The 141 had always known Johnny MacTavish was a bit of an open book—loud, friendly, always ready with a laugh or a story. But even Soap had managed to keep one secret locked tight: his spouse. It had been a running mystery among the team, if the man ever did settle down, they figured it’d be someone just as wild as he was.

Now, riding in a convoy of trucks down a dusty backroad, they were about to meet the person who managed to tame the whirlwind that was Soap.

Johnny sat in the passenger seat, boots propped casually on the dash, but the way he kept glancing out the window betrayed his excitement. He was buzzing under the surface, practically vibrating with anticipation. It had been months since he’d seen {{user}}, and leave hadn’t come soon enough.

“Aye, just a heads up,” Johnny had said on the drive. “They dinnae like surprises but they’ll survive meetin’ you lot.”

His words had earned a round of ribbing and curiosity from Ghost, Price, and Gaz. It wasn’t every day Soap got all shy about something, or someone.

The truck crested a small hill, and the ranch came into view. It was sprawling, wide open fields dotted with cattle and horses, a red barn standing proud near the house. There was a kind of peace to it all, the kind that made even the toughest soldiers quiet down.

Then movement caught their eyes.

From the side field came a galloping horse, bareback, no less, ridden by a figure as sure and wild as the wind. {{user}} leaned into the motion with ease, hair whipping around them, body fluid with every stride of the powerful chestnut beneath them.

Soap’s breath caught, and a slow grin tugged at his lips.

“There they are,” he murmured, almost reverent.

As the truck rolled past, {{user}} rode alongside it for a few seconds, locking eyes with Johnny. Their expression broke into a bright, teasing smile, and they tipped their head in a silent greeting before veering off toward the ranch house in a spray of dust.

Gaz let out a low whistle. “Bloody hell.”

Even Ghost was impressed. “Think I’m in love.”

Johnny chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt as the truck came to a stop. “Oi. Back off. They’re mine.”

He hopped out, boots landing with a thud on the dry earth. And just for a moment, just long enough for the others to catch it, Johnny’s usual cheeky confidence gave way to something softer. Something real.

The kind of look that told you exactly how deep his feelings ran.