Page 107 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

She climbed onto his lap. Her knees settled on either side of his thighs, and her arms came around his shoulders. She didn’t tell him she was sorry. She just held him.

Hudson closed his eyes.

He’d told the story to exactly three people in his life. His commanding officer. A military psychiatrist. Owen.

And now Sarah.

For a long moment his hands stayed useless at his sides. Then one found the middle of her back. The other followed, and he stopped waiting for the moment she’d let go.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Neither of them moved. It buzzed again.

Sarah lifted her head from his shoulder. For one selfish second, Hudson wanted her to ignore it. The thought caught him off guard. He’d never been a man who asked anyone to choose him over the job. He’d spent most of his adult life making sure nobody had to.

Sarah slid off his lap. Her hand lingered against his chest before she reached for the phone. She looked at the screen and the softness of the last twelve hours bled away. Her spine straightened.

She lifted the phone to her ear. “Speak to me, Walter.”

Hudson was already out of bed.

Sarah listened, one hand pushing damp hair back from her face, while he pulled on his cargo pants. “When?” A pause. “Okay. Keep me updated. We’re on our way.”

She ended the call but stared at the screen for a moment, a faint line appearing between her brows. “Cord had a cardiac event overnight. He’s stable, but the hospital can’t manage the level of care he needs. They’re transferring him to Providence.”

Hudson’s mind shifted gears. “By air?”

“Ground. The weather’s ruled out an air transfer.”

He reached for a clean shirt. “Who’s riding with him?”

Sarah shot him a sideways look. “I’m guessing you have dibs.”

He nodded. “The Anchorage office can take custody at Providence.”

“Assuming cardiology gives him back.” Her mouth flattened into a tense line.

“How soon?”

“I don’t know yet.” She set the phone down and shrugged out of his shirt. She pulled on her underwear and bra, then reached for the navy dress. She stepped into it, drew it up, then turned her back to him.

The zipper waited at the base of her spine.

Hudson crossed the room. Last night he’d drawn it down with shaking hands. This morning he pulled it up and tried not to think about goodbye. His fingers paused at the nape of her neck where damp wisps curled against her skin.

Sarah pulled on her boots then turned and cupped his face. “I need to go home and change. I can’t walk into the hospital wearing last night’s clothes.”

Hudson glanced down at the dress. “You look fine.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I’m wearing last night’s clothes.”

“I noticed.”

Her mouth twitched and her smile hit him somewhere dangerously soft.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Hudson covered one of her hands with his. “Okay.”

She kissed him, then reached for the door, her coat over her arm.