He sets his mug down and turns fully toward me, crowding me gently against the porch rail. “And my wife is the hottest thing, period.”
I wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me slow and deep.
When he pulls back, his breath brushes my lips. “You talking about distractions?”
I slide my hand down his chest to where his jeans are getting decidedlynot empty. “Maybe.”
He growls. Actually growls.
“You keep that up,” he warns, scooping me into his arms, “and we’re never getting this damn house built.”
I kiss his jaw. “We should build memories while we build the foundation.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” His voice drops to a sinful rumble. “You’re the only blueprint I’m following today.”
He carries me toward the bedroom—laughing when I tug his shirt, groaning when I kiss his neck—while outside, the wind whistles through the pines like it’s blessing the life we’ve chosen.
And as he lays me back on the bed and covers my body with his, I know one thing with absolute clarity:
I’m home.
Finally.
Completely.
Home.
Epilogue 2
Sadie
Two Years Later
The clinic smells like lavender disinfectant and fresh hay—my signature blend of“comfort first, medicine second.”Sunlight pours through the big windows we insisted on, turning the polished concrete floors gold. Fig, one of the barn cats, is curled up in a patch of sunshine in the corner.
I stand in the doorway of my consultation room, white coat on, stethoscope around my neck, and let myself take it in. The framed degree on the wall, my name printed in bold:Dr. Sadie Callahan.
Outside the window, I can see the Havenridge Vet Program barn, where a few of the veterans are working with the horses this morning. Two years ago, I could barely breathe without checking the shadows for monsters. Now, the world feels wider than the horizon that holds this ranch.
The door opens behind me, and even without turning, I feel him. Wyatt’s steady, grounding presence settles around me.
“You’re staring at the wall again,” he says, voice low and amused as he steps inside. “Should I be jealous, or…”
I laugh softly. “Just making sure it’s real.”
His arms slide around my waist from behind, his chin brushing my shoulder. “It’s real, Doc. You did this.”
I rest my hands on his forearms. “Wedid.”
He makes a sound—half hum, half contentment—that vibrates through me. “Maybe. But you’re the one who stayed long enough to build it.”
Stayed.That word used to terrify me.
Now, it feels like oxygen.
Wyatt turns me gently, and I melt into him without thought. He studies my face carefully, attentively, like he always does. As if he wants to memorize every emotion that flickers across my face.
“You ready for your first official patient as Dr. Callahan?” he asks, brushing a kiss against my temple. “He’s very demanding.”
