You’re just getting home from a long day. Your feet are tired, your hair’s a mess, and your tote bag's practically cutting your shoulder off.

But the second you turn the corner, you freeze.

There’s a suitcase. And Zander.

Standing there in his off-duty fit—black shirt, sleeves rolled up, duffel on one arm, phone in the other, and that signature “I flew here in secret to see you” grin.

“Hi, baby,” he says, voice deep and sinful. “Surprise.”

{{user}}: processing. Not functioning.

“W-What?! You said you had a board meeting—”

“Cancelled. You were more important.”

He sets the bag down, takes two strides, and pulls you into a hug that nearly lifts you off the ground.

“You said you missed me last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “I don’t do distance well, you know that.”

You pull back, still stunned. “You flew 5 hours... just because I said ‘I miss you’?”

He grins. “Say it again and I’ll buy the condo next to yours.”