by Elena Aitken
She wanted that reason. Had driven herself crazy the last couple of days trying to imagine what it might be so that his behavior made some kind of sense. But she didn’t need it right this second. “It can wait until we get through all this. You’ll have paperwork and whatever else. And people to call about Percy’s status, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Under the circumstances, I don’t have any right to ask you this but…”
Calling herself ten kinds of fool, she stepped into him. “Of course, I’ll stay.”
Some of the tension seemed to leech out of his frame and he dropped his brow to hers. “Thank you.”
“Mr. Malone?”
Hannah recognized the brunette nurse as Corinne McGee, one of the diner’s former waitresses. She had a clipboard in her hand.
“We’ve got Mr. Gannaway on fluids and are monitoring his condition closely. He’s not out of the woods yet, but you were spot-on in your diagnosis.”
Ryan’s expression shifted back into professional mode, but his fingers tightened around hers. “Is there a prognosis yet?”
“The doctor will be out to talk with you as soon as she can.”
He simply nodded. To anyone who didn’t know him, he’d appear calm and collected, totally in control. But his brittle edges stood out to her like flares. If anything happened to Percy…
No. Nothing was going to happen to Percy. He was going to be fine. They’d gotten him here in time, and she refused to acknowledge any other outcome. One of them had to maintain some optimism. Ryan was far too close to breaking.
Corinne held out the clipboard. “I understand you aren’t exactly family, but as you were the one who brought him in, can you fill out as much of this paperwork as you can?”
“Of course.”
As soon as they sat down, he stared at the forms as if they were in a whole other language. Hannah’s heart pinched at seeing him anything other than a hundred percent capable. He was so used to taking care of everybody else, she didn’t think he ever acknowledged he needed someone to take care of him. She wanted to do that for him, wanted to ease this burden.
She squeezed his arm. “Maybe I should get us some coffee.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She rose just as the exterior doors slid open again and someone walked in with a service dog. The sight of it snapped her brain into gear again. “Oh my God, Duke!”
“What?”
“He’s probably going nuts in the house. We just left him.” Was this what had happened with his previous owner?
“I didn’t even think about him.” Ryan rubbed at his temple, as if this was one more thing he wasn’t sure he could handle.
This, at least, she could fix. “It’ll be fine. I’ll get him taken care of.”
He shot her a look of gratitude as she pulled out her phone and dialed. “Brooke. It’s Hannah. I need a favor.”
Over the long hours, the ER waiting room had mostly emptied out. Ryan had done his duty, calling all the family who was still waiting for word. His mom had been ready to drive down on the spot, but he’d urged her to wait until there was more definitive news on Percy’s condition. Hannah had made arrangements for Brooke to keep Duke until they were free to come get him, so that was one less detail to worry about. She’d also called Betty and the rest of the Casserole Patrol, who’d set up a vigil for several hours in one corner of the waiting room. He’d finally convinced them to go home around midnight, with promises he’d send word if anything changed before morning.
Hannah yawned, her head dropping to his shoulder. For a long moment, he enjoyed the comfort of the weight of her against him. A solid, steady presence. He couldn’t have gotten through this without her. Not in his current mental state over things with his team, with Robbie. But it wasn’t fair to take advantage of her and expect her to stick it out the rest of the night.
“You don’t have to stay.”
She didn’t even lift her head. “Yes I do. I’ve already taken off tomorrow. I’m not leaving you here alone.”
He didn’t deserve her kindness.
“Everyone deserves kindness,” she murmured.
Apparently, he’d spoken aloud. “I didn’t treat you with kindness.” It was the truth and it was out there. He might as well make his apologies and address it, even if it pushed her away. “I’m sorry I behaved like a jackass.”
She straightened. “You said you had a reason.”
That reason detonated in his head, his heart, as his brain conjured images of his friend. Of the smile and the terrible jokes he’d never hear again.
Ryan took a slow breath. “This is the longest stretch I’ve been off in about four years. I’ve been on deployment, going from mission to mission with my team. When you’re out there, in the middle of all the violence, it gets where that’s the only thing you can see. It’s the only thing you know. I didn’t think too much about it. Part of our training involves compartmentalization. We deal with what’s in front of us. Nothing more, nothing less. And we don’t get attached to much outside the team. It’s normal. Our normal, anyway. I don’t know when I stopped expecting more, stopped seeing anything else.”
His thumb stroked along the back of her hand, taking comfort, even now. Her face held no judgment, just patience and curiosity.
“But you made me think about it. You made me want something else. Sometime while I’ve been here, you blew that objectivity and compartmentalization all to hell. I stayed longer than I intended, partly because of Percy’s lack of cooperation, but partly because I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to walk away from you. I started thinking about all those what ifs I don’t allow myself in the field. About what it would be like to not be dealing with battle trauma and death. To get out, go to med school, and specialize in something where seeing my patients doesn’t remind me of my failures. Where nobody’s permanently maimed or dying. And I want that so fucking bad, I can taste it.”
The hand he held tightened around his fingers. “There’s no shame in that.”
He dropped his head. She had no idea how much shame there was in that for him. “Right after I left you the other night, I got a call from a friend. One of our team was injured on an op. There was a fucking trip wire and a homemade bomb. Robbie didn’t survive long enough to make it on the helo for extraction and treatment.”
“Jesus. I’m so sorry.” She pressed a cheek against his shoulder, just holding on, and he welcomed it even as he cursed himself for the weakness of needing it. Needing her.
“I should’ve been there. If I’d been there, I could’ve done something. And instead I was here, with you, pretending I could have another life.”
For a long moment, she stayed silent. “Am I correct in assuming that they wouldn’t have run the mission without another medic as part of the team?”
“Yeah.”
“Another medic with the same training as you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No, no buts. You cannot blame yourself for this, Ryan. The only one at fault here is whoever set up that tripwire. Not you, not whoever was standing in your stead, not anyone else on your team. Be angry. Grieve the loss. But don’t blame yourself.”
There were sense and logic to her words, and everything in him wanted to reject them. “Easier said than done.”
“If you’d pulled away from me sooner, if you’d been there for Robbie, you wouldn’t have been here today for Percy. Even if I’d managed to get in the door, I wouldn’t have known what was wrong or what to do. I’d have waited for the fire department, if for no other reason than I wouldn’t have been physically able to get Percy off the floor. I wouldn’t have had the training to know he needed water or that he needed to stay awake.”
It was easy, far too easy, to see the picture she painted. To see the probable outcome. He wanted to block it out, deny the possibility, but she was still talking.
“There was a medic on the team, and Robbie didn’t make it. Maybe if you’d been
the medic, Robbie still wouldn’t have made it, and that’s horrible and tragic. But then Percy might be gone, too. And that wouldn’t have been your fault either, because even here, outside a warzone, tragedies just happen. There’s only one of you, and you can’t carry everyone on your shoulders, no matter how impressive they are. No matter how much you believe you can control everything, you can’t. And I think, somewhere deep down, you know that.”
Knowing and accepting were two very different things.
“The other day, you accused me of hiding out from my life, of making do with what I have here instead of doing whatever was necessary to get back to my real life.”
Hearing his words, Ryan winced. “I can’t believe I said that to you. I was wrong. Dead wrong.”
“I accept your apology. But you weren’t speaking to me, were you? Not really. You were angry with yourself because you don’t want to go back.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t.”
He whipped his head toward her. “What?”
“If you’ve reached a point where you’re that reluctant and conflicted about going back after a few weeks off, if you’re questioning your ability to compartmentalize yourself in order to do the job, then maybe you’re getting to the point where you shouldn’t be doing the job.”
That there was more than a kernel of truth to what she said scared him down to the marrow. He wanted the choice. All those down-the-road plans were for when he was ready to walk away. He didn’t want to be forced into the decision because he wasn’t capable anymore. He wanted to leave on a high note. On his own terms. Not as a failure. “It’s not that easy. I have obligations to my team, a contract. I—”
She held up a hand. “I’m not saying walk away today. But give yourself permission to think about it. Seriously consider it. You chose an incredibly difficult profession. I can’t even fathom how hard you worked to get where you are. One of the elite. But you can only do that effectively if you can maintain your edge. Psychologically, that’s got to wear on a person. That doesn’t make you weak or a failure. It makes you human.”
Somehow, staring into her big, blue eyes, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. How was it that this woman understood him so well after so little time? How had he come to crave that so much, so fast?
“Mr. Malone?”
He jolted at the voice, rising to his feet as the doctor approached him. A white lab coat flapped around her legs.
“I’m Dr. Campbell. I wanted to let you know that Mr. Gannaway is going to be okay. We’ve stabilized him, and expect him to make a full recovery, though we’d like to keep him for a full forty-eight hours to make sure we get his levels worked out. Provided everything goes as expected, he can go home Christmas Day.”
“That’s fantastic news. Thank you.”
“However—”
Of course there was a “but” to this scenario.
“He’s got to start taking care of himself. I’ll be making recommendations for follow-up care so he can learn how to manage his diabetes,” she said.
Thinking of the mission that brought him to Wishful, he scooped a hand through his hair. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, Doc. Does he need assisted living?”
“That depends on how well Percy will take care of himself.”
Hannah spoke up. “If Percy gets the proper nutrition and exercise, is there any reason he shouldn't be able to stay in his own home?”
“I don’t see why not. His mind is just fine.”
Ryan exhaled. That wouldn’t stop his mom from worrying, but it would certainly go a long way toward making Percy happy.
“You two should go get some rest. He’s sleeping comfortably now. Come on back by in the morning and you’ll be able to talk with him. He’ll be a lot more coherent then.”
He shook Dr. Campbell’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. Your diagnosis and quick thinking saved his life.”
The knots he’d been carrying around for hours finally eased the rest of the way.
“I understand you’re an Army medic? Special forces?” she said.
He frowned. “How did you—”
Dr. Campbell smiled. “Percy’s quite the talker. Anyway, if you ever decide to hit up med school when you get out, you’ve got the makings of a solid physician.”
“Thanks.”
As the doctor headed back through the double doors, he stretched his aching back. “I’ll take you home.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t want to get home this late. My sister will be waking up in a couple of hours for the bakery, and I don’t want to inadvertently wake her up early.” She slipped her hand into his and tipped those baby blues up to his. “I’d rather stay with you.”
A curious mix of gratitude and awareness slid through him. This woman would never cease to surprise him. Tightening his hand around hers, he tugged her toward the door. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 12
“I can’t believe scratching the front door was the only damage Duke did.” Hannah ran her fingers over the gouges from the dog’s claws. “Poor baby must’ve thought he was being abandoned again.”
“Can’t blame him for that. I can fix it. But it can wait until tomorrow.” Ryan jerked his head toward the stairs. “C’mon. I’ll get you something to sleep in.”
Exhaustion from the long day weighed her steps as she followed him. But along with the bone-deep tired, her heart was lighter for having cleared the air between them. She hadn’t been wrong about him. Hadn’t been wrong about the kind of man he was. Though, after tonight, she wondered if maybe he was wrong about himself. But those were thoughts that required more brainpower than she currently possessed.
The guest room he occupied was neat as a pin, hardly showing evidence he’d been living there. That was no surprise. She remembered how little he’d come with. The bag he’d carried that first day was tucked neatly into a corner, and she spied a neat line of toiletries arranged on the bathroom counter. Was he naturally this neat, or was that his military training?
Ryan opened a drawer and pulled out a t-shirt. “Is this okay? I don’t have much here.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
He didn’t let go as she accepted the shirt. “Thank you for taking care of me today.”
Her lips curved a little. “It’s the people who take care of everybody else who sometimes need caretaking the most.”
He was suddenly far too serious. “I didn’t know I did.”
Her heart pinched at the rare show of vulnerability. She kept her voice soft. “And now that you know?”
“I don’t know.” The admission was grudging, and she knew how much he had to hate the reality of it.
“Nothing wrong with that. Nobody said you have to have all the answers right now.”
“Good thing. I feel like I don’t have any of the answers. You’ve just made me ask a whole lot more questions.”
“I consider that a success. I wanted to change your view of things. Though, I confess, that wasn’t exactly the kind of rocking your world I intended.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, barely trapping the giggle that wanted to spill out. “Sorry. I have no filter when it’s late.”
His eyes went dark, and his faint smile was sharp as a blade. “I definitely feel like I missed out on that particular variety.”
She swallowed, a frisson of awareness racing down her spine, along her skin. The hunger in his gaze banished her exhaustion, banished any lingering doubts. Tossing the shirt aside, she stepped into him. “No reason to miss out. You’re still here.”
“For now.”
“We only have the now.” As a reminder to them both, she kissed him.
His hands dove into her hair, as he angled his mouth more firmly against hers, and she wrapped around him. His growing erection pressed against her belly. Opening to him, she gloried in the sweep of his tongue against hers. His fingers combed through her hair, stroking down her spine and over her ass, drawing he
r hips against his. She rose to her toes in an attempt to better line them up. Hooking his hands behind her thighs, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, settling her exactly where she wanted to be. Tightening her legs around his hips, she pulled his hardness closer to her core.
He growled, turning them toward the bed, lowering her to the mattress. It sank beneath their combined weight, squeaking faintly as they dove at each other, their hands busy tugging, touching, taking, stripping each other down between frenzied, frantic kisses. When his mouth closed over her breast, she cried out, arching up and digging her fingers into the muscles of his magnificent shoulders. Her hands fumbled with his belt as he continued to kiss and suckle. At last, she managed to defeat the button and zipper of his jeans, making enough space to slide her hand inside and wrap her fingers around him.
He cursed, his own fingers swift and efficient as he stripped her the rest of the way, leaving her bare. His gaze raked over her in frank appreciation.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
The bedside lamp painted the muscles of his arms and chest in shadow as he bent again to kiss and touch and stroke. His hand covered her sex, firm and possessive, and she arched up, needing more. More pressure, more friction. Just more.
“Ryan, please.”
Parting her folds, he stroked a lazy finger around her clit and through the wet heat between her thighs before sliding one finger inside her. She cried out, bucking her hips as he continued to rub.
“More.”
He slid in another finger, adding a twist of his wrist that had her flying apart in seconds. He wrung out every atom of pleasure, until she lay boneless and gasping. By the time she came fully back to herself, he wore a smirk of male satisfaction.
She found it hard to mind. “I’d forgotten what it was like to have a non-battery-assisted orgasm.” She clapped her hands over her mouth again, cursing her lack of filter.
The smirk turned into a full on grin. “Better than you remembered?”