Yet there was comfort in this simple act of caring for him. He stayed quiet for most of it, watching her with an expression that made her pulse flutter. When she finished, she helped him into a clean T-shirt and shorts, and after he swung his legs up onto the bed, she adjusted the pillows behind him until he looked comfortable.
“There,” she said, stepping back to inspect her work. “Much better.”
He studied her for a long moment, his expression soft. “You know, this take-charge version of you is doing dangerous things to my heart.”
She smiled as she climbed onto the bed beside him, careful not to jar his shoulder. “Your heart’s safe with me. And the rest of you is on strict doctor’s orders.”
He gave a dramatic sigh but shifted enough for her to tuck herself against his uninjured side. Wrapped in the quiet tranquility of the room, with Rico now curled at their feet and Sean’s heartbeat beneath her ear, the fear of the day began to fade.
Before long, his breathing deepened, sleep claiming him.
Grace stayed where she was, listening to that steady rhythm and thanking God he was still there beside her.
“What the heck, stud muffin?”
Sean pulled the bedroom door shut behind him, careful not to let the latch click and wake Grace. The house had gone quiet after the long day, the kind of hush that followed too much adrenaline and too little sleep. Late-afternoon sunlight slanted through the living room windows in golden bands across the hardwood floor and area rug, and every bruise on his body made itself known as he crossed to the couch. The ache riding beneath his skin had sharpened since the adrenaline wore off, each step a reminder of how close he’d come to getting himself killed.
Suki’s call had yanked him out of the dead sleep he and Grace had fallen into, and the sharp edge in her voice was filled with concern. “I told you to antagonize the guy, not get run over by him.”
“Trust me,” he said, lowering himself onto the couch with care. His ribs protested, and he shifted until the ache became manageable. “Getting run over was not in my playbook. But apparently, our UNSUB has a different one.”
She huffed through the phone. “Apparently. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” He glanced toward Rico, who sat in the recliner, glaring at him like Sean had committed a personal offense by claiming a piece of furniture. Clearly, the cat still hadn’t forgiven being evicted from the main bedroom. “But despite my bruises and road rash, we’re no closer to ID-ing this guy. Any new suggestions?”
“Yeah. Get eyes in the back of your head.”
A dry laugh erupted. That was Suki—equal parts of brilliance and sarcasm. He’d take the comic relief where he could get it, though, especially with his nerves still humming from the attack. The image of the vehicle bearing down on him flashed through his mind, followed by the sickening crunch of impact. He shoved it aside.
“I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
The doorbell rang, sharp in the stillness. Rico bolted off the recliner and tore down the hall toward the spare bedroom. Sean pushed to his feet with a muttered breath and crossed to the front door, peering through the peephole.
Of course.
He unlocked it and pulled it open. “Suki, I’ll call you back later. My oldest brother is here with his very pregnant wife... after I told them not to come.”
“Don’t blame me.” KC brushed past him as Sean disconnected the call, while Moriah stood in the doorway, giving him a thorough once-over. Her sharp gaze cataloged every scrape and bruise visible beneath his shorts and T-shirt. Sean knew that look. She was assessing damage the same way Grace had at the hospital, except Moriah came with the full force of Malone family indignation.
“When your pregnant and hormonal wife demands to see her brother-in-law,” KC continued, “in the battered flesh, to reassure herself he’s okay, you hop to it.”
Sean lifted his hands and gave a slow turn, keeping his injured arm tucked against his side. Every movement pulled at the road rash and bruises, but he kept his face neutral. “I’m fine. See? I wasn’t lying to you earlier.”
Moriah rolled her eyes. “Stick it, both of you.” She went up on her toes and kissed Sean on the cheek. “Our baby only has two blood uncles, and he or she is not losing one of them to a deranged psycho if I have any say about it.”
The fierce concern in her voice got to him more than he cared to admit. The Malones had never mastered subtle worry. They showed up, hovered, and steamrolled any objections. Usually, it drove him up the wall.
Today, it reminded him how close things had come.
KC guided Moriah toward the recliner Rico had abandoned. “Trust me. The baby is due in two days. If I could’ve convinced Moriah you were okay, we’d still be up in Little Creek.”
Waving him off, she lowered herself into the chair. “Stop hovering. I’m pregnant, not a priceless antique.”
“Well, not an antique, but definitely priceless.”
Sean dropped back onto the couch, watching his sister-in-law’s expression soften at the compliment. KC might joke, but the guy worshipped the ground his wife walked on.
Moriah looked back at him. “Where’s Grace?”
