Epilogue
Holden
One year later.
I snuck into the clinic with lunch in hand, the familiar bell ringing above my head as I stepped into the cool air of the waiting room.
This time I wasn’t here because of my hand. I was just here to see my wife.
The doctor’s office was closed for lunch, and Olive was typing something at the receptionist desk, her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun.
“Excuse me, Nurse Olive,” I rumbled, leaning against the reception counter. “I think I need medical attention.”
She didn’t even look up from her screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard. “Is that right, Holden? What did you do this time?”
“Got a tiny scratch on my thumb,” I deadpanned, holding up my left hand. “Might need a week off work. Maybe even some of that expensive skin glue you keep around here.”
Olive finally looked up, her dark eyes flashing with amusement. She raised a delicate eyebrow at me. “Are you in here trying to abuse clinic resources again?”
“No, ma’am,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. I lifted the brown paper bag and set it on the counter between us. “I came to bring my beautiful wife some lunch. Because I know for a fact that on busy days, you completely forget to feed yourself.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, the sound settling warmly in my chest. “You brought me a sandwich?”
“Turkey and Swiss. Your favorite,” I confirmed.
The door to the back office opened, and Doc Hansen strolled out, a chart tucked under his arm. He took one look at me leaning over the counter and let out a dry, rattling sigh.
“Well,” the Doc said mildly, “it’s a medical miracle. Your thumb looks fine to me, Holden.”
Olive hid her smile. “Were you listening in on us, Doc?”
“No. Just pointing out that he’s providing a poor excuse to loiter in my lobby.” He turned to me. “Good thing you married Olive, or I’d call Mason and accuse you of stalking the poor woman.”
“I’m a quick learner, Doc,” I shot back smoothly.
“So it seems,” Doc said, a fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
The second Olive had uttered the first words of a ‘marriage conversation’, I’d dropped down to one knee, then carried her off to the county courthouse.
I smiled to myself, remembering exactly how she’d looked standing in front of the county judge. She had been wearing a simple white sundress, her eyes shining with unshed tears. And she’d been the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
But in the present moment, I was hungry. My stomach was a bottomless well, waiting for anything to drop into it.
“You ready, hon?”
She beamed up at me. “Yeah.”
Before Olive and I could grab our sandwiches and head out to the shaded bench out back, the front door jingled again.
Colt, one of the firefighters in town, walked in, holding his elbow with a grimace. Olive instantly shifted into work mode, her posture straightening as she guided him back toward an exam room. The doctor followed, both of them focused on their patient.
“I’ll be right out, Holden,” she promised over her shoulder.
“Take your time.”
It looked like lunch would be delayed. That was a pretty common occurrence for us, especially since I brought her lunch five days a week.
I took a seat in one of the waiting room chairs, stretching my legs out in a patch of bright midday sunlight.
A year ago, I’d walked into this clinic bleeding on Olive’s clean floor, convinced that I’d be stuck moving from job to job my whole life, just like my old man.
Now I belonged here. Dylan trusted me. The crew gave me grief like family.
Brent actually was family now, even if we felt more like brothers than brothers-in-law.
And Olive?
She was my whole damn world.
I brushed my thumb over the raised scar on my palm, smiling to myself. The worst mistake I’d ever made on the job had led me straight to the woman I’d married. I’d moved into her old Craftsman house a month after our first date, and never looked back.
Then, a few weeks ago, our whole world had changed again when a little plastic stick had shown two lines.
My wife was carrying my baby.
Soon we’d be three. And once this little one arrived, we already knew we wanted more. We wanted a whole brood to fill up the house.
But I was getting lost in my thoughts. Where was she? Hopefully, Colt was okay, and it was nothing serious.
A few minutes later, the exam room door finally opened, and Colt walked out, his elbow wrapped in an ace bandage. The doctor followed close behind him, pulling his white coat off and tossing it over the reception chair.
“All right, I’m heading over to the diner for the meatloaf special,” Doc Hansen announced, grabbing his car keys. “Hold the fort, Olive. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Have a good lunch, Doc,” Olive called out.
The glass door clicked shut behind them, leaving the clinic entirely quiet.
Alone at last.
Olive looked at the brown paper bag on the counter.
Then she looked at me.
One delicate eyebrow lifted.
After a year of marriage, I knew that look. It was the same look she gave me when I forgot to take off my boots and tracked mud across her clean kitchen floor, or walked into her clinic pretending I needed medical attention just because I wanted to see my wife.
Bossy. Amused. Wicked as sin.
That was my gal in a nutshell.
“You know,” she said, reaching for my scarred hand, “lunch is important.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But a proper checkup is important, too.”
My pulse kicked hard.
I let her pull me out of the chair because I was a smart man now. A husband learned when to argue and when to follow his wife down the hall.
“Come on, dirty lumberjack,” she murmured, that familiar spark lighting up her eyes. “It’s time for me to give you a thorough examination.”
My dick hardened instantly, straining against the zipper of my jeans.
“Is that right?” I rasped.
She pulled me down the hallway and pushed me backward into the private patient room, shutting the door behind us with a solid click.
Then I fell into our familiar roleplay. One that never lasted long.
“Nurse Olive, I think my cock might be broken. Can you check it out for me?”
Olive backed me up against the edge of the padded exam table. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her stethoscope, and pressed the cold metal disc directly against the denim bulging over my zipper.
“Hmm,” she murmured, her face a mask of faux concentration. “Let’s see if we can find any signs of life down there.”
I let out a low, rough groan. I didn’t have the patience for the slow game today. I dropped my hands to my belt, flicked the metal buckle open, and yanked the zipper of my jeans down.
“Look, I think it’s alive again. Let’s see if it works right.”
Olive laughed at the sight of me already revved and ready for her.
I grabbed her by the waist and set her down on the paper covering the exam table. Then I tugged her scrubs down.
But before I went further, I paused, my hand settling low on her belly for half a second.
“You sure?” I asked. I was still getting used to pregnancy sex. I didn’t want to hurt her or the baby.
Olive wrapped her legs around my waist and gave me the bossiest smile I’d ever seen.
“Holden, if you make your pregnant wife beg during lunch, I’m writing you up.”
A laugh broke out of me, low and helpless.
God, I loved this woman.
“Oh, I missed you, Olive,” I groaned as I stepped close and pushed inside her.
There was no time for any delicate foreplay. Our little lunch sessions had to be fast. But they were somehow still sweet enough to knock the breath out of me.
Olive gasped as I filled her up, her nails digging into my shoulders.
Then I drove into her over and over, the loud, rhythmic squeak of the exam table echoing off the sterile walls of the exam room.
Even after a year, every time felt like the first time. I still couldn’t believe she was mine to love, mine to touch, mine to come home to.
I buried my face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin as she arched against me, taking every inch I had to give.
She hit her peak quickly, crying out my name quietly as her pussy clamped down hard around me.
And as always, that was all it took. I groaned her name, driving deep into her one last time as my own release ripped through me, hot and heavy.
I stayed buried inside her for a long minute, my chest heaving against hers as we both struggled to catch our breath.
Eventually, I pulled back, smoothing her dark, messy hair away from her sweaty forehead. “I love you, Olive.”
Olive let out a breathless laugh, her eyes shining as she looked up at me. “I love you, too, Holden,” she whispered, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Now help me clean the room. I’m getting hungry for lunch.”
I chuckled as I grabbed the sanitizing spray. She’d had a serious appetite ever since she’d gotten pregnant. Little did she know, I’d packed her two sandwiches today. She was going to be so happy when she found out.
Olive hopped down from the exam table, pulling her scrubs back up and adjusting her top. Then she pulled the crumpled paper off it and tossed it in the trash.
I’d come to Red Oak Mountain looking for steady work and a place to set down roots.
And now my roots were deep.
Nothing could tear me away from this place… or from my woman.
Thanks for reading! A quick rating or review would mean the world to me.