Page 120 of Pucking Daddy

“Yeah,” he says.

Something inside me twists.

“Jax,” I breathe, shaking my head slightly. “Why would you—” I break off, pressing a hand to my chest as my emotions scatter in every direction. “Why would you do that without even talking to me?”

His jaw tightens slightly.

“Because if I’d asked,” he says quietly, “you would’ve said no.”

I blink. Because he’s right. I would have.

I let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through my hair.

“That’s not the point,” I say, even though it kind of is.

“It is the point,” he counters, his voice still calm but firmer now. “You’ve been carrying that on your own. You shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s not yours to fix,” I shoot back.

His eyes flash, just briefly. “I told you. You’re mine to take care of.”

God. Part of me wants to believe that.

My throat tightens painfully, and I think about the fact that he chose to spend his money on something that matters to me. He’s not someone who makes decisions lightly. I know that.

I press my lips together, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to choke me.

I shake my head, tears finally slipping free.

“This is too much,” I whisper.

His gaze drops to my face, to the tears, and something in him shifts.

“Hey,” he says, softer now.

He closes the distance, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.

I don’t pull away. I can’t.

“It’s not too much,” he murmurs. “Not for me.”

“It is for me,” I say, my voice breaking. “No one’s ever—no one just does something like that for me, Jax.”

His thumb brushes lightly under my eye, catching a tear.

“Well,” he says quietly, “get used to it.”

A laugh breaks out of me, wet and unsteady.

I shake my head again, then—without thinking—I step into him.

My arms wrap around his waist, holding on. Tight.

He exhales softly, like he’s been waiting for that, and his arms come around me immediately, pulling me closer.

“I don’t even know how to thank you,” I mumble against his chest.

“You don’t have to,” he says.