them another.
"I'm telling you, sweetheart," Kozik's saying as he pries open a shell Jax can't quite identify, butter dripping from his fingers, "if Tacoma's got one thing on Charming, it's the food."
"Oh really?" Angela questions drily, raising an eyebrow, "Just the one thing?" Then, she's laughing as Kozik leans in to kiss her- then switches to mime rubbing his buttery face on hers.
"Yep," Koz decides, returning to his plate. "Company here ain't been great, what with these two either tiptoeing around each other or spending every waking minute together. God only knows the weather could be better. But the seafood's got me second guessing going back when our time here is over." Jax watches as Tara and Angela exchange a significant look, but can't bring himself to put too much thought into it- not when Tara's this close, and leaning into him a little more every time he takes a fancy to slip his arm around her waist. And so, an easy smile is tugging at his lips as he watches Angela land a gentle backhand on Koz's chest- moments before he turns to drop another kiss on her cheek.
"So what's the latest gossip in Charming?" Tara's asking as Angela playfully shoves Kozik away.
"Nothing much, really," Angela answers, a moment later, taking a thoughtful bite. "Except the fact that Tiggy and Gemma have been driving me half-crazy since you all left." She shakes her head, ruefully. "Tig's got Missy in every couple weeks it seems, with some concern or another. You two must've talked him down more than I realized-" she waves a hand between Kozik and Tara. "I actually had to write out a prescription for a joint supplement you can get OTC to get him to leave me alone." Tara's laughing- and Kozik's raising her hand to his lips and apologizing- but Jax is already shaking his head, realizing with a bit of dread what's coming next.
"And Gemma?" God, his mother really can make her own problems everyone else's and everyone else's business her own- it's like a special fucking talent she has at this point.
"It's no secret Gemma's had a bug up her ass for months, first about Tara leaving, and then about you taking the exchange offer up here. And she's taken most of it out on the croweaters, since your dad made it clear it's club business she needs to stay out of. But since I stopped hanging out at the clubhouse after Herm- uh, Kozik left…" Angela shrugs. "Well, let's just say it took a little while, but she found a way to corner me anyway."
"Shit. I'm sorry-"
"Trust me, it isn't your fault." She tells him, earnestly. "I mean, I've handled plenty of frantic pet parents terrified for their fur babies- I just never expected Gemma Teller to act the same way when her grown-ass son, a member of an MC, for Christ's sake, left home."
"Oh, God," Tara groans around a mouthful of fries, and Angela snickers.
"You'd have died, Tara- she came marching in with one of her giant birds, insisting that we examine him right away. I told her I couldn't see him because I hadn't taken the avian supplemental courses, which she already knew, and referred her to Dr. Thomas over in Lodi-"
"She's used him since I was a kid," Jax mumbles, shaking his head. "I still remember that creepy-ass taxidermy display in the waiting room."
"Right- but she made it clear she wasn't leaving until I humored her… Which was why I eventually just took her to an exam room and did what I called a "visual examination," let her get on with asking me the questions she'd really come to ask." Her brow arches. "You know, whether I'd talked to Herm recently, if he'd mentioned how you were doing, what I knew about your timeline up here-"
"Christ…" Jax growls. Of course his mother couldn't leave well enough alone- she's always sticking her nose where it doesn't fucking belong. Next to him, Tara laughs, but runs a soft hand up his arm, which has his irritation quickly melting into remorse as Angela continues her story.
"After that, she'd bring him in every couple weeks for a check-up- but she'd never admit why she was really there. Though I didn't have any of the information she wanted anyway- not that I'd have given it to her even if I did."
"You shoulda told us," Jax returns, shooting Angela a contrite look as Tara squeezes his arm, "I coulda-"
"You had enough shit to worry about here in Tacoma without tryin' to sort out Charming," Kozik interrupts, taking a sip of his Coke. "And besides, like she told you, my girl's better at handling Gemma than most of us, including you."
"Plus," Angela intones mysteriously, leaning forward as if she's about to divulge some secret, "I got to watch her get uncomfortable every time I mentioned how much it seemed like you were loving it up there. Last week, she had her back up about you not checking in about this wedding and I swear she looked just like that stray cat we had hanging around the kennels for a while."
They laugh, then, and Jax finds himself relaxing once again. Finds he no longer has to force himself to put his mother and her bullshit out of his mind, not with the delicious spread in front of them, the soft laughter and easy conversation, and the absence of club responsibilities looming ahead. Even more of a factor, he knows, is the one-two punch served up by Tara making an appearance on his own turf at last and then her calming presence here at his side.
The lingering warmth of brilliant smile as he exited the chapel earlier combined with the way a mere touch on his arm had filled his mind with visions of her instead of frustration with Gemma… Well, it's just another part of what makes him better when he's with her.
Settling back into his seat, Jax looks on as she and Angela trade war stories. Tara laughingly recalls some patient who had been convinced he was dying of a ruptured appendix only to learn he was just suffering indigestion. Basking in the welcome sound of her laughter and the relaxed, content, fucking happy expression that plays across her beautiful features, he thanks whatever God exists all over again she's given him this second (third, fourth, fifth, whatever) chance. Smiling to himself, he can't help squeezing her hand- still locked in his- under the table, and it's a smile that grows even brighter when she glances his way once, again, and returns it with her own gorgeous grin.
"What?" Tara murmurs, clearly a little confused as to why he's beaming at her like an idiot, but he doesn't miss the way she practically fucking lights up when she looks at him.
I love you, he doesn't say; partially because he's less than sure her answer wouldn't be some version of me too- something he could go the rest of his life without hearing from her- and partially because he knows she won't appreciate being put on the spot to respond in front of both Kozik and Angela. But before Jax can think too hard about whether it's self-preservation or his own sense of pride at work, he's blurting out the rest of what's been on his mind almost since he exited the chapel earlier today.
"Thank you…"
And it's a sentence he could have finished a dozen different ways. Thank you for giving me another chance. Thank you for being here tonight. Thank you for being my Old Lady. Christ, thank you for helping save me from my own stubborn ass…
But Jax doesn't say any of it- doesn't even give her a chance to ask him the For what? that's almost certainly forming on those delectable, pink lips. Instead, he just drags her hand up to his own lips and kisses her knuckles, enjoying the hint of a blush that reaches her cheeks as he does so. He'll tell her everything that's currently tugging at his heart soon enough- but until then, he's more than content to drape his free hand over her shoulder, pull her close, and just be.
An hour later, Jax watches, somewhat dejectedly, as the slender, glowing strips of the Cutlass bump over the rough terrain of the gravel road leading away from the lot. Swallows with some difficulty as they grow smaller and smaller in the distance until, eventually, they disappear.
When they'd finished dinner- complete with a selection of what he's sure is every dessert David's has to offer- Jax had felt himself at a bit of a loss. He'd been no more ready to end the evening than he had been the moment he'd stepped out of the chapel, yet unable to suggest that they head back to the clubhouse, as it was still filled with a couple dozen women attending a goddamn bachelorette party. Even as they'd bid David and his staff goodbye, he'd been frantically scouring his mind for something, anything, for them to do next.
But, with fuckin' zero non-club contacts in Tacoma and the fact that he and Tara had spent nearly every minute together here in town either relaxing in a park, pigging out in a diner, or (his favorite, even though she'd been injured) alternately lazing on the couch in her apartment building's lounge or lying side-by-side in her bed… He hadn't had a fucking clue how to prevent their night from ending at the relatively early hour of eleven o'clock.
He'd been about to suggest bowling, roller skating, fucking knitting lessons- anything to keep her with him, even though he's positive Kozik would've laughed his ass off. But then Kozik himself, who had been walking towards his bike and murmuring, low, to Angela, had turned and whistled for his attention- and made the decision for them.
He'd wasted no time in tasking Jax with the bitch work he'd mentioned earlier- unloading several boxes of booze the club had procured from somewhere or other. And as much as Jax had wanted to tell him to fuck off so he could spend more time with Tara, one look at the way the guy practically fucking lit up with Angela tucked into his side had him biting his tongue.
They hadn't seen each other in months, he'd reasoned- of course they wanted to spend time together. It was just that Tara hadn't seemed equally as eager to spend that same time with Jax himself… But that's a thought he'd immediately tamped down in favor of flipping Koz the bird and somewhat reluctantly pocketing the keys he'd tossed to him.
Thinking about it now, Jax has to admit that he owes the guy- Koz had not only covered his ass more than once while he was trying to win back Tara's trust, but he'd also been the source of a shit-ton of advice and guidance, both regarding Tara and the club. He's also pretty sure he owes Angela, too- both for breaking into her business and stealing employee records as well as for helping Tara get established here in Tacoma. And, there's also the not-insignificant burden she'd inadvertently taken on when they'd all left her in Charming to deal with Gemma.
Plus, Tara had interjected, the Cutlass was still sitting on the lot, so it made sense for her to ride back up to the clubhouse with Jax, then drive the Cutlass home. After all, she has an early class tomorrow, plus another mid-afternoon. He'd balked at that, no more wanting to lose time he could be spending with her than have her drive all the way back home, alone. It's a protest he'd swallowed even as Tara had donned her helmet and climbed onto the back of his bike- and then he'd sucked it up all the way back up here to the lot until she'd dismounted, shaken out her hair, handed the helmet back… And kissed him breathless.
Christ, he'd wanted to ask her to stay, especially then- though she'd have had to wait, patiently, in his room and they'd have been basically fucking trapped in there all evening… not that he'd have minded that. He'd wanted even more to finagle an invitation back to her apartment- but really, the thought that he'd have to finagle anything fucking hurt- shouldn't she want to be with him enough to ask him herself?
And so, when she'd pressed herself against him a second time- this time after he'd walked her to the driver's side door of the Cutlass- he'd more than willingly kissed her, run his hand down her back and beneath the light jacket she'd been wearing. He'd half-convinced himself that the shudder that had come next was a sign of just how much she'd missed him instead of the cool evening air that had surrounded him. Was even more certain that the haze that had just barely cleared her deep green eyes as she'd drawn back had been unmitigated lust.
Unfortunately, Jax had found himself waiting for an invitation that had never come. Tara had simply blushed, reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, and told him she'd see him tomorrow. And as much as it had been his instinct to ask- okay, fucking beg- her to stay both pride and duty to Koz and his club had had him quietly kissing her back. Then, he'd helped her into the driver's seat and closed the door before patting the roof of the Cutlass fondly and watching her drive away.
Again.
Really, it isn't just about tonight and his reluctance to lock himself into his room and drown out the sounds of the party he's sure is going on inside. It's that the more time he spends with Tara, the more he's realizing he's sick of being lonely- especially when there's no goddamn reason for it with her right here in town with him. Shit, he's fucking tired of feeling the happiness that comes with spending hours at her side, then coming up here and sleeping alone.
God, he's got to get them to a place where being together as much as possible is second nature- and for that, he's got to get her to trust him again. Trust him to stay here in Tacoma, trust him to be careful with her heart… all of it. And if he knew how to do that, he snorts, lighting a cigarette, he wouldn't be standing here in the lot, alone.
Jax sighs, taking a deep drag of the cig before reaching into his pocket for the keys Kozik had handed him earlier. Finds himself wishing they were the keys to his own place- and wonders, not for the first time, whether getting a place here in Tacoma wouldn't go a long way toward solving at least two of his problems. But the fact remains that they're just some fucking boat keys, an important reminder that he's got shit to do that doesn't involve holing up in some love nest with his girl. And so, resignedly, he heads around back of the lot in the direction of the industrial docks beyond.
There's but a half-block between the backside of the clubhouse and the expanse of concrete that links SAMTAC's dock space with the larger warehouses and marinas that surround them. In fact, it's just a couple dozen or so steps and Jax is at the steep concrete steps that lead to the dock itself- and the small handful of boats the club had amassed over the years to conduct various aspects of their area businesses. Chuckling he bypasses a couple ragtag-looking cargo boats and barges and heads directly for the comparatively sleek lines of the cabin cruiser at the end of the SAMTAC dock.
Some local contact working as a barback who owed their VP some favor had agreed to funnel the club several boxes of booze for the wedding. But, he'd been too nervous to take it himself and even more averse to transporting it, lest the owner discover both his debt to the club and the way he'd gone about erasing it. And so, earlier in the evening, one of the patches with a boat license had had to pick the booze up from its spot concealed behind the nightclub in what resembled the lineup of other pleasure boats parked along the pier. Now, all that was needed was someone to haul the dozen or so boxes up the dock and into the dry storage area at the back of the clubhouse. Evidently, Koz had planned on the both of them finishing up the task- but now that Angela's in town a day earlier than expected, Jax'll be going it alone.
Walking up the ramp and onto the deck itself, Jax takes a moment to orient himself. He'd seen the boats from a distance, had even loaded and unloaded the club's primary cargo boat many a time since he'd come up here- but he'd never had reason to board the cabin cruiser. Quickly, he spots the narrow stairwell that leads to the boat's interior room and crosses the deck to head down them, ducking by necessity as he reaches the heavily varnished wooden door.
He has to try both keys before the door gives way, leading to a small space with a table and chairs and a second door beyond. Inside, he finds walls of knotted pine cabinets surrounding what looks to be a king-sized bed that stretches nearly wall to wall. And, even more importantly, on top- a cluster of liquor boxes. After a brief moment spent peeking inside the cabinets- partly out of curiosity and partly to reassure himself that what he sees is what he needs, Jax sighs, again, and sets about hefting the first box into his arms.
The first official morning of the wedding weekend dawns bright and clear- and so had Kozik, apparently. He'd turned up just after daybreak, pounding on Jax's door relentlessly until Jax, shoulders still aching from the night before, had swung the door open to see his gratingly cheerful face, fucking grinning at him from the hallway. Still, the thin shaft of annoyance he'd felt at being awoken so early had been tempered by the pure, relaxed, happiness that had been practically oozing out of Kozik's pores.
"You happy motherfucker," he hadn't been able to resist snarking, cuffing Kozik on the shoulder. "Did-"
"Not another word, bro." Koz had returned, cutting him off- and flipping him off for good measure. "At least, not if you don't want another black eye." But Kozik had been unable to wipe the smile off his face, even as he had threatened Jax- and then promptly tasked him with the first of several bitch work assignments Jax is sure would be relegated to the prospects- if SAMTAC had any.
Though it turns out even Kozik had been pressed into setup duty, both for the welcome party that's taking place later in the evening as well as for the wedding tomorrow. And Jax finds, working side by side and holding relatively shallow- yet pleasant- conversation actually serves to keep his mind off the other event happening later today… The appearance of the SAMCRO faction in Tacoma. In fact, all day, just like the night before, he'd been able to avoid getting twisted up in thought and anxiety over shit that's inevitable.
Now that he's in the shower, though…
As fucked up as it is, it's like Gemma's looming large in the small space. Sighing, Jax ducks his head under the hot spray in an attempt to drive out the lingering image of the last time he'd seen his mother- her shocked, angry expression as he'd told her what was probably the harshest version of the goddamn truth he could muster.
I love you, mom, but I don't need you. Not anymore… That's one reason I volunteered for a temporary transfer to Tacoma.
God, she'd recoiled as if he'd slapped her, Jax remembers, grimly. Shit, knowing his mother, she'd probably have preferred that- even though she'd definitely have returned it with one of her own. And although he'd kept in relatively frequent contact with JT, asked after her a few times, he'd neither needed nor wanted to hash things out with her. He'd been on a mission- the most important of his fucking life so far- and he'd had enough shit swirling around in his head without worrying about whether Gemma Teller was still pissed at him.
Except now, after months of avoiding her, Jax can't help but cringe- even alone in the shower- at the prospect of the inevitable confrontation he knows is coming. Because while there are some things he still misses about his mom, she's overbearing at best and fucking relentless at worst- especially where the club, his dad's legacy, and his future's involved. And despite the progress he's made up here, becoming his own man in the club versus some shadow of his father, there's no way she's letting this- what he knows she sees as abandonment and maybe even betrayal on both his part and Tara's- go, crowds of wedding guests be damned.
Sighing and twisting the knob, Jax steps out of the shower, then crosses the small bathroom to the mirror and wipes away the steam with his hand, struck immediately by the memory of the other times he'd done the same. On his sixteenth birthday, he'd been struggling to reconcile the image in the mirror- of someone who looked like he might be old enough to ride a Harley and start playing at being an adult- with the kid he'd still felt like inside. Days after Tara'd left him, he'd been staring at the dipshit in the mirror who had been stupid enough to push her away- the one who'd been responsible for the mess his life had turned into- and had taken an ill-advised, half-drunken swing at his own reflection.
Now, though, the person looking back at him is decidedly a man, and not a child or even a teenager any longer. It's long past time to grow out of this shit, Jax reasons- time to have an adult conversation with his mother about all the reasons he came up here to Tacoma, what he plans to do next, and, most importantly, why. After all, even though Gemma Teller had been exerting her will on all the men around her probably since before she'd returned to Charming with a baby and a biker club… She's just an old lady.
Right?
Snorting at just how off-base that thought really is when it comes to his mother, Jax strides into his room to get dressed, his thoughts shifting to another old lady who's much more than the title alludes to.
Tara. His old lady in name if not quite in practice yet. Despite the strange mixture of anticipation and dread settling in about the night ahead, he knows, somehow, that even if his mother completely loses her shit and does her best to dress him down in front of the whole club, having Tara by his side will make it all worth it.
Actually, he can't fucking wait. Can't wait to bring her to his first important club function on his arm, can't wait to introduce her to all the visiting patches (and their equally-intimidating old ladies) as his old lady. Can't wait to watch her hug his father, laugh and joke with his brothers, fit in with the other old ladies. Even more importantly, he can't wait to finally reunite the two halves of his life- the club and Tara. And this time, it'll be without the fragile uncertainty of whatever their relationship had been these past couple months looming somewhere in the back of his mind. This time, he's determined, it'll be with everything- including their future plans- out in the open.
The freedom- though it's probably still at least an hour and a screaming match with his mother away- is palpable. He can practically fucking taste it, just like he can almost taste Tara. All those secret parts of her that he knows still belong to him even though he hasn't had the pleasure of drowning his senses in her since the night Ope was arrested. Sure, they'd been intimate in those dreary weeks before her departure from Charming, and they'd shared a quickly mounting number of heart-pounding moments since he'd found her again.
But that all pales in comparison to how she feels when she's wrapped around him in more ways than one. And nothing, nothing in the world fucking compares to the unguarded trust in her eyes, the soft curve of her heartfelt smile, and the sound of his name on her lips, right after she whispers I love you.
And somehow, he realizes as he shoves his feet into his Nikes and wills away the hard-on that threatens whenever he thinks about her for more than a few seconds- the promise he's made himself that they will get back there again is almost enough to wipe away his remaining dread at the prospect of confronting his mother.
Almost.
"Alright. Love you, too."
Kozik's got a stupid grin on his face even as he hangs up the bar phone and turns to face the bar top itself. Jax, probably wisely, decides not to give him any shit for it- especially since he's pretty sure he wears that same expression every time he hangs up with Tara. Instead, he continues drumming his fingers on the bar top, tapping out a nonsensical rhythm, unable to stop at least some part of himself from moving.
Out here, away from the privacy of his own space, the fact that Charming and all the shit they bring with them is potentially minutes away seems to be looming large.
So much so, that for the first time in a long time, Jax finds himself wanting- needing- a drink. Whatever happens tonight, it's probably going to be well past what a beer- or six- can effectively drown out. For his part, Koz says nothing, just shifts to busy himself behind the bar; and Jax smirks appreciatively as Koz slides a bottle of Jack and a glass across the bar top without having to ask several seconds later.
"Figured you'd need some liquid fortification before the other charters start to arrive," is all Koz says, effectively reading his mind. Though Jax figures they both know his nervous energy doesn't have shit to do with any member of an SOA charter.
Jax snorts, upending the bottle and dumping a healthy amount of amber liquid into the glass.
"Looks like you're a little late on that, bro- Eureka and Sonoma are already rolling in." He takes a sip, welcoming the bracing burn of the whiskey traveling down his throat, before jerking his head over his shoulder towards the clubhouse's main entrance, where a small cluster of patches and their old ladies is, in fact, filtering in. "And Joliette, from the looks of it- shit, they're probably the closest, right?"
It's a question that isn't really a question, but it brings him to his next question, which had been threatening to burst forth since before Kox had hung up the phone a minute ago.
"The girls on their way?"
Angela and Tara insisting on driving up to the clubhouse themselves had been a bit of a sticking point, both last night and earlier today when they'd reiterated their plans. Not for Kozik, that lucky bastard, who's all but guaranteed a night in his old lady's arms no matter how late into the night the party rages. No, Angela had said she'd be content to have just a couple drinks so she could safely drive them back to the place she'd rented for the weekend so they could be alone.
It's the fact that Tara had agreed to ride with her that had given Jax pause. Despite the fact that what he wants more than anything is to throw her over his shoulder, haul her back to his room, and make her truly his again, he's fairly sure that even if Tara's on board, Gemma's watchful eye is going to put a damper on anything of the sort. But worse is the high likelihood that, without the Cutlass, she'll leave when her ride does. And the last fucking thing he wants after his first club function with her as his official old lady is to kiss her goodbye whenever Koz and Angela see fit to take off and make the most of their time together.
So, his visions of pressing slow kisses to her lips until they drifted off to sleep in a cocoon of blessed silence, just them, had quickly faded. But, even that wasn't enough to dampen his eagerness to spend time with her- especially since she's probably the only thing in this world other than the whiskey he's currently holding capable of getting him through the bullshit sure to come his way tonight.
"Nah," Kozik's saying, coming around the bar to toss an arm over Jax's shoulder. "They just got back from the mall." He grins to himself again as they make their way towards the tables at the corner of the clubhouse. "They'll do whatever girly shit they gotta do to get ready, and then they'll head up. You know women- prob'ly an hour, maybe more."
And Jax is resting his drink on a table and opening his mouth to scoff at Koz, tell him his girl has never needed hours to look beautiful, when he hears it.
More accurately, he supposes, it's a cacophony of sounds. The heavy thud of the front door swinging open a couple dozen feet behind him. The steady rumble of greetings rising around him. The warm tones of the response from a voice he'd know anywhere. And, the telltale clicking of a pair of high-heeled leather boots that seems to cut through them all- especially as they come to a stop directly behind him.
And then comes the other voice he'd know anywhere, mostly because he'd been hearing it for his whole goddamn life.
"Jackson..."
**A/N- Please don't hate me. I promise we're getting down to the nitty gritty- the next chapter's already written (as is the next one plus a good chunk of the one after that) but there's no way I could leave it as almost 40,000 words for you all to sift through. In the meantime, let me know what you think! Ang R- they're so close! Thanks so much for all your help!