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He tilted my chin up so I could see the changeable storm in his eyes. “I fucked up. I was trying to keep our professional relationship separate from our personal one, and?—”
“I know. I understand,” I assured him. Thatcher was an intensely private man. Naturally, he didn’t want to do anything that might invite speculation about just how close we might be. And I couldn’t say it didn’t hurt—it did—but if that was a boundary Thatcher felt he had to draw so that we could have a personal relationship… I would try to respect it. After all, there were a lot of compensations. “You flew to rescue me, Thatcher.” I shook my head, still not quite able to believe that he was here in front of me. “You’re forgiven.”
“I do fly sometimes, you know. When I have to. When it’s important.” He leaned closer—so close his lips nearly brushed mine. “Do you remember me telling you why I flew here?”
My breath caught, and I knew my eyes were huge because I was staring at him so hard I couldn’t make myself blink. “I… I think so?” My heart rate shot up so quickly that the monitors beeped a warning.
Thatcher grinned and moved back a couple of inches, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Because I love you.”
“Oh.” The flu must’ve stolen my dignity along with all my strength because I felt hot tears gather at the corner of my eyes before Thatcher reached out to thumb them away. “Well, that’s…” Another tear followed the first. Thatcher brushed it back to the edge of my hairline. “Are you sure?” I demanded. “Because I know you said it before, but if it was an adrenaline thing because you thought I was dying or whatever, I would understand.” That was a lie. Never in my life had I wanted to believe anything so badly.
“Positive. I love you, Reagan Wellbridge. You, with your silver tongue and your gorgeous eyes, with your crazy antics and your big heart, and that sexy tattoo that I’ve become really, shockingly possessive of.” He grinned. “Now, stop crying, love. We need all this liquid to stay inside. The doc said you’re dehydrated on top of the flu. You can’t afford tears right now.”
I snorted and started coughing again.
Thatcher helped me sit up so I could catch my breath and wrapped a supportive arm around my shoulders… but his proximity only made the beeping of the cardiac monitor speed up again. The machine made a shrill warning noise. From the way my heart was hammering in my chest and heat was licking every inch of exposed skin on my body, I thought maybe it was an emergency.
“This is mortifying,” I muttered, turning my face into Thatcher’s shirt. “You told me you love me, and I’m ruining our moment.”
He rested his chin against my temple. “You’re safe in my arms, Reagan. Nothing could ruin this. In fact,” he teased, “I’m kind of wondering if I can keep you hooked up to one of these machines permanently. I like knowing what you’re thinking about.” His voice was a low rumble that reached deep into my gut, lighting me up in places that had no business being lit, given that I felt about as sexy as a newborn kitten.
The monitor began bleating like a Vegas slot machine hitting the jackpot.
Thatcher burst into laughter. He caught my jaw in one strong hand and kissed my forehead. “God, I love you,” he murmured. “It’s my privilege to come here and be the one to take care of you, Reagan Wellbridge. Do you understand? I never want you to have to handle anything alone again. I’m a bad bet, but I’m selfish enough to let you make it.” He trailed his lips down my forehead to my cheek, then my ear, still wet from my tears.
I swallowed hard. “I…I love you, too,” I said seriously.
“Yeah?” He closed his eyes and blew out a relieved breath. “Thank fuck. I told myself not to expect you to say it back. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks?—”
Predictably, seeing Thatcher vulnerable made me melt. “Weeks? Ha. I’ve been into you since… a possibly illegal number of years ago,” I admitted.
“Reeeeally.” He blinked. “Really?”
“Yes! How could you not know?”
“Baby, before you, it never would have occurred to me to look. I spent a long time keeping my focus on the things I thought I could control. Then, on New Year’s Eve, I took a risk. I shaved my beard and hooked up with a masked man?—”
“The wrong man,” I pointed out, smiling despite the tears still leaking from my eyes.
“The absolute right man,” he corrected firmly. “Since then, I haven’t felt like I’m in control of a damn thing. It terrifies me, but I’ve never felt more whole. When I’m with you, I see all the things I never could before.”
“Blind spots,” I murmured, and although I really, really didn’t want to, just saying the words made me think of Layla and the upheaval that was going to cause for PennCo and for Thatcher himself. What would the investigation entail? “So what happens now?” I blurted.
“Well…” Thatcher settled back against the pillows and pulled me deeper into his arms. “I know I don’t want to live without you. I’d like to take you home with me and keep you there permanently?—”
“What?” I pulled back to stare at him. Was he talking about moving in together? How could we possibly do that while still keeping our relationship under wraps? It wasn’t like paparazzi stalked either of us constantly, but people would talk?—
“Shhh. Calm down, baby, or that heart monitor is going to catch fire. I won’t rush you into anything,” he promised, pulling me back down against him. “But you did ask.”
“I… I meant what was going to happen to Layla,” I muttered. Despite my illness and the layers of hospital antiseptic on both of us, I caught the tang of his cologne and burrowed more deeply into his side.
“Oh. That.” Thatcher’s fingertips stroked up and down my arm. “Well, hopefully she went home like I told her to. If she’s still here, I’m pretty sure McGee will call security. But if you mean in general…”
I nodded against his rib cage.
“I’m going to follow HR’s lead from this point on, but I made it clear that I want Layla out as soon as possible,” he said unequivocally. “There’s no room for someone with her attitude at Pennington. In the meantime, January’s making sure her security badge and login credentials are frozen, pending the results of the investigation, and she’s suspended with pay effective immediately.”
“Whoa,” I breathed. “Just like that?” I lifted my head to gaze into his dark eyes. “How much did I miss while I was out? Did you see the slide deck Terrance sent me? And did you talk to Alena yourself? Because Layla was right—someone else investigating this might look at the facts and think it was me. Alena’s the only person who can really tie Layla to it, and she’s loyal to her boss, so maybe?—”
