Page 38 of The Sin Bin

Without comment, Jax placed his suit jacket around her shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body and carried his scent, enveloping her in a cocoon of cedar and musk that made her feel oddly protected.

"You'll freeze," she protested, though she made no move to return it.

"I run hot. One of the benefits of all this muscle mass."

As they waited for the valet to bring their cars around, Jax asked, "So dinner preferences? Most places are closed at this hour, but I know a few good late-night spots."

Lauren considered for a moment. The evening had been a whirlwind of new experiences, and while the Wilson confrontation had cast a brief shadow, she wasn't ready for her time with Jax to end. A crowded restaurant, even a late-night one, seemed less appealing than somewhere more private where they could talk without an audience.

"Actually, I have a better idea," she said, surprising herself with her boldness. "My place isn't far, and I make a mean omelet. Breakfast for midnight dinner."

Something darkened in Jax's eyes—not anger, but a hunger that sent heat spiraling through her. "I'd like that," he said, his voice rougher than before. "Lead the way."

As the valet brought their cars around, Lauren caught sight of Wilson watching them from the hotel entrance, his eyes narrowed and calculating as they tracked Jax's movements. When he noticed her looking, he raised his glass in a mocking toast before a security guard stepped between them, blocking him from view.

"Everything okay?" Jax asked, noticing her distraction.

"Fine," Lauren replied, deciding not to mention Wilson's continued presence. The last thing they needed was another confrontation.

As she slid into her car, Jax leaned down to the open window. "I'll follow you," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anticipation that matched the flutter in her stomach.

The short drive to her townhouse gave Lauren time to second-guess her impulsive invitation. What exactly was she doing, bringing a man she was still getting to know back to her home? A man whose career was built on controlled violence, whose public persona was so different from the private one she was discovering.

Yet as she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw his truck following steadily behind her, those doubts receded against the certainty that had been building over the past three weeks. Whatever was happening between them, it deserved a chance to unfold away from prying eyes and team obligations.

Her townhouse was modestly elegant, a reflection of her practical nature with occasional indulgences that spoke to her aesthetic sensibilities. As she led Jax inside, she was suddenly aware of how personal the space was—the way it revealed her priorities and habits in ways she normally kept private.

"Nice place," Jax said, his eyes taking in the comfortable furnishings, the wall of bookshelves, the collection of framed botanical prints. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Lauren replied, feeling oddly shy as she hung up his jacket and her coat. "Make yourself comfortable while I change into something less formal?"

Jax nodded, loosening his tie as he moved toward her living room. "Take your time."

In her bedroom, Lauren exchanged the emerald dress for slim black pants and a soft cream sweater, wiping away the heavier makeup from the evening in favor of a more natural look. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror, cheeks flushed with more than just the remnants of blush.

"What are you doing, Lauren?" she whispered to herself. But she already knew the answer, had known it since that first night when he'd cradled a tiny kitten in his massive hands.

She was choosing to trust her instincts about him, despite all the warning signs her past said she should heed. She was choosing to believe that control and restraint, when chosen rather than imposed, could be signs of strength rather than weakness.

She was choosing Jax.

Chapter Nine

Jax

Lauren's apartment was located in a converted warehouse near the water. The space was open and airy, with high ceilings and large windows currently reflecting the city lights. The furnishings were a blend of modern and vintage pieces, chosen for comfort rather than fashion, with colorful throw pillows scattered across every chair.

What caught his attention most, however, were the photographs that lined one wall—breathtaking nature shots and animal portraits that captured moments of startling intimacy.

"These are incredible," he said, moving closer to examine a particularly striking image of a wolf in mid-howl, snow swirling around its upturned muzzle.

"Thank you," Lauren said, coming out of the bedroom after changing into more comfortable clothes. He had slung off his jacket and stuffed his tie in his pocket. "Photography was my first love, before veterinary medicine. Now it's just a hobby."

"You took all of these?" Jax asked, genuinely impressed as he studied another photograph—a hummingbird captured in perfect stillness, its wings a blur of motion.

"Most of them," she confirmed, removing her heels with a sigh of relief. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll start on those omelets."

Jax continued to study the photos, drawn to the care and patience evident in each shot. They revealed something about Lauren he'd only glimpsed before—an artist's eye for beauty, a willingness to wait for the perfect moment, a respect for her subjects that translated into startling intimacy.

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