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When Nurse Ratched looked my way, I offered up my most charming smile, and what do you know, she returned it.
“Looks that way. Your…friend”—she looked between us, and when neither of us corrected her, she smirked—“is doing really well considering what he’s been through.” As she went back to typing away on her computer, she asked, “Will you be the one taking care of him?”
My eyes flew to Panther, and just when he was about to open his mouth and likely tell her hell no, I did what I did best. I swooped in and took advantage of the hand just dealt to me.
“Yeah, that’s the plan. Our rooms are next door to one another back at the barracks, and I figured it’d be the smartest option.”
The nurse nodded and looked to Panther. “That sound about right to you?”
I eyed Panther, wondering if he’d try to contradict me. But when all he did was nod, I grinned. “See? We got this.”
“Hmm.” The nurse side-eyed me before turning her attention back to Panther. “This guy responsible? I don’t want to hear about any shenanigans once I set you free.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I could’ve sworn I saw Panther’s lips twitch, because let’s be real, the last thing anyone would call me was responsible. But again, he nodded.
“Okay. Well, if you can keep this all down and you’re still doing well tomorrow, I’m close to positive the doctor will sign your discharge papers. But you’re going to need someone with you around the clock for the next seventy-two hours at least. We want to make sure you’re tolerating the meds okay, sleeping okay, functioning okay. Do you understand?”
Panther locked eyes with me, and I wondered if he was thinking what I was. Seventy-two hours of mandatory confinement with one another sounded pretty fucking good right about now, after the last two days left wondering.
“Yeah, I understand,” he finally said. “And I have no doubt Solo will take great delight in keeping me in line.”
I knew Panther meant that in a purely caretaker role, but my dick heard it in a whole other light.
“Very good. Then I’ll get the doctor up to date and we’ll work on getting you out of here.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day.”
“You,” she said, looking to me. “Make sure those other two don’t rile him up when they get back. He needs to rest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She chuckled as she began to push her cart out of the room, and as she disappeared out the door, I heard, “How do you manage to charm even the most difficult of us?”
“Including yourself in that statement, Lieutenant Hughes?” I walked around the end of his bed until I was up by his head, and when Panther turned to look at me, I saw a kind of…wonder in his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess I am. I was determined not to like you with your I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, but…”
“But?”
Panther’s bloodshot eyes fell to my mouth, and he sighed. “When you weren’t here, I—”
When Panther cut himself off, I placed a hand on the rail and leaned over him. “Don’t you dare stop there. You…?”
Panther licked his lips as though trying to decide whether or not to admit what he was thinking. “I really wished you were.”
My heart all but stopped. It was honest, raw, and so unexpected that I wanted to kick myself in the ass for having stayed away. What the hell had I been thinking, leaving him here alone to deal with all this shit—because I’d been, what, scared? How the hell must he have felt?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and leaned down until my forehead rested against his. “I was busy being a fucking idiot.”
When Panther chuckled, I raised my head and stroked my fingers down his cheek. “But I’m done now, and you’re stuck with me. Seventy-two hours of forced confinement. Think you can handle it?”
Panther reached up to take my hand and squeezed my fingers. “I ejected out of a plane plummeting to the ocean at a million miles per hour and survived. I’m pretty sure I can handle being stuck with you for three days.”
“You sure about that?”
Panther grinned and then let out a half cough, half chuckle. “I don’t know. But I’m looking forward to finding out.”
5 Panther
THE TAXI DRIVER pulled into my parking space in front of my temporary apartment on base, and it was then that I realized I’d completely forgotten about my motorcycle still sitting all by its lonesome at NAFTA.
“I would’ve driven that sweet ride of yours back here if I didn’t think you’d castrate me for touching it.” Solo gave me a crooked smile, handed the driver a wad of cash, and then rounded the cab before I could pop open my door.
“Uh ah,” Solo said, as he reached behind me to help lift me out of the back seat. “You’re not supposed to do anything physical, and that includes opening doors.”
