Jax pulled up to the small Craftsman house with the sound of Abel’s laughter spilling out through an open window, light and bright in a way that eased something tight in his chest. He hadn’t been here before—only heard Gemma mention the new mom in town, the one whose kid had practically glued herself to Abel since the first day of school. Usually Gemma handled the pickups, the introductions, the small-town pleasantries Jax never had the patience for. But today she’d shoved the address into his hand and told him to “be a damn parent,” so here he was, knocking once before the door swung open.

He expected toys, maybe a TV running cartoons, the usual chaos that came with little kids—but he didn’t expect her.