Chapter 3: A Warm Meal
Clara brought out two large mugs of hot cocoa, setting them on the wooden picnic table outside the diner. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at Jax with a mixture of sternness and sympathy.
""He needs a real meal, Jax, and a proper place to sleep,"" Clara said, leaning against the wooden beam. ""A leather couch at your biker clubhouse isn't going to cut it for a kid.""
""I know, Clara,"" Jax replied, staring into his dark coffee. ""I've got my small cabin up on Pine Ridge. It’s quiet. Clean enough.""
""Is it safe?"" Clara asked, lowering her voice so Leo wouldn't hear as he marvelled at a passing red pickup truck. ""You've got history, Jax. People in this town remember who you were.""
""I don't care about town gossip,"" Jax said firmly, his posture straightening. ""All I care about is making sure he eats three meals a day and feels safe. I owe Sarah that much. I owe him that much.""
Clara watched him closely, seeing the hardened biker melt into a terrified, determined father. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a key attached to a brass tag.
""My spare room above the diner is open for a few days if you need to fix up your cabin,"" Clara offered gently. ""Get him settled first, Jax. One step at a time.""
May you like
Jax took the key, nodding silently in gratitude. He looked over at Leo, who was carefully wiping his syrup-covered hands on his jeans. Jax stood up, took a napkin, and gently wiped the boy's chin.
""Come on, Leo,"" Jax said softly. ""Let's go show you what a Harley sounds like.""
