"Or at McChord." Paper lining on the gumey crackled as she shifted closer to loop an arm around his uninjured shoulder. "Or wherever you're stationed along the way. As long as we're together. Kirstie's ready for new places and new friends. Even if some of those places and people are familiar, we don't need to seek refuge away from memories anymore."
"What about your brother and the vet practice? What about your work?"
"I'll always be grateful for all Vic's done for me this past year." She smoothed a hand along the back of his neck. "But I'm not so sure having us here is helping him get over his own problems. He can always hire another vet tech, and I can go back to school in Charleston just as easily as here."
"You sound like you've done a lot of thinking while you waited with Kirstie."
"I did a lot of thinking in the airplane earlier. The rest that happened on the ground only made me realize what an idiot I'd been for not telling you right away. I love you, Bo, and I always will. Wherever you go, there's no shaking me."
"You're sure?" His chest went tight and his head swam with a kick of happiness better than any drug to be found around this joint. He didn't deserve her, but intended to work at it.
"Absolutely. I wouldn't change a thing about the incredible man you are." She paused, worrying that bottom lip of hers again before she continued. "Well, there is just one thing."
"And what would that be? I'll make it happen, come hell or high water." After he kissed her.
He slipped off her glasses and damn near fell into her eyes. Dodging his IV, she arched into his kiss, a kiss they'd both more than earned today. Her glasses thudded to the table as he flattened his hand to the small of her back. Her full br**sts melded against the wall of his chest, stirring more heat down south than should have been possible, given his recent blood loss. And along with all that heat, the sweet sweep of her tongue stirred a promise of forever.
"About that one thing I intend to change," she whispered against his mouth, lifting his left hand from her back, her thumb brushing over his ring finger. "I want to put a big gold band right here to let the entire female population know that Bo Rokowsky is officially taken."
EPILOGUE
Paige nudged her glasses straight on her nose again, righting her view of the landing cargo plane. Military fire trucks and security police shrieked onto the runway toward the hulking, gray cargo plane touching down, slowing, smoke puffing from the tires and screeching brakes.
All a part of the air-show dramatics at Charleston Air Force Base.
Her husband piloted today, having just flown an aerial demo, dropping a cargo pallet.
Now the base fire department was taking a turn strutting their stuff with full gear, despite the sultry heat. Bo had assured her beforehand that it was only an exercise so she wouldn't be stressed—given her delicate condition.
Tilting her face into a magnolia-scented breeze, Paige held firm to the sticky softness of her daughter's fingers, not so little now. All of eight years and nine months, Kirstie proclaimed often enough. Soon to be a big sister in five more months, which she was certain made her seem even older.
She and Kirstie had moved back to Charleston two years ago, planning to live in an apartment while Paige worked at a local vet clinic and started college classes. Three months later she and Bo had eloped. Why wait when they were both certain and everything else had settled out with her husband's mess?
The uprooted azalea bush had proven fruitful in a number of ways—complete with the account number to a bank in the Caymans. The government seized most of the money.
But what little remained of Kurt's assets, Paige and Bo had promptly donated to orphanages throughout the U.S. However, the lock-box included a final surprise—an antique ring for Kirstie, one that had belonged to Kurt's grandmother. It didn't hold any substantial financial worth, but sentiment carried a far higher value. Paige had tucked the ring away for her daughter to wear later.
Meanwhile, Bo was the father figure in Kirstie's life these days, a man of honesty, loyalty and, God bless him, frugality. After Kurt's dangerous lust for money, Paige treasured Bo's thriftiness almost as much as she treasured his abundant love and support.
Thanks in part to that encouragement, she now held a B.S. in biology, along with a nursing degree. She still hadn't decided about vet school, but took great satisfaction in having completed college as she'd dreamed of doing for so long.
Life was good and exciting. Paige squeezed Kirstie's hand and savored the happiness, the wonderful sense of normalcy she would never take for granted again.
Fire trucks circled the plane as crew members raced down the steps out of the craft. A final man filled the hatch. The flight-suit-clad aviator, younger than the others, thundered down the steps and made up the distance in seconds, overtaking, passing.
And so wonderfully familiar. Her gaze tracked her sprinting husband abandoning the scene with heart-pounding athleticism. Bo's coal-black hair reflected the sun rays, some of the beams lingering to catch along the hint of curl in his close-cropped cut. Wow, but he turned her on, a feeling she knew would last through their gray and wrinkled years when he would still have those killer blue eyes and that incredible smile with slightly crooked teeth.
Her husband chose that vulnerable moment to glance her way. Dry lightning crackled overhead, her skin prickling, fine hairs rising with an awareness that nature was about to unleash a storm of passion.
How much longer until bedtime?
And speaking of Bo...
He peeled away from his crew and jogged toward her on the tarmac. "Hey, there, gorgeous." He dropped a kiss on her lips along with a hello stroke over her tummy for the baby, then turned to tug Kirstie's ponytail. "Well, hello, Cupcake. Hope you waited for me so we can have one of those steaming turkey legs."
"And hot dogs." Her daughter smiled up, happy, hungry and healthy.
How ironic that with a nurse in the house now, Kirstie no longer suffered disease-of-the-week outbreaks. She'd even made it through a round of school vaccines with barely a wince over the word shots. She was joyful and secure these days.