“Probably not,” I agree, continuing to toy with her ring. “But you know, if you ever wanted the traditional wedding—whitedress, flowers, the whole production—we’d be more than happy to do it.”
Holly’s expression softens. “Maybe someday. But I think I need to figure out more pertinent short-term goals first.”
“Such as?”
“Such as where I’m going to live and work,” she says, a hint of anxiety creeping into her scent. “I haven’t exactly been proactive about job hunting now that my fellowship is over.”
The flight attendant returns with two plastic flutes of champagne, setting them on our tray tables with a flourish. “Here you go, lovebirds. We’ll be starting our descent soon, so enjoy these quickly.”
“Thank you,” Holly says with a polite smile, waiting until the attendant moves on before continuing our conversation. “I’ve been looking at positions in Anchorage, but the commute would be brutal, especially in winter.”
I take a sip of my champagne, watching her over the rim of the glass. “Speaking of the future,” I say carefully, “I got some news while we were in Puerto Rico.”
Holly’s eyes widen. “And?”
“Mercer’s retiring. Officially,” I tell her, unable to keep a satisfied smile from spreading across my face. “They’ve offered me the job.”
“Retiring?” Holly repeats skeptically. “Was this a willing retirement?”
I shrug, though I know exactly how unwilling it was. “The board wasn’t happy about how the children’s cases were handled, but I have no idea about the specifics.”
This is technically true—I don’t know the specifics of the board meeting where they essentially forced Mercer out. I just know the result, which was all that mattered to me.
“The more important piece of information,” I continue, “is that the board voted to post a role for a pediatricemergency physician. Someone who could rotate through all the smaller clinics in the region and provide coverage for the wilderness medic service. They’ve realized that specialty care is needed, especially now that the town is growing in permanent population.”
Holly’s expression brightens. “That’s good. The children in town need to be prioritized.”
I roll my eyes, unable to help myself. “Obviously the job is yours if you want it.”
“IfI want it?” she repeats, blinking at me.
“Well, yes,” I say, suddenly uncertain. “But don’t make a decision right now. You have time to think about it.”
“Okay,” she says slowly, obviously lost in thought.
A sense of unease runs through me. I hope she doesn’t think I’m trying to control her, force her to mold her life just to suit my needs. “We’ll make it work no matter what you decide. I know your mother has been making noise about us moving to New York. You still have your apartment.”
Holly laughs, the sound bright against the dull hum of the airplane engines. “My mother has come around more than you think. Last week she actually asked when we were going to give her grandchildren.”
I nearly choke on my champagne. “She what?”
“Apparently she’s decided that if I’m going to be an omega, I might as well give her grandbabies to spoil,” Holly says with a shrug. “Her words, not mine.”
“And what did you tell her?” I ask carefully, setting my glass down.
Holly’s expression turns thoughtful. “That we hadn’t discussed it yet. That we’re still figuring out our lives together.” She pauses, studying my face. “Why? Is that something you want to discuss?”
The fasten seatbelt sign dings before I can answer, and the captain’s voice fills the cabin, announcing our imminent descent into Anchorage. Holly buckles her seatbelt, still watching me with those perceptive eyes of hers.
“We can talk about it later,” I say, reaching for her hand again. “With Kai and Grayson. It’s a pack decision.”
She nods, squeezing my fingers. “A pack decision,” she agrees.
As the plane begins its descent, I stare out the window at the approaching landscape—the jagged mountains, the sprawling forests, the glittering waters of a bright blue inlet. Somewhere beyond those mountains is Heat Mountain, our little town, our home.
I think about the job offer, about Holly staying for good, about the possibility of children someday. About the life we’re building together, the four of us, against all odds and expectations.
Three years ago, I was running from this place, from connections, from anything that might tie me down or make me vulnerable. Now I’m running toward it all, embracing the very things I once feared.
