Chapter 155: Paige

Chapter 155: Paige
Jaxon steps onto the small porch, his movements confident, purposeful. I watch as he kneels beside one of the wooden beams supporting the overhang, his fingers brushing against the sun-warmed wood. His smirk is slight, almost amused, as he reaches into a nearly invisible gap and pulls out a small silver key.

“The real estate broker left it here for us,” he explains, holding it up between two fingers before glancing back at me. His grey eyes hold something unreadable, like he’s searching my face for a reaction.

Our house.

I still can’t believe it. The words feel foreign, unreal, like they belong to someone else. Not me. Not us. Not after everything we’ve been through.

I step up next to him, my heart hammering against my ribs as he fits the key into the lock and twists. The heavy wooden door groans open, revealing a dimly lit entryway, and the scent of salt air mixed with something faintly floral rushes toward me. It smells... untouched, yet inviting, as if the house has been waiting for us.

Jaxon steps inside first, his broad frame momentarily blocking my view. Then he turns, his hand outstretched. “Come on, princess.”

I slip my hand into his, stepping over the threshold, and the moment my feet touch the smooth, terracotta tiles, I feel it.

Home.

The high, white-washed ceiling stretches above us, lined with exposed wooden beams that give the space a warm, rustic feel. Large, woven pendant lights hang down in clusters, their soft curves contrasting with the sharp angles of the architecture. The living and dining areas blend together seamlessly—there’s a long wooden dining table surrounded by simple, woven chairs, a centerpiece of dried flowers adding a touch of color to the otherwise neutral palette. The walls are smooth, curved in places, almost like they were carved from stone.

To the right, a seating area is arranged around a low, wooden coffee table. There’s a deep mustard-colored armchair, a matching ottoman, and a sleek beige couch that looks like the kind you sink into and never want to leave. It all looks effortless, like someone decorated it with care but without trying too hard.

Jaxon watches me as I take it all in. His expression is unreadable again, like he’s waiting for me to say something.

I swallow, my throat tight. “It’s beautiful.”

His lips twitch, the ghost of a smirk. “Wait until you see the rest.”

He tugs me gently past the dining area and into the kitchen, where the scent of sun-baked clay and citrus lingers in the air. It’s narrow, with a charmingly uneven tiled floor, white wooden cabinets with wrought-iron handles, and terracotta countertops. Open wooden shelves line the walls, stocked with simple white dishes, neatly arranged spices, and glass jars filled with dried herbs and pasta. The backsplash is an intricate mix of faded blue and cream tiles, a little worn, a little imperfect—just like the rest of the house.

A soft ocean breeze drifts through the open doorway at the far end, leading to a small outdoor patio shaded by olive trees. The light filters in, golden and warm, casting soft shadows across the floor.

I run my fingers along the smooth tile of the countertop, my mind struggling to process the fact that this is ours. “How did you even find this place?”

Jaxon shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “I told you, I did my research.”

I shake my head, laughing softly. “This isn’t just research. This is—” I gesture around us, searching for the right word. “This is perfect.”

His gaze darkens slightly, but there’s something softer underneath. “I wanted you to have something good,” he says simply.

I don’t respond. I can’t. My chest is too tight, my heart too full.

Instead, I let him lead me down the hallway, past an arched doorway that reveals a bathroom straight out of a dream. The walls are smooth and curved, like a cave softened by time, with warm terracotta floors and a white freestanding tub positioned beneath a beautiful tiled alcove. The brass fixtures gleam under the soft light filtering in through a small window, and two linen towels hang neatly on the wall.

Jaxon chuckles at the way I linger by the doorway. “You’ll have plenty of time to take bubble baths later, princess.”

I roll my eyes but follow him, my pulse quickening when we step into the final room.

The bedroom.

The walls are exposed stone, rugged yet warm, framing a massive bed draped in crisp white linens and soft sage-green blankets. A woven rug covers part of the wooden floor, and just past the open glass doors, a private terrace overlooks the ocean. The water is breathtaking, stretching endlessly toward the horizon, its surface shimmering beneath the afternoon sun. Lush greenery frames the view, potted plants and vines spilling over the edges of the stone railing.

I step closer to the doors, gripping the frame as I stare out at the waves. “This is unreal.”

Jaxon steps up behind me, his chest pressing lightly against my back, his breath warm against my temple. “You like it?”

I turn, looking up at him, my hands resting against his chest. “I love it.”

Something shifts in his gaze—something deeper, something almost vulnerable. He lifts a hand, brushing my hair back from my face, his fingers lingering at my jaw.

His voice is rough when he speaks. “Good.”

And just like that, I know.

We’re home.

I let out a slow breath, still taking everything in—the warm sea breeze drifting through the open doors, the scent of salt and sun-baked stone, the way Jaxon’s presence feels so solid and certain beside me. Everything is so different from Alderstone, from the cold, grey city streets filled with people who wanted us dead. Here, the air is softer. The world is quieter. Safer.

Jaxon pulls back slightly, watching me with that unreadable expression he always gets when he’s thinking something he won’t say out loud. Then, his hand trails down my arm, his fingers brushing lightly against my wrist.

“You wanna rest while I go grab some groceries?” His voice is low, rough like always, but there’s something lighter underneath it now.

I blink, pulling myself out of the trance I’d fallen into just staring at the ocean. “I can come with you.”

His smirk is instant, like he was expecting me to say that. “Nah, princess. You should rest. Enjoy your new house.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes dark with something teasing, something that makes my stomach flutter. Then, with a slow, deliberate wink, he adds, “I’ll be back soon.”

I cross my arms, pretending like that wink didn’t just send warmth spreading through my entire body. “You just don’t want me to see the city before you, don’t you?”

His smirk deepens. “Busted.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. And for the first time in a long, long time, it feels like we can finally just exist.