"I had a whole speech prepared," he murmurs. "For if things went the other way. About how we'd figure it out, find positions at another hospital, start fresh somewhere else if we had to."
My throat tightens at the casual way he includes himself in that scenario—the immediate assumption that wherever I go, he goes too. As if there was never any question that we're a package deal now.
"You would have left?" I whisper, still not quite believing the depth of what he's offering. "Given up everything you've built here?"
His dark eyes meet mine. "For you? In a heartbeat." His thumbs continue their gentle path across my skin. "I wasn't kidding when I said I can't wait to see what our future holds, Mia. Whatever comes next—good cases, bad cases, hospital politics, family drama—I want to face it all with you."
The tears I've been fighting finally spill over, trickling down to meet his fingers still cradling my face.
"When I met you," I manage, my voice shaky but determined, "I thought you were the most arrogant, infuriating man I'd ever encountered."
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "To be fair, I was."
"You were," I agree, unable to help my own smile. "But you were also brilliant and passionate and cared about yourpatients." My hands smooth over his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my palm. "And now you're mine."
"Yours," he confirms, pressing a kiss to my forehead that's so tender it makes fresh tears spill over my lids. "Always."
Tilting my face up, I seek out his mouth again. This kiss is slower, deeper, a promise rather than a desperate claim. When we part, Sebastian's eyes have darkened and his breathing is uneven it sends heat pooling low in my belly.
"So," he says, voice low, "how should we celebrate?"
"Dinner with Laney and Arjun this weekend," I reply, trying to sound casual despite the way my pulse races when his hands slip inside my lab coat to settle at my waist. "But tonight..."
"Tonight?" he prompts, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin.
"Tonight is just for us."
His smile turns wicked, and he leans down until his lips brush the shell of my ear. "Good," he whispers, "because I've been thinking about bending you over this desk since the moment I walked in. Want to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days."
The words send a jolt of pure desire through me and my face flushes hot as my body instantly responds to the explicit promise. Sebastian's always had this effect on me—the ability to unravel me with nothing but his voice, to make me want with an intensity that should be frightening but instead feels like coming home.
"Dr. Walker," I manage, aiming for scandalized but landing somewhere closer to breathless, "that's highly inappropriate workplace behavior."
"Then it's a good thing we're about to leave the workplace," he counters, pressing a quick, hard kiss to my mouth before stepping back. "My place or yours tonight?"
I consider this for approximately half a second. "Yours. Your shower has better water pressure for what I have planned."
His eyes darken further, and he reaches past me to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, our bodies brushing in a way that promises more to come. "Then what are we waiting for?"
And as he takes my hand and leads me toward the door, I know that whatever challenges await us, we'll face them together. Because that's what we do now. That's who we are.
Together.
Epilogue
Sebastian
Montana looks different when you're coming home rather than running away. The vast sky stretches above us like a promise as I navigate the familiar dirt road leading to Walker Ranch. Beside me, Mia hums along to some pop song on the radio, her fingers tapping out the rhythm on her thigh. Six months since the first time I brought here broken and grieving, and now she's returning whole, and mine. The thought still hits me like a physical force sometimes, that this brilliant, fierce woman chose me, is building a life with me.
"You're thinking too loud again," she says, turning the music down a notch. Her wild curls are partially contained in a messy bun, but rebellious strands frame her face.
"Just appreciating the view," I tell her, reaching across the console to take her hand.
"The mountains or me?" She grins, that full-wattage smile that still makes my chest tighten.
"Both," I admit. "But mostly you."
Her cheeks flush at delicate pink I can never get enough of. Six months together, and I can still make her blush. It's a power I wield carefully, treasuring each time her skin colors under my gaze or words.
