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Alex took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. He recognized her ‘settling herself’ mode and tightened his arm around her waist.
“He was pretty much ignoring me,” she said. “I guess he wasn’t worried about me because he’d hit my cast and could tell that he’d hurt me. He was going to kill Gideon, so I came up behind him and hit him in the head with the cast as hard as I could. He went to his knees but didn’t fall down, so I hit him again.”
The paramedic narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Didn’t that hurt like hell?”
“Yeah, it did. But it was either hurt my arm or let him kill Gideon.” She shrugged. “Not much of a choice.”
The woman stared at her for a few seconds, then examined the cast. Squeezed it, as if looking for movement. Gideon watched Alex and didn’t see her flinch or react in any way. So the paramedic wasn’t hurting her.
After visually examining every inch of the cast and checking Alex’s fingers sticking out of her cast, the woman slid it back into its sling. “I think everything’s fine. But if your arm hurts more a couple of hours from now than it did before you hit him, or if the cast feels unstable, or your fingers swell, go back to the ER immediately.”
“Thank you,” said Alex. “I’ll do that.”
Gideon slid his arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Yes, thank you,” he said. He nodded toward the cabin. “Your patient is a traitor to the country, and a worthless piece of crap on top of it. But I don’t want him to die. I want him to live a long life in a federal prison.”
The woman’s mouth curled up at one corner. “Got it.” She picked up the bag she’d been carrying and trotted toward the cabin.
“I’ll help you into the SUV, then go get our suitcases. Is that okay?” he asked Alex.
“That’s fine,” she said. “What a day this has been.”
“Yeah,” Gideon said with a sigh. “What else…”
She put her hand on his mouth. “Do not go there. Only good things are going to happen from now on.”
“You’re right,” he said, smiling at her. “Nothing but good things in our future.” God, he hoped that was true. As he tugged her closer, he pressed a kiss to her hair. Who would have known, when he’d posed as a hitman and Jerry hired him, that he’d come to care so much about his pretend victim?
He was aching to tell her just how much he cared, but that would have to wait. She’d broken her arm and faced off with two different sets of bad guys. All before using her cast to save his life. She didn’t need him dumping another emotional whammy on her. She needed to go home, get something to eat, then sleep for hours.
“C’mon, let’s get you in the car,” he murmured, tightening his arm around her. He helped her into the front seat, then snapped her seat belt in place. “I’ll be right out,” he promised. “Go ahead and close your eyes. We have a long drive back… to the compound.”
As he strode toward the cabin, he shook his head. He’d almost said back home. This wasn’t their home. It wasn’t even his home. With Kramer in custody and the evidence from Alex’s phone and Jerry’s files, he could get his job back with the FBI.
Is that really what you want?
He shoved the tiny voice away as he pushed into the cabin. The two paramedics had lifted Kramer onto the gurney. They’d started an IV and were preparing to roll him out to the ambulance.
Kramer’s eyes fluttered open. When he saw Gideon, he opened his mouth to say something. But the paramedics pushed him out the door and he grunted in pain as the gurney bumped over the threshold.
What had Kramer intended to say? Gideon had no idea.
And he didn’t care, he realized. A lightness he hadn’t felt since the day he’d been fired settled over him. He looked out the door and saw Alex. Her head rested against the seat back and her eyes were closed. He watched her for a long moment, his heart swelling.
No, his FBI job was no longer the most important thing in his life. Getting it back no longer consumed him.
For the first time in his life, a woman was more important than his job.
He couldn’t wait for the right moment to tell Alex.
* * *
Feeling the sunlight against her skin and not ready to open her eyes, Alex rolled over and searched for Gideon. When she couldn’t find him, she opened her eyes. Saw the rumpled sheet and the impression of a head in the other pillow, but Gideon was nowhere to be seen.
“Gideon?” she called. No answer.
So she sat up in bed and pushed her hair away from her face. Slid onto the floor and looked down at the yoga pants and tee shirt she wore. She had no memory of putting them on last night.
As she stared at the clothes, wondering if Gideon had dressed her, the door to the apartment opened. Someone walked in and closed the door, and she padded out to the living area to see if it was Gideon.
