Page 99 of His to Protect
“Anyway, I still miss surgery.”
“You literally scrubbed in last week, Riven.”
“That was just for one case. And Cassian spent the whole time joking that I’d gone soft.”
“Well, you have gone soft.” She poked me in the stomach playfully. “Look at you. You’re drinking coffee at eight in the morning instead of being elbow-deep in someone’s chest.”
“I'm still adjusting to this new role.”
"You're doing great." She said it like the most obvious thing in the world. "You've restructured three departments, secured funding for new equipment. The nurses say morale is significantly better since you took over."
“Have you been gossiping about me?”
“I talk to everyone about you. It’s my favorite thing to do.”
“What exactly do you tell them?”
"That you're adequate."
I pulled her close and kissed her for real this time. She laughed against my lips. “Okay, fine. You’re much better than adequate.”
“Just better?”
“Significantly better. You’re actually exceptional.”
“Now who’s the one inflating egos?”
“Still you. I’m just being honest.”
We stood there in our kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms. I thought about how impossible this would have seemed a year ago. Having Mireya in my space and my life felt so natural that I couldn't remember what my mornings were like before she was here.
“Are you happy?” she asked quietly.
The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Is this the life you really want?”
I pulled back to look at her. Something flickered in her brown eyes—a softness undercut by the faint tension at the corners. She was still learning to trust that this was all real. I could see it in the way she braced for my answer, as though I might wake up one day and regret choosing her over the cold, controlled life I had lived for three years.
“I amsohappy,” I said firmly. "This is exactly what I want."
She kissed me again, and we stayed like that until our phones buzzed at the same time. She had a reminder for her surgery, and Cassian was asking me where the budget reports were.
“Duty calls,” Mireya said, pulling away reluctantly.
“Unfortunately.”
We moved through the apartment in a bit of synchronized chaos. Mireya gathered her gear while I looked for the tie I had misplaced. We navigated around each other easily, like two people who knew each other's patterns perfectly.
At the door, she paused. "Dinner tonight?"
"I'll cook."
"That sounds dangerous."
"I'm better than Emma."
“That’s a very low bar to clear.”
