Silly boy.
He peers down at me with a solemnness that takes my breath away. “My plan, really, is to love you. To be here every day. To learn what’s important to you and make that matter to me too.”
My lips quiver at his words. “Holden . . .”
“I want you to be proud of me,” he says, smoothing his hand over the top of my head. “To call me your husband and mean it. To hear that little thing in your voice that my grandma used to have when she was talking about my grandpa.”
I raise up just enough so he can see into my eyes. I want him to hear this even more than I wanted to hear his precious words.
“You are the smartest, sweetest, slightly annoying but sexiest man I know.”
He grins.
“And I respect you more than I’ve ever respected anyone,” I say.
His eyes cloud and he pulls me close to him. Over and over, he presses kisses just above my ear.
“I love you,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear.
I’m not sure if he was afraid I wouldn’t say it back or afraid it’s too soon.
But I don’t care.
I pull back, fighting him to get a bit of space between us, and look at him.
“I love you,” I say. “It’s why I let you go.”
“I know.” He brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Promise me you’ll never do that again.”
“Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“Oh, sugar. I’m not going anywhere.”
Time stands still as a slow smile creeps across his face. I grab his cheeks in my hands and lower his mouth to mine.
As soon as our lips touch, it’s game over.
Or maybe it’s just the start.
Who knows? All I know is that I’m here for it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
HOLDEN
You’re late.” Dottie sets the pen in her hand down and smiles. “Very, very late.”
“Am I? Because I didn’t think you were expecting me today.”
She takes in my fingers that are interlocked with Sophie’s. “Yeah, well, you might have gotten me there. But I can’t say this doesn’t make me happier than apple pie.”
Sophie laughs. “Good morning, Dottie.”
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“Dottie, have you seen my . . .” Pap comes around the corner and stops in his tracks. His forehead wrinkles as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He takes his time assessing the situation before him—Sophie and me standing hand in hand in the middle of his clinic.
Maybe I should’ve called yesterday. But that would have required paying attention to anything other than my wife. And as much as I love my grandpa, I love Sophie more.
I look at her over my shoulder. Sophie grins like a loon at Pap. My heart swells every time I see her and the happiness on her face.
How on earth did a girl like her fall in love with a guy like me? I couldn’t sleep at all last night, worried that I’d wake up and something would’ve changed. That maybe she’d had enough time on her own to think about it again and her conclusion was different.
Not that me staying awake made a difference. But it sure didn’t hurt.
Besides, it let me revel in the life I’ve lucked into.
“Well, well, well,” Pap says, placing the folder in his hands on the counter. “Look what we have here. What’s this all about?”
“Turns out that your grandson is, indeed, a little slow to start. But I guess I’m pretty hard to live without.” She looks up at me and laughs. “That’s what you said, isn’t it?”
“Something like that.”
Dottie and Pap laugh. The sound fills the room.
This is what I never could’ve gotten in Florida. It’s the one element of life that’s hard to pinpoint, almost impossible to describe. It’s knowing inherently, on some cellular level, that you’re connected to people and a place—that your roots are somehow intertwined with theirs.
My roots are here, in Honey Creek. It’s where I matter. It’s where I can make a difference and not just as a vet, but as a human being.
It’s where I can dance with my wife under the string lights in my backyard because life isn’t stressful from morning until night. It’s where I want my kids to grow up and play with their cousins. I want to take them to the Lemon Aid and get milkshakes after school. I want to stretch a sheet in the backyard and project a movie like they used to do at the Honey Creek playground in the summertime.
I want to grow here too. Learn to be a better veterinarian, friend, husband, and man.
I called Montgomery this morning and told him I was truly honored by the faith he’d put in me. I also told him I wasn’t quite ready, or deserving, of the position and that he should choose someone else. He didn’t quite understand but told me I could always call him back. He’d be willing to reconsider me in the future.
Maybe I’ll do that.
And maybe I won’t.
I glance up at Pap. His chest is all puffed out as he nearly bursts with pride at seeing me in his lobby.
“So,” I say, feeling him out even though I know the answer. “You think you have a job opening around here?”
He grins. “I don’t know. What do you think, Dottie?”
Dottie pretends to consider my request. Her head cocks to the side as she wraps her hands around her coffee mug. “Maybe, but I have some parameters.”
“Shoot them my way,” I say.
She smiles. “You have to be on time. Every day. And I’m not calling you ‘handsome.’” She looks at my grandfather. “Did you know he wanted me to call him ‘handsome’ on his first day?”
“I did not,” I tell her. “You called me ‘handsome.’”
“Well, you are pretty handsome,” Sophie says, resting her head on my arm.
Pap shakes his head as he sets down a piece of paper. “Well, if there aren’t any objections from the boss, Dottie, then I guess you start Monday. Be here when Dottie tells you to. Leave when she tells you to. And don’t expect me in for two weeks.”
“Wait. What?” I ask, suddenly confused.
Pap just laughs. “Hell, if you’re gonna be around, I’m heading back to Florida. The boat is fixed, and the captain assured me there will be beer on board. There are fish out there calling my name.”
We laugh, our conversation changing to Grady’s dog and pies. And it hits me how strange this all seemed not that long ago, but how it now feels like it’s just the way it should be.
I squeeze Sophie’s hand again. She has to wonder why I keep doing it, but I like the confirmation that she’s there.
I grab a seat on one of the chairs in the lobby and pull my wife onto my lap. We listen to Pap and Dottie tell us a story about a man who brought in a pregnant goat yesterday. Apparently, it had a thing for crayons.
Sophie leans back and rests her head on my shoulder. I keep her as close to me as I can.
We sway back and forth as we listen to my grandfather. My mind ventures off into a time and place that feels like forever ago—the night I told her she’d have to act like she loves me.
Little did I know that would start a fire that neither of us would be able to stop. That it would spark a love story that we’ll pass down to our children and grandchildren.