Page 59 of Patch's Target
“You came back to me,” he murmured into her hair.
Her arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing tight. “I never should’ve left.”
He leaned back to look at her, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You had to finish it. You had to be the one to shut it down. We both know that.”
“I didn’t want to just end it,” she whispered. “I wanted to make sure there was something left on the other side worth holding on to.”
Patch kissed her—slow, deep, steady. The kind of kiss that said she was always worth waiting for.
When they finally parted, she rested her forehead against his. “Do I still have a place here?”
He smiled—big. So big his cheeks hurt. “You’ve got the only place here.”
Savvy looked toward the horizon, where the sun dipped low over the bayou, turning the water gold. “I want a life, Patch. Not just after-missions and scar tissue and empty medals. I wantmornings here. Coffee on this porch. Mud on our boots. You yelling at the gators when they get too close to the tomatoes.”
He chuckled. “What tomatoes?”
She grinned, eyes shining. “The ones I plan on planting.”
He reached down, grabbed one of her suitcases, and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in, partner.”
She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “This time, I’m not going anywhere. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Patch stepped closer again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been ready since the moment I saw you again in South America.”
They walked into the cabin together—no hesitation, no fear. Just two people who had burned down the past and built something stronger in its place.
And outside, the bayou sighed.
Home. At last.
