Page 27 of Saved By the Surly Medic

My pussy clenches hard around his shaft, squeezing him, milking him, as I feel his hot come shoot inside me. The climax tumbles over me like an ocean wave, leaving me almost dizzy as I sprawl under him.

Jonah rolls carefully to the side, as I snuggle against him. "That…" He shakes his head. "I mean, damn, girl."

"So eloquent. I was thinking the same thing."

My hand drifts down his chest to trace along his glistening abs. "After a workout like that, it's a shame we can't order more pizza for delivery."

"We just had?—"

My finger drops to his lips. "Didn't you say that the calcium in cheese was excellent for healing hairline fractures?"

His voice is muffled as he mutters, "I said nothing of the sort."

"So weird. Because that's what I heard."

His teeth nip at my finger, then he pulls me closer, stroking my hair. "If it will make my sweet girl happy, I'll put in a pizza oven."

"Really?"

"Yes, as long as I can get you a pizza paddle with an extremely long handle, and you promise not to burn yourself."

"I'm not that accident prone, you know."

He grins. "Could have fooled me. And you fell for me. There's clearly something wrong with you."

"It's all the river's fault for making me fall in the first place."

Jonah stares up at the ceiling. "And now I have to go thank the river. What a world."

"Yes, but it's our world," I laugh.

"Damn straight, baby. Ours. Forever."

EPILOGUE

JONAH

* Two Years Later *

Staring at my lovely wife through the large library window, I think I could watch her sketch all day.

Brooke has always been the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen. It's like there's a light that surrounds her. As if all the love and sweetness in her heart radiates outward.

But now, after living with me for two years up on the mountain, she glows even more. It's not just all the fresh air and sunshine, or the faint tan that brought out a few more charming freckles. She's truly blossomed.

About a month after she settled into my – sorry – our house, she began working like crazy. When I gently suggested she scale back so that she didn't burn herself out, she simply raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Then Brooke spoke with Mrs. Honeywell at the library and started a drawing group in the large conference room every Tuesday afternoon while I'm busy at the clinic. She even called it "Drawing and Doodling for People Who Aren't Very Good at It" to ensure that everyone knew it was purely for fun and no pressure.

Now she has just as many friends around here as I do and keeps track of our social calendar. Apparently married couples are supposed to go out at least once a week until they have kids. I told her she must have snuck this into the fine print of our marriage license, but she wouldn't relent. She just made that little adorable grr sound that turns me on so much.

I watch in admiration as her quick hands move across the easel, her engagement and wedding rings sparkling in the sunlight. My thrifty girl designed our wedding invitations herself, using pressed flowers from the forest and her own sketches. We only invited a dozen people, but since it took place at City Hall, half the town showed up anyway.

She was just as beautiful in her simple white dress as she is now in a slouchy green sweater and yoga pants, leaning forward to point to something on another artist's drawing. Everyone in town tells me how kind Brooke is. And apparently, behind my back, they mention how much she's mellowed me out.

Tearing my gaze away from the window, I lean on my truck and idly check my email for ten minutes until Brooke comes out waving goodbye to people. I take her bag, then begin to help her into the truck, but stop.

Caging her against the seat with my arms, I lean down to nuzzle her throat. "You're very sexy when you're sketching. Did you know that?"

---