She laughed. “Kind of hard to watch anything right now.”
He didn’t let go of her hand as he guided her forward, slow and steady. She felt grass beneath her boots, then solid wood like a porch. A faint scent of cedar and fresh paint filled the air.
“Okay,” he said, stopping behind her. “You ready?”
“Depends. Is this the part where you tell me we’re starting another op?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and soft near her ear. “Not even close.”
The blindfold slid away.
Avery blinked against the sunlight, and then her breath caught when she realized where they were.
Jackson’s ranch.
The one that’d been destroyed in that grenade attack orchestrated by Warren and the Brotherhood. But it wasn’t destroyed now.
They stood at the front door of his house, the afternoon light spilling across a porch with two rocking chairs and a wideswing hung at the far end. Beyond it stretched acres of pasture like paint against the field.
It was quiet. Peaceful.
Home.
Her throat tightened. “Jackson…”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “The team helped me get it rebuilt. Thought you might want a place that wasn’t filled with bullet holes.” His smile softened. “Figured we both could use one.”
Avery turned toward him, the sunlight catching in his eyes, and for a long moment, she couldn’t speak. Then she smiled, slow and sure.
After everything they’d survived, this was what waited for them.
Peace.
She stepped into him, looping her arms around his waist, and he held her close. “You were right,” she murmured against his chest. “It’s a good surprise.”
Jackson kissed the top of her head. “Told you.”
His mouth found hers before she could even finish smiling. The kiss was warm at first, soft and steady, but it deepened fast, like always. One second she was standing on her own, and the next her fingers were tangled in his shirt, holding on as the world narrowed to heat, breath, and the taste of him.
He kissed her like a man who’d missed her, like one who’d nearly lost everything and didn’t intend to waste another second of it. The kind of kiss that made thinking impossible.
It turned hot, fast.
Avery’s pulse raced as his hand slid to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. She sighed into him, every nerve coming alive. They’d found themselves here often over the last month, whenever the world went quiet long enough for the weight of everything to hit. Sex had become akind of language between them, a way to shut out the noise and remember they were still alive.
And yeah, if that’s where they were heading again, she wasn’t about to complain.
But as Jackson eased back just enough to look at her, his forehead resting against hers, she saw it—the small smile, the gentler one that didn’t come from heat or urgency. His breathing was rough, but his eyes were steady, clear.
No, this wasn’t about that. Not right now.
Avery’s chest ached in the best way. He could have pulled her down right there, could have let them both drown in the fire that always lived just under the surface. Instead, his hand came up, brushing her cheek, slow and reverent.
“Still think I can’t surprise you?” he murmured.
She laughed softly, breathless. “You’ve done a damn good job so far.”
His lips curved, brushing hers again, softer this time.