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That dark gaze cut to meet hers. A wariness settled in alongside the pain he couldn’t quite erase from his features.
“We got this. You hear me? You, me, all our friends. We’re all going to get you through it.”
Sean covered her hand with his and pressed his face more tightly to her palm. “Thanks, Daniela. Needed to hear that.”
“Any time. Now let me get that eye bandaged back up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled and got to work on his eye. “I could get used to that.”
He managed a more Sean-like smirk. “Prolly shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
He was quiet while she patched him up, and then he grasped her hand as she went to pull away. “Thanks, D. I mean it.”
“Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.” Crazy enough, that wasn’t just a line. She knew without question that Sean would give her his own blood if she needed it. He was one of the helpers, as Mr. Rogers called them. It was what her granny had told her when her father had died in that accident. “Look for the helpers. You’ll always find people who are helping.” She’d never seen his television show before that, but she’d become a big fan after, because there was comfort in focusing on those trying to make a bad situation better. It was part of what made her want to become a nurse.
For a long moment, Sean ducked his chin. “You really believe that?”
Dani blinked, unable to figure out what he was talking about. Because the obvious topic was just too…impossible. But what else could it be? “Are you asking me if I believe you’d take care of me if I needed it?” He shrugged one big shoulder. It was all she could do to keep the what-the-fuck out of her expression. How could he even wonder? “Dude, just because you drive me batshit sometimes doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re a fundamentally good person.”
His uninjured eye flashed up to hers again. And there was a question there. Like he was assessing her sincerity. “Okay,” he said, dropping his head back against the pillow.
Dani wanted to probe this, wanted to push. Had she been so much of a bitch to him that he could question such a thing? Fuck.
That line of inquiry reminded her that she still owed him an apology. So, yeah, maybe she had. She inhaled to give it to him, but found his eye closed again. And she didn’t know if he was asleep or just closing her out.
Nor did she know why the latter possibility settled such a big rock of regret in her belly.
* * *
Sean was pretty damn close to vomiting his guts all over the place by the time Dani parked behind his rowhouse on 13th Street.
Every little bump and pothole had been like someone punching him in the chest, and that was to say nothing of what the glare of the bright summer sun and the movement of the car did to his head. Hugging a blanket to his chest that Dani had in her trunk, Sean swallowed down the sour taste of threatening upchuck. “I…think I’ll…just stay right here.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s get you inside and you’ll feel so much better.”
“Not your fault, D,” he managed, because the last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad for a single solitary thing, not after a twenty-four-hour period that began with him hitting her too hard and ended with her spending the night and all of today in his hospital room looking out for him. Hearing her on the phone with Mo to get him to drop her car at the hospital reminded Sean that she’d even ridden in the ambulance with him, something his brain only had a hazy recollection of. So she had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Jesus, he was the one who should be apologizing given how his trade-mark bad luck had exploded all over whatever her plans for the weekend might’ve been.
He pushed open his door and tried to hide his grimace at the ridiculous amount of discomfort such a little action created. For fuck sake.
“Sit still and let me help you.” She rushed out of the car and around to his side, then crouched in his open doorway. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”
“I can do it,” he said. No way did he want her hauling his ass out of the car. Not that he doubted she was capable of it, especially knowing some of the stories from her days doing tactical critical care evac. Like how, once, her Black Hawk had been shot down, killing the co-pilot and injuring the rest of the personnel on board, including her. Dani had singlehandedly hauled all of them away from the burning wreck and administered medical care with the assistance of another medic who had a broken ankle. And when the crash finally attracted insurgents to their location, she issued covering fire so that the injured medic could continue to treat the others until backup arrived.
