Page 86 of The Inn Dilemma

“That’s what I’ve been told.” My voice is groggy.

“Take some sips of water,” she encourages, lifting the straw to my lips.

“Do you know what happened? No one will tell me.”

She glances to the other side of my bed, and I follow her line of sight. That’s when I notice the hulking man fast asleep in the uncomfortable recliner.

“Thanks to that man, you were able to get a transfusion when you started losing blood.”

My face pales at the realization. “Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

“My best guess is he didn’t want you to have another reason to call him a hero. That boy is too humble, if you ask me.”

I chuckle at that. “You’re telling me. The man saves dozens of orphans, his team, and the pet cat, but he refuses to admit the treasure he is.”

“That’s the perfect word for him. A treasure.”

I gently brush my hand up the arm he has draped next to me. He doesn’t rouse.

“Lucky for you, he has the same blood type as you.”

I turn my attention back to the nurse. “Luck had nothing to do with it. Like everything else in my life, God had all of this worked out before I even knew I was going through with it.”

She smiles so big her eyes shine. “That’s right, sugar. God is always working for us.” She lifts her right hand, and in a beautiful soprano, sings, “Praise Him!”

“Praise Him,” I repeat in my normal voice.

After checking my vitals, my fluids, and making sure I drink more water, Nurse Holly tells me everything looks good and exits the room.

I turn Holt’s hand so it’s palm up and brush my fingers over the SEAL trident tattooed on the inside of his forearm. Then I allow my hand to slide up to his inner bicep, where he has the word “brother” in the same place where my brother now has a matching tattoo in braille.

I had asked Chris about his newest tattoo while I waited for the anesthesiologist to come into my room. He told me he got the tattoo after he saw Holt for the first time after the explosion. They weren’t sure if Holt would be able to see again. The blast destroyed his left eye but left damage to the optical nerves of his right eye. Thanks to the surgeons and lots of community prayer, his vision was restored in the surviving eye. Chris went and got the tattoo so it would be ready before Holt got out of the hospital.Then Holt got his shortly after.

Even though the two men chose very different paths in life, they’ve stuck together like brothers from the first day they met.

A low humming sound comes from Holt, followed by the words, “I could get used to waking up next to you.” Without warning, he turns fully in his seat to gently grip my face and pull me into a heart-stopping kiss. My eyes flutter closed, and I get lost in the moment. Lost in Holt.

He pulls back, and I pout like I always do when he’s the one to break our kiss. Holt chuckles, low and deep. “Sorry, Priceless, but I want you to be out of here before doing what I really want to do.”

My face flames at his words. The brazenness I once felt with previous boyfriends is long gone, and eventhough those desires are stronger than ever with Holt, I know I need to keep them in check. So instead of focusing on my body’s reaction to this gorgeous man and his kissing expertise, I ask, “Priceless? Is that my new nickname?”

Holt’s lips quirk up to one side. “I think it has a nice ring to it.” Gently, he strokes down my cheek, tilting my chin up to search my face. “It’s twofold. One, you are my priceless treasure, and two”—his smirk grows wider, and I find myself leaning forward to kiss the scar on his quirked lip. Before I can do more, he pulls back and goes on as if nothing happened. “And two, pretty soon your last name is gonna change and you won’t be Price anymore, hence Price-less.”

My lips part, and I go breathless, unable to form a coherent response.

His voice drops a few octaves. “One day very soon I hope to make you Mrs. Graves.”

My pulse kicks up at that declaration, and I’m finally able to think straight. “Is that a proposal?”

“Oh no, baby. You’ll know when it’s a proper proposal. I wouldn’t dream of giving you anything less.”

Chapter Thirty

Holt, Next fall

I’ve never felt more proud of anything in all my life as I stare at the home I’ve been working on over the last few months. The once crumbling house that sat abandoned for years has been restored and is now the base of my newly-built log cabin. There was a bit of a hiccup at the end of construction, but I now realize the timing was perfect.

I couldn’t have done it without Aunt Birdie’s encouragement, Christian’s generous donations, and Nova’s natural eye for design. The rustic structure stands tall and proud, flanked by two massive ponderosa pines on either side. A covered wraparound porch holds several benches and rocking chairs where we can sit outside and sip sweet tea or coffee. There’s a section around back with an open roof where I have a firepit surrounded by benches that Axel helped me make.

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