"We're really doing this?" she whispered.
His hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing away a tear she didn't know had fallen. "We're really doing this."
Doc appeared in the doorway, shattering the moment with perfect timing. "If you two are done with your romantic declarations, I have a car waiting. The Admiral wants to brief you both at my farm before he flies out. Something about Sarah needing to sign liability waivers."
"Liability waivers?" Sarah's voice climbed.
Griff grinned. "Standard Knight Tactical paperwork. Includes acts of God, acts of Axel, and bear spray incidents."
"They have a waiver for bear spray?"
"They do now," Doc said primly. "Legal was very thorough."
As they left the hospital together, it hit her. A feeling she hadn’t experienced since her parents were alive.
Home.
Not a place, but a team. A purpose. A man sent from Heaven to complete her.
Finally.
EPILOGUE
Six months later:Knight Tactical Headquarters
"Told you you’d cry," Admiral John Knight murmured to his wife, offering her his handkerchief.
Minerva dabbed at her eyes delicately, watching Axel and Olivia sway together in the center of the reception tent for their first dance as husband and wife. "After forty-seven years of marriage, John Knight, you should know better than to point that out. Your eyes are suspiciously shiny too, mister." She tucked the handkerchief in his breast pocket with a pat. "Watching Axel up there, finally whole, finally happy... it's beautiful."
John pulled her closer, closing his eyes hard. The kid who'd come back from Afghanistan with hands that shook and nights full of terrors was now holding his bride as if she were made of spun glass and starlight. Dr. Olivia Kane—no, Olivia Reinhardt now—had her head on his shoulder, her wedding dress catching the light from the strings of bulbs overhead.
One more of his team happy. Yet another of the Lord’s blessings.
"John. Two o’clock. Behind the cake table.” Minerva said suddenly, switching to her mission-voice. "Your boys are planning something."
Sure enough, he spotted Deke, Ronan, and Kenji huddled together, their heads bent in what they clearly thought was covert planning. He rolled his eyes. "I’m aware. Anniversary surprise for Christian and Whitney. They think they're being subtle."
His wife smiled. "They're about as subtle as Griff checking that ring box."
Eyes on the petite woman with the riot of curls now dancing with Izzy, Izzy’s seven-year-old, Chantal and a whole group of little girls, Griff touched his breast pocket. Again. "Twenty-six. Nope, make that twenty-seven. I’ll have to update Finn."
"Finn's counting too?"
"Everyone's counting, love."
John wrapped his arm around his wife's waist as they surveyed the reception from their strategic position at the edge of the tent. The mountains surrounding Hope Landing glowed amber in the setting sun, transforming Axel and Olivia's outdoor reception into something magical. After decades in the military, he'd learned to read a room in seconds—exits, threats, tactical advantages.
Tonight, all he saw was joy.
And chaos. Definitely chaos.
"THAT'S NOT PROPER PURSUIT PROTOCOL." Izzy's voice carried across the reception.
John bit back a laugh as the slight mechanic now stood toe-to-toe with Cory Fraser, Hope Landing's police chief, gesturing wildly as they attempted to slow dance.
"The PIT maneuver is a perfectly valid—" Cory protested.
"At those speeds? Are you trying to kill someone?"
