Page 222 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
Soft.
Familiar.
I straighten without thinking, my focus snapping immediately as they come into view.
Zach first. Then her. And the difference in her hits me instantly. It’s subtle.
But it’s there.
The tension she’s been carrying since we brought her home is… lighter. Not gone, but loosened. There’s something in her again, something that had gone quiet.
Something that looks a hell of a lot like herself.
My chest tightens at the sight of it.
Because this is what I’ve been trying to give her back. And I wasn’t the one who did it.
Jackson looks up from the stove the second they walk in, already moving toward her like it’s instinct.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
His voice is soft, but there’s tension under it, something tightly wound that hasn’t settled.
He steps into her space, his hand coming up to cup her face before he kisses her.
And it’s not restrained. It’s not careful. It’s slow. Grounded. Claiming. The kind of kiss he used to give her before everything happened.
The kind that tells her exactly what she is to him without needing words.
I know that kiss. I know what it does to her. And I watch the way she leans into it, the way her body softens under his touch like she’s been waiting for it, like she needed it.
Something tight pulls low in my chest. Not anger. Recognition. Because I know exactly what that is. And I know why she needed it.
Zach doesn’t look away.
He watches it, calm, controlled, like he understands exactly what’s happening. Like he made space for it.
And I... I stay exactly where I am. Because I understand it too. Even if every part of me wants to step in and take that space back.
Jackson pulls away slowly, his thumb brushing over her cheek before he guides her toward the table.
“Sit,” he says lightly. “Before this burns.”
She glances at the plates and lets out a soft laugh.
“Nothing’s burnt?”
“I can cook when I need to,” he shoots back, a hint of something lighter breaking through.
Zach huffs a quiet laugh, grabbing plates and moving beside her, his hand brushing her back like it belongs there.
We settle into the table. For a second, it almost feels normal. Then Jackson puts his fork down.
“I want to have a discussion about the relationship.”
My attention snaps to him. Lia looks at him calmly.
“Okay. What’s the discussion?”
