Jax & Ariel - Bonus Content

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Chapter 1
 
JAX
 
Clearing my station, I stretch, yawning as I stand. I have no idea what Trouble has planned, but I’m off work for the next two days, so I hope to catch the game tonight. As I wave to Keith, Cockerel appears from Kayley’s piercing room, jerking his head at me.
            My eyebrows shoot up, as do Keith’s, and I walk over to him.
            “Got a second?” Cockerel’s eyebrow raises, and he jerks his head again, this time at the very back door leading through to the one room I’ve never walked into.
            “Uh, sure.”
            Curious, I follow Cockerel into the backroom. The door has an ominous Keep Out sign, and it’s locked with a key. Cockerel gestures for me to do in first, kicking the door shut behind him.
            This is the room the Wild Hawks MC uses for their illegal poker games, so I’ve never been back here. It’s cozy, with a makeshift bar and five round tables.
            Cockerel drops down into a chair at one of the tables, gesturing for me to sit across from him. I lower myself hesitantly into the chair, wondering what this is about. As far as I know, I haven’t received any complaints – I don’t think I’m about to be fired. Fuck. I hope I’m not about to be fired.
            “You’re not being fired,” Cockerel smirks, reading my face correctly. Thank fuck.
            “Good. I’d leave San Remo before I went to work for Hal fucking Grossman.”
            Cockerel snorts. “I’d never do that to you, man.”
            “So, what’s this all about?”
            Sighing, Cockerel places both hands on the table in front of him, drumming his tattooed fingers.
            “You like it here?” He squints across at me. Uh, yeah?
            “No complaints. The hours are better than ever.” I shoot him a grin, and he chuckles, nodding his head.
            “You’ve always put in whatever work was required, no complaints. I like that about you.”
            I don’t think I’ve ever had such high praise from Cockerel. I wonder what has brought this on. Kayley’s pregnant. Maybe he’s getting all sappy about that shit?
            “When you started this place and brought me on, you had a vision. I agreed with it. I wanted it to succeed.”
It’s the fucking truth. I had applied for a job at the Downtown parlor a week before Cockerel stopped working there. My interview for Hawks Ink was conducted by Cockerel with fucking bandaged hands – so I was never going to accept a job for Grossman. Not after what he did to one of his artists.
            “I know you did. This has been a long time coming, but you fucking earned it years ago. I’ve just never been in a position to offer it before.”
            My eyebrows are disappearing under my hair. In a position to offer what? Cockerel takes one look at my face and snorts.
            “I’ve cleared it with the club. Apparently, Buster, Palmer, and Merch went into bat for you when they took it to a vote. Smart of you to get those boys onside.”
            Uh, I’m not joining the club. That’s not happening.
            “I want to offer you a share in the parlor.”
            “A…what?”
            Did he really just say that? Holy fucking shit.
            “A share. Ownership. You, me, the Hawks.”
            “You’re diluting your share? For me? Seriously?”
            Cockerel snorts, flipping me off. “Fuck off, man. I’ve poured my soul into this place. I’m not diluting shit. The Hawks are diluting their share. I’d keep my thirty percent. You’d have fifteen percent. They’d have the rest.”
            Fuck me. Those boys really must have gone to bat for me. The parlor has to have turned into a little cash cow for them.
            Wrinkling his nose, Cockerel smooths his hands over the table. “I argued for twenty percent, but they didn’t want to cede a full half of the business.”
            “Fifteen percent is more than I ever imagined,” I tell him truthfully. Cockerel nods, a grin breaking across his face.
            “So, you’re in?”
            “Yeah. I’m fucking in.”
            “Good. The Hawks will have their lawyer draft up a contract. You got a lawyer?”
            “No. But Ari’s parents might know someone.”
            “I’ve got one. You can use them.”
            “Yeah. Sure.”
            “You in shock?”
            “Yep.”
            Cockerel laughs, standing and offering his hand to me. Shoving to my feet, I seize it eagerly.
            “Thanks for this. Really. You won’t regret it.”
            “I know.” Cockerel nods, dropping my hand. “You’ve more than proved yourself. You’re ready.”
            Holy shit. I need to call Charlie. And I need to call Ari.
 

 
ARIEL
 
“Did you get them?”
            Lacey’s hissed words float over the stall.
            “Yeah.”
            The door opens, and she peeks out, looking frantic. I hold up the box of five pregnancy tests Lacey had me buy from the pharmacy.
            “Relax. It’ll either be positive, or it won’t.”
            Lacey shoots me a look of pure venom. “I can’t be pregnant! We decided we didn’t want kids for a few years.”
            “Buster loves you. If you’re pregnant, he’ll deal with it.”
            “I don’t want a baby for a few years either!”
            Okay. Well, now I can see why she’s stressed. She snatches the box off me, tearing it open with shaking hands. I pluck up the instruction booklet as Lacey stares ashen-faced at the plastic wand.
            “Uh. You take the little blue lid off, pee for like two seconds, and then stick the end under the stream. Then you replace the cap and wait five minutes.”
            Lacey is already peeing while I stand here. She does three in a row.
            “Three?”
            “Yeah. No fucking false readings for me.”
            “Okay.”
            She caps them, placing them on the toilet cistern. Tugging her panties back up, she flushes the toilet and starts to pace, staring at the timer on her phone.
            My eyes dart to the box, with two tests remaining. What the hell. I’m just standing here waiting. I snatch one, taking it to another stall.
            “What are you doing?” Lacey frowns over at me, pausing in her pacing as her eyes tear away from her phone.
            “Solidarity testing.”
            Lacey’s laugh doesn’t sound very convincing. I follow the instructions, capping the test and washing my hands.
            “So, what would you do if it’s positive?”
            Lacey glares over at me and sighs, shrugging. “Look at real estate websites. We live in a one-bedroom house.”
            Oh yeah. That’s something to think about. Shit. They say having a baby is expensive – having to buy a whole new house sure is pricey.
            The dinging of the timer distracts us both. All the blood drains from Lacey’s face, and she practically sprints into the stall, fumbling as she snatches up all three plastic wands.
            “Negative,” she breathes, relief and hope creeping into her tone. “Negative. Negative. Oh, thank fuck.”
            A sob bursts from her, and I rush over, folding her into my arms and holding her tightly.
            “There. See, everything is going to be okay. Nothing to worry about.”
            “Yeah,” Lacey sniffs, wiping her eyes and shoving the negative tests into her purse. “What does yours say.”
            I laugh, stepping away from her to go back to my stall. “Well, it’ll say negative since I’m not the one worried about being pregna -.”
            My eyes land on the test. Two blue lines. Fucking hell.
            “Gorgeous?”
            Lacey’s head peers around the stall door as my words cut off. In disbelief, I pick up the test, turning and holding it out to her. Lacey’s eyes drop to it, widening as she takes in the two blue lines.
            “Oh.” She holds out the box. “Try the last one. Just to be sure.”
            “Yeah.”
            Swallowing, I snatch the last test out of the box, peeing and capping it. Lacey starts her timer again, watching me with wide eyes as I resume her pacing path.
            “What are you going to do if you’re pregnant?” she asks softly, throwing my question back in my face.
            “Buy a bigger condo?” I suggest. Crap. Tears well in my eyes. “Jax and I haven’t talked about kids.”
            “You think he wants them?”
            “I don’t know! He’s excited about Charlie and Margot’s baby.”
            “That’s a good sign.”
            “That’s a baby two and a half thousand miles away!” I wail. Lacey is across the room, her arms tightly around me in two seconds.
            “Breathe. Freaking out won’t be good for a baby. If it exists.”
            Her phone beeps and I break out of her hold, hurrying into the stall and snatching the wand. Positive.
            “Gorgeous?”
            “Two blue lines.”
            “Okay. Let’s get out of the bathroom.”
            “Okay.”
            I trail Lacey out of the bathroom, clutching my two positive tests. She steers me into the staff room and down onto the couch. A bottle of water appears in front of my face, and I take it absently. You know, I never imagined – if I ever imagined finding out I was pregnant – that it would happen in the bathroom of the Hawks Nightclub.
            “How are you going to tell Jax?” Lacey asks, curling up on the small couch beside me, hooking her leg over my knee.
            “I don’t know. Something sweet.”
            Shit. I have to tell Jax. What if he freaks out? What if he’s not ready? What if I’m not ready?
            “You could get balloons?”
            “Can you buy surprise! I’m pregnant balloons without a special order?”
            “Hmm, probably not. You could make him a nice dinner?”
            “I did that when I got my job.”
            “Oh. Boring to do it again. You could buy a cake. They should be able to just write on it.”
            That’s a good idea. Jax likes cake.
            “There’s a nice bakery in Downtown. Did you want me to come with you?”
            “No. I can do it. You have to get ready for work anyway.”
            “Okay.” Lacey throws her arms around my shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
            I nod, feeling both excited and anxious. Of course Lacey is all helpful now she knows she’s not the pregnant one.

 
Chapter 2
 
JAX
 
Climbing into my truck, the grin stretches across my face. A fifteen percent ownership share? Fuck yeah. I reach for my phone, my finger hovering over my contacts list. I want to tell Ari in person, but I don’t know if I want Charlie to know before Ari. I mean, this affects Ari, so she should know first. Right?
            The decision is taken out of my hands when my phone begins to ring, Ari’s name flashing up on the screen. I swipe to answer, smirking as I hold it to my ear.
            “Checking up on me, huh?”
            “Oh. Are you working late? I thought you finished at six?”
            “I did. Had to talk to Cockerel about some things. I’m just leaving the parlor now. Where are you?”
            “Oh… I’m at home.” Ari sounds distracted. My eyes narrow. Distracted with Ari usually means something happened. “Uh… we might need a new oven.”
            A new oven? What the fuck? I knew that tone meant something.
            “I’ll be right there, Trouble,” I growl, my tires squealing as I slam my foot on the gas, tearing out of the parking lot.
            “Okay.” Her voice is small, the call cutting out as she hangs up. Jesus Christ. What the fuck could Trouble have done to the oven?
            There’s a spot right near the front door, thank fuck. I pull into it, shoving out of the cab and slamming the door as I jog inside. This time, there are no firefighters, so it can’t have been too bad. Hopefully.
            “Trouble?” I kick the door shut behind me, calling out as I stride through the living room, beelining for the kitchen.
            “In here.” Her voice floats out of the kitchen. I get to the wide, arched doorway, and my footsteps falter.
            Ari is kneeling beside the oven, which is full of fire-suppressant foam. A small fire extinguisher is sitting next to Ari on the floor, and she’s attempting to scoop the foam into a bucket.
            After Ari accidentally managed to set fire to the building’s laundry room down in the basement, I insisted on buying s small fire extinguisher for our kitchen. Thank fuck I did.
            I slide to my knees beside her, my hands skating over her hair, face, and clothes, checking for burn marks.
            “I didn’t get burned,” she says absently, brushing my hands away. Frowning, I turn to the mess, taking the ladle off her and resuming her scooping.
            “What happened?”
            “I was baking. I got distracted. I must have set the temperature higher than I thought.”
            She sounds upset. Curling an arm around Ari’s shoulder, I tug her against me, pressing a kiss to her temple.
            “It’s fine, Trouble. We’ll sort it.”
            “You’re not mad I destroyed the oven?”
            Maybe I should be, but there are mitigating circumstances tonight.
            “You called me for help. That makes me not mad.”
            Ari nods, grabbing another ladle and helping me scoop. Eventually, my spoon hits something that isn’t foam. Reaching in, I brush some foam away and pull out a burned lump.
            “What was it going to be?” I frown, twisting it to look from different angles.
            “A cake,” Ari sighs. “I was going to buy one, but they were closing and said they couldn’t get one done today. I didn’t want to wait.”
            “Why a cake?”
Seriously. We don’t normally have cake. I mean, I have something to celebrate, but I haven’t told her yet.
Ari looks sheepish. “I was going to write we’re having a baby on it.”
I blink down at her, my mind completely blank. Ari is staring up at me, looking worried. Finally, her words penetrate, and all my thoughts come rushing back at once.
“You started a fire while you’re pregnant?” I choke out, dropping the cake, which hits the ground with a thud. My hands start checking her again, making sure she’s okay.
“I’m fine, Jax,” she laughs as I tug her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. A baby. Holy fucking shit. Imagine two of them. Getting into all those messes. I’m going to have to get a GPS bracelet for her or something, and like, a GPS pacifier for the baby. Yeah. Maybe Strafe will know where to get one. His wife’s all techy.
 

 
ARIEL
 
Jax’s arms are like steel bands around me, his face nuzzling in my hair. I can feel his heart where my shoulder is pressed against his chest. It’s beating fast – like how mine was when I found out.
            “Are you okay?” I ask him. His face moves against the top of my head like he’s nodding. One of his hands moves to stroke my stomach – which doesn’t look any different yet.
            “More than okay, Trouble.”
            “I know we haven’t discussed having kids….” I trail off, not sure what else to say.
            Jax lifts his head, cupping my jaw with both hands and tipping my face back so his eyes can search it.
            “Are you okay with this?”
            You know, I wasn’t sure. Until I was picking the color of the writing on the cake. As soon as I was working out what to write on it, I was happy about this. I am happy about it.          
            “I want this baby. Our baby.”
            A smile washes over Jax’s face, and he brushes a kiss over my lips.
            “I want our baby too, Trouble,” he murmurs. My hands grip his biceps as he deepens the kiss.
            Still kissing him, I climb into his lap, hooking my legs around his waist like a koala. Jax’s hands leave my jaw, snaking around me to hold me fast against him, his tongue lashing the inside of my mouth.
            “Fuck, I love you, Trouble,” he groans, holding me even tighter.
            “I love you too, Jax,” I gasp, my head tipping back as his lips tease my throat.
            Abruptly, Jax stops kissing me, his head lifting and glaring through the doorway to the living room.
            “What is it?” I ask, feeling a little whiny. I wasn’t nearly done kissing him yet.
            “Fucking Charlie was right,” he grumbles, still glaring out at the rest of the condo. Um, okay. I don’t really want to think about my big brother right now. Bit of a buzzkill, and we were kissing….
            “We need to buy a bigger place.”
            Oh, yeah. “I did think about that,” I sigh, Jax’s eyes moving back to my face, softening as they do. “Can we afford it?”
            “Actually, yeah,” Jax chuckles, kissing the tip of my nose. “You aren’t the only one with big news tonight.”
            My eyebrows shoot up. What’s his big news?
            “Cockerel just offered me a fifteen percent ownership share in the parlor.”
            My mouth drops open. Jax looks smug and sounds excited.
            “Oh my god! Congratulations!”
I tug his face back down to plant a kiss on it. We get carried away and start making out again. Jax finally lifts his head, smirking down at me.
“Did you want another condo or a house?”
My eyes search his. “A backyard would be nice with a baby.”
“Yeah,” Jax grins down at me. “It would be. We can look at real estate tomorrow. Find our perfect forever home.” He hesitates. “Single level though.”
            My eyes search his, and a smile breaks over my face. Charlie. He’s thinking of Charlie visiting in his chair.
            “Of course. I’m not cleaning up and down stairs.”
            Jax snorts, grinning down at me. Hey, if we both have big news to share….
            “We should have a cake to celebrate!” I squeal. Jax’s eyebrows shoot up, his eyes darting over to the still foamy oven. Oh. Yeah.
            “How about we have a nice dinner instead?” he asks wryly. Yeah. That’s better. Jax stands, my legs still around his waist, and carries me through to the bedroom.
            Kicking the door shut, he doesn’t set me down. Instead, he drops onto the bed, bringing me down on top of him.
            “Should we clean up the kitchen before we go to dinner?” I ask, gasping as Jax’s lips find my throat again.
            “Leave it. We’ll do it later.”
            “Okay. Should we get ready for dinner?”
            “Later,” Jax growls, his fingers sliding around the hem of my shorts. “I have another way I want to celebrate first.” His lips brush over my pulse point, his tongue darting out, swirling there as I moan. I’m on board with his idea of a celebration. I’ll die before I ever admit it to him, but Jax is usually right.
 
The End.
 

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