His Forever Ride

Chapter Five – Home, Sweet Chaos

The smell hit Taylor before her eyes even opened.

Warm, rich, and a little sweet—definitely not the basic drip Jax kept on standby. No, this was foamed milk and fresh espresso. This was intentional.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, and she reached out across the sheets for Jax.

His side of the bed was warm but empty. The low murmur of voices filtered up from downstairs.

She stretched and sat up, running a hand through her hair, the scent of breakfast now floating up to meet the cappuccino: cinnamon, bacon, butter.

What in the world...?

Taylor padded barefoot down the stairs in one of Jax’s old t-shirts, following the sound of soft music and the low hiss of a milk frother.

And then she saw it.

Maddie stood at the kitchen counter, barefoot in leggings and an oversized hoodie, pouring steamed milk into a mug with her tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.

The kitchen was chaos in the best way. Pancakes stacked on a plate. A pan of scrambled eggs staying warm on the stove. Sliced fruit arranged with ridiculous care in a shallow bowl. Bacon crackling behind her like a soundtrack to her genius.

Jax sat at the counter, watching the whole show unfold with mild suspicion, a black coffee in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face.

“Okay, wow,” Taylor said, eyes wide. “Did I die in my sleep and wake up in a brunch dream?”

Maddie grinned. “Ta-da! I made you a cappuccino. With actual foam. You’re welcome.”

Taylor crossed the room immediately and hugged her sister tight. “You remembered.”

Maddie pulled back with a proud smile. “Of course I remembered. One sugar, extra foam. I don’t forget the important stuff.”

Taylor took the mug and sipped, closing her eyes as the warmth hit her tongue. Perfect.

“If you keep this up,” she said, nudging Maddie’s arm, “Jax is going to go full protective big brother mode on you.”

Jax arched a brow. “Already thinking about it.”

“Don’t scare her off,” Taylor warned, sliding onto the stool beside him.

“She cooked,” Jax said, sipping his coffee. “She gets a grace period.”

Maddie plated the last pancake and turned toward them, hands on her hips. “Look, I figure if I make myself useful, no one will question why I’m still here in a week.”

“You’re already useful,” Taylor said. “But cappuccinos and crispy bacon? That’s next-level charm.”

Jax said nothing, but Taylor caught the twitch of a smile tugging at his mouth.

As they dug into the meal, Taylor glanced around at the messy, lively kitchen—the laughter, the low music, the steady hum of something new beginning.

Maddie belonged here already.

And Taylor had never been more certain of that.

Maddie finally joined them at the table, cappuccino in hand and hair falling loose around her shoulders, looking way too pleased with herself for someone who’d just cooked a full breakfast.

Taylor tucked her legs beneath her, watching as Maddie grabbed a plate and casually piled on eggs, fruit, and exactly three pancakes like she’d been doing this her whole life.

“This is amazing,” Taylor said, for the third time. “Seriously, if you keep this up, I’m going to start charging Jax for letting you live here.”

“I’m just trying to earn my keep,” Maddie said, flashing a grin.

Jax, quiet as usual, cut into his eggs with slow precision. Taylor watched him from the corner of her eye—his shoulders were looser than they’d been the night before, but he was still in observe mode.

And then Maddie did what Taylor had absolutely been waiting for.

“So,” Maddie said, tilting her head toward Jax. “What do you do, exactly?”

Jax’s fork paused mid-air. “Excuse me?”

Taylor almost choked on her bite of pancake. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh out loud.

“I mean, clearly you work out,” Maddie continued casually, sipping her coffee like this was normal. “You’ve got that whole... motorcycle outlaw energy going on. But like, what’s your actual job title? Enforcer? Biker-in-chief?”

Taylor gave up and let out a quiet snort, biting back a full laugh.

Jax gave Maddie a long, flat look.

“You always ask questions like that?” he asked.

Maddie didn’t flinch. “Only when I want to know the answer.”

Taylor leaned her chin into her hand, grinning. “If you thought I was trouble when we met... you have no idea.”

“She’s not trouble,” Maddie said, grinning at Jax. “She’s calculated chaos. I’m more spontaneous.”

“Great,” Jax muttered, still chewing.

Taylor sipped her cappuccino, watching the exchange like it was a morning show she never wanted to turn off.

“Jax runs the club,” Taylor said, her voice light but steady. “He makes sure the town doesn’t fall apart and that no one messes with what’s his.”

Maddie glanced at him, curious. “So you’re like... mayor of the underworld?”

Jax didn’t answer. He just raised his brows slightly and kept eating.

Taylor leaned closer to Maddie. “That means yes.”

Maddie gave a low whistle. “Damn. This place really has everything.”

Taylor laughed again, warmth settling in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time a morning felt like this—full of sunshine and sass and actual ease.

Maddie might’ve been a spark plug, but she was theirs now.

And Jax?

He was already adjusting. Whether he liked it or not.

By the time the second round of coffee was poured and the pancake stack had taken a noticeable hit, Maddie was fully in her element.

“So wait,” Maddie said, gesturing at Jax with her fork, “do you have like a corner office in the clubhouse or is it more... gritty backroom, leather chair, cigar smoke kind of vibe?”

Taylor tried—and failed—not to laugh.

Jax looked over his coffee cup with a deadpan expression. “You think we sit around like it’s a mob movie?”

“I mean…” Maddie grinned. “Don’t you?”

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.

Taylor leaned back in her chair, watching it all unfold with pure delight. This was gold. Better than TV.

“I just don’t get how you go from running ‘the club’ to looking like you’re five minutes away from building a treehouse,” Maddie added, gesturing toward the windows. “You’ve got this whole dad-energy thing happening now.”

Jax froze mid-sip.

Taylor’s eyes widened.

Maddie blinked. “What? Too soon?”

Before Taylor could rescue the situation, the front door creaked open without a knock—then a familiar voice cut through the morning:

“Jax?”

Kellan stepped inside, half-expecting trouble, half-prepared to drag Jax out the door. He paused when he saw all of them at the table—plates half-empty, mugs scattered, sunlight pouring through the windows like something out of a life not often lived by men like them.

He hesitated.

“You eat yet?” Taylor asked, smiling up at him.

He blinked. “I wasn’t planning to stay.”

“Nonsense,” Maddie said, already reaching for a clean plate. “You’re sitting. I made pancakes. I’ll be personally offended if you say no.”

Kellan glanced at Jax like he needed permission.

Jax sighed. “Sit down. You’re already in the kitchen.”

Kellan dropped into the empty seat across from Maddie, who wasted no time loading up a plate for him. “You’re the famous second-in-command, right?”

He looked faintly amused. “I guess.”

Maddie leaned forward with faux seriousness. “So what’s your title? Vice Lord of Chaos? Minister of Mayhem?”

Taylor covered her face with one hand, laughing.

Kellan cracked the barest smile. “Just Kellan works.”

“Well, just Kellan, you’re about to eat the best pancakes of your life,” Maddie said, pushing the plate toward him like a challenge. “You’re welcome.”

Kellan looked between the sisters, the food, and the mostly-silent Jax, then slowly dug in.

Taylor watched it all settle into something real. Maddie’s laughter filling the kitchen, Kellan’s usual stillness softening at the edges, and Jax—grumpy, protective Jax—gritting his teeth through a smile he pretended not to have.

Family. Not in blood, but in choice.

And Taylor? She felt something tighten in her chest in the best possible way.

This was the life they’d fought for.

And in moments like this, it felt like they were finally living it.

The kitchen had settled into a low hum—the kind of warmth that lingered after laughter. Plates clinked gently as Jax and Maddie cleared the table together, Maddie firing off another round of questions with a grin that only widened when Jax groaned in response.

Taylor watched them from the couch, still barefoot, cappuccino back in her hands. The living room was cooler, the windows cracked open just enough to let in the breeze. Kellan lingered by the open doorway, arms folded, eyes drifting between the backyard and the hardwood beneath his boots.

She tilted her head, studying him.

“You okay?” she asked.

He glanced at her, then nodded once. “Just not used to all the...normal.”

Taylor smiled, motioning toward the other couch. “Sit for a second.”

He did, hesitating like the furniture might bite, but eventually sank into the cushions with a slow exhale.

Taylor sipped her drink. “It’s weird, right? How quiet can be the hardest thing to trust.”

Kellan looked over at her, the edge of his mouth twitching. “Yeah. Feels like something’s about to break.”

“It’s not,” she said gently. “At least not today.”

He nodded, then looked toward the kitchen. Maddie was still talking, still poking at Jax like it was her job.

“Your sister’s got bite.”

Taylor grinned. “She was born swinging. I didn’t stand a chance growing up.”

“She’s... sharp,” Kellan said, careful with the word. “Not what I expected.”

“She’s good at surprising people.” Taylor leaned her head back against the couch. “She’s figuring things out. She came here for space. To breathe.”

Kellan looked thoughtful for a moment. “That sounds familiar.”

Taylor turned toward him more fully. “You’re worried.”

He didn’t deny it.

“You think Jax’ll lose his mind if she gets too close,” she said softly.

Kellan’s jaw shifted slightly. “I think he’s already thinking ten steps ahead. Club. Dani. Territory lines we don’t draw on maps.”

“I know.” Taylor’s voice lowered. “But Maddie’s not stupid. And I trust her.”

Kellan didn’t answer at first.

Then: “Do you trust me?”

Taylor met his eyes. “I do.”

A pause.

“She’ll make her own choices, Kellan,” she added, voice gentle but clear. “Just like I did.”

Kellan leaned back into the couch, silent again, but this time something eased in his shoulders.

In the kitchen, Maddie’s voice rang out: “Wait—how many tattoos do you actually have?”

Taylor smirked.

“God help him,” she muttered.

Kellan just shook his head.

“Too late,” he said. “She’s already in his head.”

From the living room, Taylor heard the soft clatter of dishes and the low murmur of conversation—well, Maddie’s voice, mostly. Jax had the patience of a man trained in chaos, but even he had his limits, and Maddie was gleefully toeing the line.

Taylor smiled to herself, sipping the last of her cappuccino, listening without listening.

Then she caught the shift.

It was subtle—Maddie’s voice softening, the edge of humor in her words giving way to something a little more real.

“So,” Maddie said over the sound of running water, “do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?”

A pause.

Taylor sat up slightly, her attention narrowing.

Jax’s voice came slower this time. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Maddie said, “do you ever actually let yourself be happy? Or are you always waiting for the next fire to put out?”

Silence.

Even Kellan, still sitting beside her, turned his head toward the kitchen.

Taylor held her breath.

From the doorway, she could just see Jax’s back—rigid, broad, still as stone. Maddie stood beside him at the sink, her profile tilted, watching him carefully.

“I’ve seen the way you watch people,” Maddie added, quieter now. “Even this morning. You’re always clocking exits. Measuring threats.”

Taylor’s heart tugged at that, the accuracy of it. The truth.

Jax’s voice, when it came, was low and rough. “That’s how I keep everyone safe.”

Maddie didn’t flinch. “And who keeps you safe?”

That hit harder than she meant it to—Taylor could tell from the silence that followed. Jax didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

And that, more than anything, told Taylor just how deep Maddie had reached.

Before it could hang too long, Maddie filled the air again, casually. “You don’t have to answer. Just figured... if you’re building a life with my sister, I’d like to know what kind of guard dog she’s got.”

Jax exhaled something close to a laugh. Dry. Cautious.

“You don’t pull punches,” he said.

“Nope,” Maddie said, popping the p. “Terrible habit.”

Another quiet beat.

“You want the truth?” Jax asked.

Taylor stood now, moving toward the kitchen doorway slowly.

Maddie nodded. “Always.”

Jax turned slightly toward her, meeting her eyes for the first time all morning.

“I don’t know how to stop,” he said. “I try. For Taylor. But I’m wired for war. Even in peace.”

Taylor’s breath caught in her throat.

And Maddie, to her credit, didn’t laugh or shrug it off.

She just said, “Okay.”

Simple. Understanding.

Then she added, “Good thing she’s the kind of woman who makes you want to keep trying anyway.”

Jax didn’t answer.

He just handed her a clean dish towel.

And Taylor, standing quietly in the archway, thought—

Maybe that was as close to trust as he’d ever given anyone that fast.