“You wanted me crashing out about a fucking sundress.” He kept stroking deep and steady, one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her neck. Her soft whimpers filled the study until she came again, trembling around him. Najee followed right after, burying himself deep and filling her with a quiet groan. They barely had time to catch their breath before he pulled her into the walk-in shower tucked off the study. The water ran hot over them in the raw, unfinished space.
Afterward they settled on a heavy drop cloth, wrapped together in a clean sheet, skin still warm and damp. The lunch bags sat open between them, the familiar smells ofSouth Flavorsfilling the quiet study. Jackie picked at her food with her fork, fake-mad energy still rolling off her. “I can’t believe you came up here and did that, with the crew right outside. How am I supposed to look Punchy and Carlos in the face tomorrow?” Najee leaned back against the wall, legs stretched out, a small smile tugging at his lips. “First of all, it’s Pedro and Miguel. And this isn’t just your worksite, Jackie. This is your house too.”
The words hung in the air. It was the first time he’d ever said them out loud. But that’s exactly how he felt. It had been Six months since they made it official. Now they were living and working together—and he had never been happier. Jackie was the missing piece. He never realized how lonely he had been until she and Max filled his days. He couldn’t imagine waking up without her, eating her cooking, dropping Max off at school, or taking him to museums in Center City.
The first few months had growing pains, especially sneaking around for Max’s sake. But once Dr. Ish gave them the tools to introduce the relationship without causing harm, everything shifted. Jackie shook her head, still not quite meeting his eyes. “No… it’s yours. I’m only handling the interiors.” He reached over slowly, turning her chin so she had to look at him. “Itmay have started that way, but it isn’t anymore. Your house on Bouvier is basically finished, Koi and his team only have the central air left. You’ve already talked about letting Kormia stay there until her condo situation gets sorted out. Every corner of this place carries your touch, your vision… and most importantly, your love.”
He saw the tears starting to well and tried to lighten it with a playful smirk.
“Girl, I’m trying to grow old with your ass.”
When that didn’t fully land, he motioned for her to sit between his legs. Once her back rested against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. “Look at me,” he said softly. She slowly tilted her head up. “Nobody will ever take anything else from you again. You hear me? Not my family. Not anyone else.” His voice sharpened with quiet intensity. “Do you hear me?” She nodded.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “My lawyer has already drawn up the paperwork. This house, the assets—everything is protected for you and the boys if anything ever happens to me. You won’t have to fight or prove a thing.” He held her tighter, voice dropping back to that calm, steady tone she knew so well. “I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to understand—this isn’t just my house. It’s ours. You’re not ‘just decorating,’ Jackie. You’re building our life here.” They sat quietly eating for a while until Jackie broke the silence. “I saw the Cash and Zambia wedding invitation in the mail the other day. It’s three weeks away and you still haven’t RSVP’d.” Najee stayed quiet. He hadn’t seen his cousin since the winter gala, when they had to physically pull Najee’s hands from around his neck.
The fight had been ugly. Cash landed one hard hit, but Najee gave as good as he got. That same night Uncle Amin and his father forced them to talk. Most of Cash’s rage had been about Jackie—he still had feelings for her. Six months of avoiding eachother had followed. Najee had heard Cash moved in with Zambia and they were trying to make it work. Monty had texted him about tomorrow’s fitting, but Najee still wasn’t sure he wanted to go. “I think you should go,” Jackie said, biting into a jerk egg roll. “That’s your family. He needs your support. Besides… y’all already beat the shit out of each other.”
Najee remained silent and held her a little tighter. “I’ll go to the fitting and the wedding,” he said after a long moment, “but you have to be my plus one and move here with me come the fall. You and Max.” She looked up at him, playfully rolling her eyes before settling back into his chest with a soft sigh. “Deal,” she smiled. They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, both dozing off.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
JACKIE
Six months later…
For the first time in a long time Jackie wasn’t just surviving… she was living.
The realization hit her as she stood barefoot in the kitchen of the brownstone, sipping coffee while sunlight poured through the oversized windows overlooking Rittenhouse Square. Outside, the park was packed. People walked dogs, kids chased pigeons, and tourists stopped to take pictures by the fountain. The city was finally awake again after a long winter, and somehow Jackie felt like she was waking up too. It had been six months since she moved into the brownstone. Six months since Najee looked her in the face and told her he was all in. And the craziest part? He still hadn’t changed his mind.
For the first few months, Jackie kept waiting for the catch. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because, in her experience, that’s how love worked. There was always a condition attached to it. Always a hidden price somewhere in the fine print. But Najee never asked her for anything. He just showed up, every day, for her, for Max. For all the little things nobody had ever shown up for before. The school drop-offs, the parent-teacher conferences, the Arabic homework. The random Tuesday afternoons when she was overwhelmed and didn’t even realize it until he handed her a cup of tea and told her to sit down somewhere. The late nights when she woke up crying over a sonwhose voice she hadn’t heard in months. It had been months since Marcus called in the middle of the night threatening her.
For a long time, the only people who knew about those calls were Kormia and Syxe.
But eventually she broke down and told Najee. She still remembered the look on his face when he realized she’d been carrying all of that alone. He never judged her or made her feel weak for answering Marcus’s calls. He simply made room for everything she felt, never rushing her or asking her to explain the parts she wasn’t ready to say out loud. And somehow that scared her more than the threats ever did. Still there was a transitional period. The biggest adjustment wasn’t the support Najee provided her. It wasn’t even waking up every morning in Rittenhouse looking out over one of the most expensive zip codes in the city. It was learning how torest.
Jackie had spent so much of her life fighting for every damn thing she had that she didn’t know what to do when the fight was over. Now her mornings were slower and more deliberate. If she wasn’t doing Pilates and SoulCycle with Syxe. She was staging properties for Koi. Checking in on her house or booking events forJackie of All Trades. Some days she slept in. Some days she didn’t get dressed until noon. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel guilty about it. At least not anymore. Softness was her birthright. It had taken Jackie damn near thirty-seven years to figure that out.
For so long she thought rest was something you earned after the work was done. But the work was never done. There was always another bill, another shift, another problem, another person needing something from her. Now she was finally learning that peace wasn’t something she had to fight for. Sometimes it was something she could simply accept. The only person still struggling to accept Jackies soft landing was Najee’s hating ass aunt.Sister Malika.
Well… not really. Sister Malika loved Fat Daddy. Now Jackie? That was a different story. When Najee told his aunt they were together, Sister Malika gave him an ultimatum: Leave Jackie. Or lose his position at the school. Najee submitted his resignation before the close of business that same day. Jackie still remembered the look on her face when she found out. Three weeks later Sister Malika hired him back. Two weeks after that she invited all of them to the Winter Gala. It wasn’t an apology. Sister Malika didn’t apologize. But it was an olive branch. Astubbornone.
The entire night she and the rest of the family treated Jackie like decorative furniture. Jackie didn’t mind, she spent most of the evening mentally tearing apart the tacky-ass decor. But the night ended in chaos when Cash lost it, and they had to physically pry Najee off him. Thank God Max had already left with Syxe by then. Najee never gave her the full details of the fight.
But Jackie wasn’t stupid. She knew it had everything to do with her.
She took another sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle in her chest. Tomorrow was Cash’s wedding fitting. Najee had finally agreed to go, on the condition that she and Max moved with him into the Bryn Mawr house come fall. She had said yes without hesitation. Because this soft landing she had found? She wanted it. All the way. Still, a small knot of nerves twisted in her stomach. Old shit had a way of resurfacing. Only this time, Jackie Brown wasn’t facing it alone.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
NAJEE
The smell of onions and peppers woke him up before his alarm did.
Najee opened one eye and smiled. Jackie wascooking. And not the usual weekday scramble she threw together before school and work. This was a full-blown production, and Najee could smell it. He could hear the scrape of the spatula against the cast iron, as music played low from Jackies portable Bose speaker. He lay there a moment longer, just listening. Then he rolled over and reached for her side of the bed. It was cold. She’d been up awhile. By the time he made it downstairs, Jackie had completely taken over the kitchen. Turkey scrapple. Scrambled eggs. Home fries loaded with onions, Jalapeno peppers, and cheese. French toast—the good kind made with challah bread that took entirely too much effort for a random Friday morning. “Damn,” he said, stopping at the island.
“What we celebrating?” Jackie didn’t even look up from the stove.
“Negro, please don’t act like I don’t feed y’all asses.”