AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Trace considered that as the jet taxied to a stop. Yeah, he did love her enough to change everything. He couldn’t lose her. He’d be condemning himself to live a half-life without her. His teammates were his second family and losing them would hurt. Losing Bridget, however, wasn’t an option.
But what if she could live with his job? The possibility he could have his job and the woman of his dreams glimmered just within his reach. He wanted it all.
Jake walked into the room with familiar canvas material in his hand. “We’re in Bayside. I’ll put your arm in a sling. I don’t want to jar your shoulder and cause more damage.”
Bridget stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled at Trace. “Hi.”
“Hi. We’re in Bayside for Doc Sorenson to check my shoulder and your sister.” Bridget, too, if Trace had his way.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Need help with Trace, Jake?”
The medic shook his head. “I’ve got it. You can freshen up before we leave the jet.”
Bridget dashed into the bathroom and shut the door.
Joe arrived. “What do you need?” he asked Jake.
“Help me sit him up. Go slow. Trace, let us do the work.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He knew the routine, had been on this end of the exercise more than once.
The men raised him to a sitting position. Joe kept his hand on Trace’s uninjured shoulder to steady him when he swayed.
The room spun for a moment before it settled. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t feel like barfing. Would have been embarrassing for Bridget to witness him throwing up.
“Okay?” Jake asked.
“Good enough.”
As they helped Trace to his feet, Bridget returned. She smiled when he was upright, leaning on Joe for support. “Now I believe you’ll recover,” she said.
“Let’s go. Sorenson’s men are waiting with the SUVs,” Joe said.
“What about Hugo?”
“He’s already off the plane and in the hands of the FBI. He won’t be a problem for anyone but them.”
Another knot in Trace’s stomach eased. The feds weren’t his favorite people aside from Rafe Torres, but they excelled at keeping terrorists under wraps. The wannabe crime boss wouldn’t slip through their grip.
Fifteen minutes later, they parked behind Sorenson’s clinic. Not a minute too soon. Trace’s face was bathed in sweat and his strength had disappeared. He’d be lucky not to face plant as soon as his feet hit the pavement.
Jake must have sensed his weakness because he practically carried Trace into the clinic and down the hall to the examination room. “Lay down before you pass out and scare your girl again,” he murmured.
Good idea. He eased down with the help of the medic. Relief was immediate. Okay. Trace could admit it. He was a card-carrying wuss. A little gunshot wound and he was as weak as a newborn foal. A soft hand cupped his cheek. Bridget. He’d know her touch anywhere. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“You’re better than okay. You’re perfect.”
“Wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would. You’re perfect for me.”
His smile widened. Wait. What did she say? His eyelids flew up. “What do you mean, I’m perfect for you?”
Bridget threaded her fingers through his hair, careful to avoid his injury. “I love you, Trace.”
His breath stilled in his lungs. “Are you sure?” Man, she had to be positive because if he let his heart believe those words, he’d never let her go.
“Oh, yes. I’m sure.”
