“Even when I’m an idiot?”
“Even then.”
He laughs—quiet, rough, genuine. The sound vibrates through his chest against my cheek.
“Good to know I have job security.”
I shift, propping myself up on one elbow so I can look down at him. His hair is a mess, his eyes still slightly unfocused from sleep, stubble darkening his jaw. He looks rumpled and human and absolutely perfect.
“You know what I realized last night?” I ask.
“What?”
“You’re not as in control as you pretend to be.”
His eyebrow raises. “That’s what you realized?”
“You present this image—tactical genius, always three steps ahead, never rattled, never uncertain. But with me?” I trace the line of his jaw with my finger. “You fall apart. You spiral. You lose your mind at the thought of losing me. And that’s...” I search for the right word. “That’s kind of hot, actually.”
“Hot.” He sounds skeptical.
“Yeah. Hot. The idea that I can make Jace Moreau—Mr. Tactical Precision himself—completely lose his shit? That’s power, Jace. That’s you being vulnerable enough to let me see that I matter. That we matter. That the thought of losing this is enough to break through all that control you’ve spent years building.”
His hand moves from my hair to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “You terrify me,” he admits quietly. “The depth of what I feel for you, how much I need you—it’s not tactical. It’s not controlled. It’s messy and overwhelming and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it except to try to protect it. Protect you. Even when that means making stupid decisions like investigating instead of trusting.”
“I know.” I lean into his touch. “And I’m going to teach you how to handle it better. How to talk to me instead of spiraling. How to trust me even when things get complicated. How to be vulnerable without falling apart.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Good thing I’m patient.”
“Are you though?” His smile is slight but genuine. “Because I seem to remember you beating the shit out of me and Cal in the gym two days ago when you ran out of patience.”
“That was different. That was making a point.”
“And this isn’t?”
“This is...” I lean down, my lips brushing against his. “This is me deciding you’re worth the effort. All three of you. Even when you’re idiots. Even when you fuck up. Even when you make me want to scream.”
“Just to be clear,” Jace murmurs against my mouth, “are we talking about the good kind of screaming or the bad kind?”
I laugh, the sound surprising me. “Depends on the day.”
“Fair.”
I kiss him properly then—slow and deep, taking my time, tasting sleep and mint toothpaste and something that’s purely Jace. His hand slides from my face down to my waist, pulling me more firmly against him, and I can feel the evidence that he’s very much awake now pressing against my hip.
“Parker,” he breathes when I pull back.
“Jace.”
“The boys are at the main house?”
“Won’t be back until after lunch.”
“And Cal and Silas are meeting with Charles?”
“For at least another hour.”
