One nodded, and she headed off through an ER room filled with as much law enforcement as doctors. Even the local sheriff was here—a tall blonde with high cheekbones and eyes that reminded Jen of someone she couldn’t place. The woman was giving two FBI agents serious grief about jurisdiction.
Jen was glad she wasn’t on the end of that one. She hurried past and down to room 214, where she found the door partially open. Caro lay in the bed, an IV line trailing from her arm to a bag of clear fluid hanging beside her. Her face was pale against the white pillow, but her eyes were open. A TV burbled high on the wall.
Jen knocked softly and pushed through. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey yourself.” Caro turned to face her. “They told me you were okay?”
“Bruised ribs. Nothing serious.” Jen crossed to the chair beside the bed. “What about you?”
“Fainted in the ER.” Caro gestured weakly at the IV. “Apparently my body decided enough was enough and just checked out. They want to keep me overnight. Make sure it’s just exhaustion, and not something worse.”
“That’s good they’re taking good care of you.” Jen took hold of Caro’s fingers and gave them a squeeze.
“I’ll be fine.” Caro’s smile was wan. “Just need fluids and twelve hours of unconsciousness after I’ve watched a few episodes of Dr. Kildare back to back. I should be discharged tomorrow.”
“What about Max?” Jen asked. “Have you heard anything?”
“Saw him on the way in.” Caro’s smile warmed. “Stitched up and already sweet-talking the nurses. He said to tell you, and I quote, ‘the Chief saved my arse with a fire extinguisher, and I’ll never let her forget it.’”
Jen exhaled. Max was okay. One more weight lifted.
Quiet fell between them.
“We made it,” Caro murmured.
“Yeah.” Jen’s throat was tight. “We did.”
“That man of yours is intense,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded.
Jen’s head snapped up. “He’s not?—”
“Please.” Caro opened her eyes fully. “Isawthat kiss.”
Heat crept up Jen’s neck. She didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Because Caro was right.
The door opened.
Wyatt.
Air caught in her throat, her vision blurring.He’s okay.
“Caro doing okay?” He stepped fully into the room.
This was the first time she’d seen him without adrenaline screaming through her veins, bullets flying, or time collapsing around them.
He’d cleaned up and somehow he wasn’t in hospital scrubs like she was. His brothers must have brought him fresh clothes because he’d changed—dark jeans and a gray henley that stretched across his shoulders. His hair was damp, pushed back from his forehead.
But it was his eyes that held her.
The same eyes that had found hers through scratched acrylic. The same ones that had stayed on her when he offered himself in her place.
He looked unreal. Like someone she’d imagined under pressure and wasn’t sure she was allowed to have in real life.
“I’m good,” Caro said. Her voice carried a smile. “Thanks to you two.”
Wyatt’s gaze landed on Jen.
She cleared her throat, re-engaged her brain. “How’s the leg?”
