He is perfect.
The little human staring up at me is completely and utterly perfect. The dark crop of hair on his tiny head, the long lashes framing big brown eyes that, if you didnât already know, tell you exactly who his mother is, those chubby fucking thighs that do weird things to my heart. For such a small thing, heâs so fucking warm, like a hot water bottle cradled in my arms.
âHe looks like Lux,â Jackson murmurs quietly, stroking a finger down one chubby cheek.
Thatâs undeniable. The baby is the spitting image of his mother. But thereâs something there, something thatâs undeniably someone else. âHe looks like you.â
Jackson beams.
Heâs smitten with his new nephew, completely fucking smitten. Every single thing about the kid fascinates him. Right now, itâs the way heâs wrapping his tiny fingers around Jacksonâs thumb, gnawing on it and gurgling happily.
Itâs been two weeks and the novelty of baby cuteness has yet to wear off. Even when heâs screaming his head off and keeping everyone awake and shitting and pissing everywhere. You get mad for a moment and then he does something adorable and you forget he vomited on your favorite shirt. I donât think any of us have ever been so unbothered while so sleep deprived because the kid is too fucking sweet.
Lux has taken to it all like a duck to water. Ironically, the only one who wasnât freaking out after her water broke was her. Grace looked terrified, Eliza looked like she was about to vomit, Lottie was yelling because she had Luxâs bodily fluids all over her shoes, and Jackson⦠God, I donât even want to remember what Jackson was like because honestly, it hurt to watch.
But through it all, Lux was calm. Stoic, almost. She handled it like a fucking badass and an ungodly amount of hours later, she held her little boy for the first time and cried her fucking eyes out.
For a whole fortnight, sheâs refused to leave his side but today, at the more than a little insistent prompting from her brother, she left us in charge of the kid. She was reluctantâif thereâs anything she hates more than taking her eyes off her kid, itâs accepting helpâbut the allure of a bath and her bed was too strong.
âHi, Alex,â Jackson coos softly, rubbing his nephewâs plump little tummy. âYou did so good today.â
I snicker quietly. âI still canât believe she actually called him Alexander.â
We thought she was joking, at first. We all had a little moment before we caught Luxâs deadpan expression and realized she was serious.
sheâd said.
And, well, shit. How can anyone argue with that?
Alexander Oscar Jackson.
Named after the two best people in the family, Lux joked.
Named after her two favorite people, she added, but I have a feeling one half of that joke is very, very genuine.
âReally?â Jackson chuckles quietly, tearing his eyes off the new love of his life long enough to look at the old one, brown eyes sparkling humorously at me. âIâm surprised she didnât go the full mile and call him Lux.â
My chest shakes with a laugh, disturbing the baby nestled against me. He cries out in a little whine and not a second passes before Jackson shushes him gently, carefully transferring Alex from my arms to his.
Sitting back in Luxâs ridiculously comfortable new rocking chair, I watch the two of them and, not for the first time, I fear Ben was right.
Something about a man and a baby really does make your reproductive organs weep.
Like I said, the man is smitten. Bottle feeds, diaper changes, baths, he does all of it with a smile. Every waking moment of Alexâs day, heâs got his uncle doting on him. I never thought Iâd be jealous of a baby but, yeah, Iâm a little jealous.
Jackson catches me staring and whatever expression Iâm sporting earns me an amused look. âWhat?â
âYou look good with a baby.â
His deep, husky laugh fades into a winced groan when Alex tugs on a strand of his hair. Carefully detangling his grabby hands, his head drops to kiss Alexâs cheek before he returns his attention to me. âLineâs gonna watch him tonight for a few hours.â
âOh?â
Jackson hums, the noise vibrating through Alexâs cheeks and making him kick his chubby little legs wildly. âI wanna take you somewhere.â
I perk up. âReally?â
âWhy do you sound surprised?â
âJust canât believe you can tear yourself away from him.â
Cradling the baby in one hand, he cups my cheek with the other, smoothing his thumb over my skin. âFeeling neglected?â
I scoff. âNo.â
Jackson chuckles quietly. Urging me to stand, he takes my seat before pulling me down on his lap, carefully resituating Alex so heâs cuddled between us. âIn case I havenât said it, thank you for helping so much the last few weeks.â
Shrugging, I catch one of Alexâs kicking feet in my hand. âI donât mind.â
âI know you donât.â Fingers curl beneath my chin and tilt my head towards Jackson. âBut thank you anyway.â
Unable to help myself, I steal the lightest of kisses. âYouâre welcome.â
âWhere are we going?â When my question is met by nothing but annoying silence, I groan. âCome on, not even a hint?â
More silence, only the twitch of his lips letting me know he heard me. With a huff, I slump in my seat and squint at our surroundings.
Trees. Thatâs my only clue. We drive past trees, and trees, and more trees. Vaguely familiar trees but trees all the same.
âAre you taking me to meet the new ranch hand?â
The excitement in my tone earns me some serious side-eye. Itâs not my fault; Iâve only been blessed with the man from a distance but Luxâs very detailed descriptions would spark anyoneâs curiosity.
is her new favorite motto.
For Godâs sake, even Caroline blushes at the mere mention of the man.
âWeâll be there soon.â
He sounds weird. Heâs weird. Acting all nervous. Shifty-eyed and twitchy. Stealing my move and tapping his fingers haphazardly against the steering wheel.
Itâs freaking me out more than a little, especially because the only thing coming to my mind that explains why the fuck heâs acting this way is honestly fucking terrifying.
âAre you proposing?â I blurt out before I can stop myself, and Jackson jolts in his seat. âJackson, I love you, but I swear to God if youâre proposing when I havenât gotten my nails done in almost a month-â
âRelax.â Iâm not sure if he laughs or chokes. âIâm not proposing.â
âThen why are you being all weird?â
âIâm not-â He cuts himself off, shaking his head. âJust wait, okay?â
.
Hm.
Iâve never been particularly good at that.
What feels like an hour but is realistically no more than a few minutes later, our surroundings become more recognizable.
The lookout point where I told him I loved him for the first time looks as beautiful as it did last year, except thereâs something remarkably different about it.
What once was an empty clearing is now what looks to be the beginnings of a construction site. Thereâs nothing but a raised foundation and some wooden framing, but I can tell itâs the shell of a house.
What. The. Fuck.
âJackson,â I breathe shakily, feet a little unsteady as I clamber out of the car. âWhat the hell is this?â
âMy house.â Shaky voice? Check. A touch of determination? Also check. âWell, it will be. When itâs built. I only finished the designs last month so it wonât be ready for a while.â
I blink at the enormous unfinished structure decorating whatâs arguably my favorite spot on the ranch, and then I blink at its owner. âYou designed this?â
He nods, lips tipping up in a boyish grin. âCanât quite build houses but I draw them pretty well.â
God, I remember that like it was yesterday. Seeing him in the art store and being so damn flustered, I blurted out the most dumbass question.
I knew what a goddamn architect was. I knew they didnât houses. But, for the first time of many in Jacksonâs presence, I panicked and my inner bimbo eagerly rose to the surface.
But then his mouth stretched in a smile, the first proper one I ever got from him, and my embarrassment dissipated. I remember thinking, damn, Iâd embarrass myself every day of my life for the rest of my life if I got that smile as a consolation prize.
Itâs the same smile he wears now as I stare blankly at him, my mind working overtime sifting through a million questions.
âYour grandparents let you build here?â I wouldnât think theyâd let him do anything that doesnât directly benefit them and building a house on a prime location for some new touristy shit doesnât seem very beneficial.
âUh, not exactly.â That nervous energy returns full-force, making him shift from one leg to the other, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. âThey donât own the ranch anymore. I do.â
Thereâs a pause. A long-ass pause in which those two words repeat on a loop in my head until they lose all meaning. âYou do.â
Jackson barely nods.
âYou own the ranch.â
He nods again, a little more sure this time.
âYou bought this ranch.â
âYeah, sweetheart, I did.â
âYou bought Serenity Ranch and you didnât tell me.â
Jackson winces.
âWhen?â
âUh.â One big shaky hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. âThe beginning of the year.â
âThe beginning of year?â
He winces again.
Months.
Months ago he bought this place.
Months in which . âAnd you didnât tell me?â
âI didnât want to freak you out.â
He didnât want to freak me out.
That, at least, I can understand.
He didnât want to drop a ranch-sized bomb right when we were getting back to normal.
How nice of him.
âSo youâre gonna live here? Permanently?â
Jacksonâs sad smile conveys heâs thinking the exact same thing. âThatâs the plan. Iâm sorry I didnât tell you sooner.â
âItâs okay.â And it is. I think, deep down, I suspected heâd move back here. He never really suited the city, not like he suits this place. Iâm not, like, mad or anything.
Iâm just not quite sure where it leaves me.
Swallowing hard, my gaze drifts back to the bare-bones structure. âBig house for one person.â
âThatâs true.â Tentative steps approach me from behind, nervous hands settling on my hips. âGotta have room for my sisters.â
âObviously.â
âAnd one for Alex.â
âIâd be surprised if there wasnât.â
âAnd an apartment above the garage for Ben.â
That pulls a laugh out of me. âOf course.â
Strong arms lock across my stomach and pull me back against a hard chest, warm breath tickling my cheek. âAnd room for all your shit.â
My breath catches in my throat. âI think you underestimate how much shit I have.â
âThereâs room, sweetheart. Whatever you want, thereâs room for it.â
I turn in his arms, my fingers grasping his collar so tightly I practically have him in a chokehold. âAre you serious?â
âAs a heart attack.â
The back of my hand meets his chest. âDonât tease.â His mischievous smile smoothes out into a serious expression, and I try again. âThis isnât us sharing a room. This is sharing a .â
A whole ass house.
house. A very fucking permanent house that he designed for his family. For us.
âLuna,â Jackson says softly, both hands moving to tuck my hair behind my ears before cupping my face. âI know this isnât very romantic and youâre supposed to be romantic when youâre asking someone to live with you.â A very ugly noise rips from my throat. âIf you say no, Iâll understand. Iâll still love you.â
I wait for it. I wait for the voice in my head to tell me to run, for the âleave first before they leave youâ mentality to kick in and ruin everything.
I almost cry when it doesnât.
It takes several deep breaths and a brief moment of internally bullying myself to suck it up, but I eventually manage to breathe out, âGo on, then. Ask me.â
He laughs so hard it vibrates through my entire body. âYou wanna make this our house, sweetheart?â
For maybe the first time in my life, I donât hesitate.
âFuck yeah.â