Page 69 of More Than My Hometown

That’s my biggest concern. Because if we’re dealing with a head injury…

My pulse skips, nurse brain taking over, trying to remind myself that Ewan is exceptionally coherent at the moment so the likelihood of a TBI is probably pretty slim. Then again, I’ve experienced patients participating in a full-on conversation with me one minute, and then be out cold the next, so never say never. I know better.

“I hit my ass. It’s my foot that fucking hurts. I laid down after the fact.”

Looking up at Landon, I search his eyes for confirmation that he’s thinking what I’m thinking. He nods, the two of us secretly agreeing that we aren’t going to need the backboard that he carried over here. A CT scan—without question, because mama here isn’t messing about—but I’m confident we’re not at risk for paralysis.

I turn back to Ewan, helping him sit up slowly. His face is still bright red, the pain clear as day, so I cup his cheek, hoping it offers a little comfort.

He places his hand over mine, holding it against his cheek. The contact is both soft and sharp, a weird mix of exciting and calming, making my racing pulse ease. Ewan is okay. Well, bruised and potentially broken, but overall okay.

“You fell through a hole in the boat.” I giggle. “Jace is going to have a field day with this, you know that, right? You’re about to become one of his what not to wear videos.”

Ewan rolls his eyes, letting out another very annoying noise. “Do we have to tell him?”

“I’d be willing to keep your secret, buddy,” Landon says as he lifts Ewan’s injured leg out of the fish box and rests it on a rolled-up towel. The disturbed ice settles underneath him, the crunching sound filling the air.

“Fuck!” Ewan’s curse is sharp and loud, no doubt from the pain the movement caused.

“But this is gonna require X-rays, so we’re gonna have to carry you outta here and⁠—”

“You’re not carrying me anywhere. I’m fine.”

Excuse you?!

I shoot him a look. “I don’t think so. You are going to listen to the medical professionals.”

“I’m fine,” he reiterates.

The fuck you are…

“Best I can offer is to hold you up and let you hop your way to the ambulance so we can—” Landon starts.

“Absolutely not. Just wrap it up and it’ll be fine. We can go after the tournament is over.”

Fire rises in me. I know this man is stubborn—it’s how we’ve gotten ourselves into many situations in the past. Including spending ten years apart. But if he thinks for one second that he’s going to get away with refusing medical treatment so that he can hang out at a fishing tournament… Well, Ewan Hayes—think again.

“The fuck we can.” My voice is louder than I intend, but I don’t care. Landon reels back, hands flying up in surrender, giving us space. “Your ass is going and it’s going now. Landon might be willing to make deals with you, but I am not. Is that understood?”

Ewan’s eyes darken, his mouth morphing into a smirk that a few minutes ago would have seemed impossible. Reaching for me, he wraps an arm around me, tugging me into him. I go willingly, my heart so happy that all we’re dealing with is X-rays and a CT scan that I can’t even put it into words.

I collapse into him, burying my face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, and letting myself get lost in him. His breath tickles my skin, and I can tell he’s getting lost in our embrace as well.

“Okay, baby. Okay,” he whispers. Loosening his grip on me, he presses his lips to my forehead, making the knot I didn’t realize had formed in my chest unfurl. “Also, Mais?”

“Yeah?”

“I really love watching you in action.”