I would make her happy even if it fucking killed me. And if that were the case, then I’d move into the afterlife without complaint, knowing I touched Heaven while on earth, and I would wait for her to join me again when she was done.
I found my slice of Heaven. My perfection. My purpose.
And now that we’ve traipsed gleefully across the three-month deadline we set for ourselves, I consider what comes next.
A ring, perhaps. A vow of forever. A discussion that may include dragging her clothes out of the spare room closet and hanging them in mine, and a promise that, on my very next weekend off, I’ll start rebuilding the greenhouse she sits on the porch at least once a day and stares at.
Does she even realize she does it?
When the time is right and the authorities have done their jobs, when she’s ready to talk to a judge and get her new name stamped into existence, maybe she’ll choose Darling for a last name. Save herself the trouble of making something else up.
I’m ready to share.
I don’t move. I don’t even twitch. I merely stand with my back against the wall, my feet crossed at the ankles, while I get my daily dose of Rose. But she looks up anyway. Not searching. Not uncertain. Her stunning brown kaleidoscope eyes lock on to mine, and after a slow beat of my heart, her lips curl into the most beautiful fucking smile anyone on this planet has ever known.
How did I exist before I knew her? How did I breathe?
Straightening her legs and leaving Poopy McStinkypants with my patient, she wanders my way. Seductive, swaying hips swing with every step. Long, dark hair bouncing with every shift of her head.
Three months ago, she was a patient. A scared, sad, broken shell of a woman.
Now, she’s a goddess, striding along the halls of my home away from home, and instead of focusing on her insecurities andoh no, what if Ollie doesn’t like me today? she walks straight into my arms, wrapping herself around my torso, and lays her cheek on my chest.
Finally, she releases a long, noisy breath. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I crush her close enough that I feel the throb of her heart against mine. “Good day at work?”
“Mmhmm.” She slides her palm under my shirt, stroking my spine with her fingertips like she knows how easily the action slays me. “Poppy slept on Cliff’s lap most of the day, because he’s in between jobs and would rather scroll socials than start a new project at the end of a work week. He’s finicky like that.”
“Makes sense to me.” I cup her face and tilt her back, purely so I can look down into her eyes. “You’re so pretty.”
Her cheeks flame red, just like I knew they would, because if this were a cartoon, she would be Snow White, with her silky black hair and perfect porcelain skin. And if I had to, I’d play all seven of her housemates if that’s what she needed to feel whole.
Grumpy. Bashful. Happy. Doc.
I wouldn’t even take offense to being Dopey if that’s what she wants from me.
Framing her face with my hands, I draw her to the tips of her toes and press a lingering, entirely-decent-for-public kiss square on the center of her lips. Then I press another to her nose. “I was sad, thinking I’d have to wait till I got home to see you. This iswaybetter.”
“Mmm. I agree.” She kisses my jaw. My chin. And lowering back to flat feet, she lays her hands on my hips and purrs under my massaging fingertips. “Busy day?”
“Eh. Typical day. What did you have for lunch?”
“Tacos. Like I said,” she snickers. “Cliff was bored today, so he swung by the bakery around ten and bought pastries. Then he went out for tacos and brought them back around one. Had a slice of chocolate mud cake at four.” Her brows furrow and pinch. “I’m pretty sure I’ve gained five pounds since I started working for him.”
I lean to the side and peek down at her ass, filling her jeans exactly how it should. “Doing the lord’s work and thickening you in all the right places.”
She slaps my arm, though it’s barely more than a tap. “Am I just an object for you to sexualize, Doctor Douchebag?”
“No.” I straighten out again and take her lips with mine. “You’re also funny. And smart. You havedid you knowsthat excite me every single day. And you’re good with a hammer.”
“Oh no! Uh oh!” The little boy fumbles the cat.Because she wants to run to her owner.“Help!”
Grinning, Rose turns and rescues them both, crouching and cuddling Poopy against her chest. And though I consider following her along the hall and begging Dawes to clock in early today, my phone chirps and draws my focus. I take it out of my pocket and spy Cliff’s name on the screen, so I answer and bring the device to my ear. “Hey. She’s with me.”
“Good.” The sound of a closing door ricochets from his side of the line, then the unmistakable clatter of blinds dropping into place. “Something weird just happened. I wanna run it by you.”
I settle back against the wall and enjoy the quiet of a small-town hospital. “What thing?”
