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She shook her head in exasperation. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
He peeked over the edge at her cast. “Yours is prettier than mine.”
She gripped his hand tight. “What a pair we make.”
“Come on,” he said, sliding over and angling himself onto one side. “You need to get off that ankle.”
“You take up the whole bed, you big brute. I can’t fit in it.”
“Course you can.” He gently tugged her down beside him, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. Their corresponding casts bumped a bit, their legs tangling in the awful hospital gowns, and they both laughed at their awkward fit, but fit they did.
“Beatrice told me your surgery went well,” she informed him. “The kneecap was damaged and split into several pieces due to the bullet, but you’re lucky. They inserted a few pins and wires and saved it. You can still walk without a kneecap but your leg will be stronger with it. Once, that is, we get you healed.” She was already creating a therapy program for him in her mind.
“And your ankle?”
“Full fracture, I’m afraid. I’ll be in this”—she pointed to her cast—“approximately as long as you’ll be in yours.”
“But you’re okay otherwise?”
She stroked his face, the flashbacks of not only the previous evening but the night of her attack had plagued her in and out of sleep. “I’m definitely not cut out to be a SEAL or spy. When I saw Chad shoot you—”
Her voice hiccupped. He brushed her forehead with a kiss. “You were amazing. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”
She cradled his face in both hands. “I love you.”
He kissed her lips this time. “I don’t know why,” he said when they broke apart. “Though I’m sure glad you do.”
She poked his ribs. “This is where you say, I love you, too, Amelia. More than anything and I want you to—”
The next kiss cut off her words and she laughed into his mouth.
“I didn’t have this scripted,” he said. “But it’s better than anything I could have imagined.”
“Scripted? What are you talking about?”
A knock sounded on the door. Beatrice and Vivi peeked their heads in, bringing the delicious smells of coffee and donuts with them. Hannah followed, her arm in a sling. She ordered the agents with her to stay in the hall.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Beatrice scolded Amelia. “I thought having you in the same room would be enough to appease you.”
It should have been, but Amelia needed this closeness. To touch Rory and make sure he was alive and safe. “Couldn’t help myself.”
“She’s exactly where she needs to be,” Rory growled, all trace of humor and accent gone.
“Two peas in a pod,” Vivi said with a wink at Beatrice.
Hannah leaned over and gave Amelia a light hug. “You know the guardrails can be lowered and we can push the beds together so you don’t have to cram yourselves into one.”
Rory’s arm tightened around her. “Mind your own damn business.”
With her good hand, Hannah flipped him off with a laugh. “I wanted to thank both of you. Cohen’s going to be fine.”
“And how are you?” Amelia asked.
She glanced between her sling and wrapped wrist. “I’ve been better, but the upside? I get to lord it over Dad. Ha! His daughter took a bullet, not him.”
“Masden still going to be part of your team?” Rory asked.
“He’s already ordering the other temporary agents around. Can you believe it?” She offered a frustrated sigh. “The bullet missed his major organs but did nothing to soften his commandeering attitude.”
