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Jackson reached into his bag. “I’ll numb your arm and give you antibiotics. Once the lidocaine is working, I’ll clean and stitch that arm.” The medic glanced at Rachelle. “Cal’s not a fan of needles. Distracting him while I work will make my job easier.”
Cal’s eyebrow rose as he stared at his friend.
Hmm. Guess Jackson was stretching the truth. Rachelle didn’t have the right to ask for the one thing she wanted. A long, soul-stealing kiss.
Cal shifted his attention back to her. “Talk to me.”
Not as good as a kiss, but she could do that. “About what?”
“Tell me about the terrorist attack from the beginning.”
Jackson swabbed Cal’s arm and readied a hypodermic needle.
Rachelle told him about the explosion that rocked the hotel, the gunfire, and screams inside and outside the building, the escape from the hotel, and the hospital. When she finished her tale, Cal asked her to go through it again. This time, he interrupted at several places to ask for details.
When she completed the telling a second time, he raised their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You’re incredible, Rachelle.”
“All I did was run and hide with my knees knocking the entire time.”
He shook his head. “You used your brain and thought through the options. You could have let fear paralyze you. Instead, you came up with a smart plan and went with it. When possible, you called for help.”
“Tim’s dead,” she whispered, her heart aching all over again at the loss of a good man.
“Because of your actions, you, Amy, and Eric are alive. You put yourself at risk to help them. Without you, Amy would have been captured by the terrorists. You used what you learned at Fortress.”
“I did what anyone else would do.”
“Most people look after themselves. You didn’t.”
Jackson returned to Cal’s side with a stool and sat. He pinched Cal’s arm. “Feel that?”
“Pressure only.”
“Perfect. Rachelle, snuggle up to Superman so he’s more relaxed.”
Not a hardship assignment as far as she was concerned. She glanced at Cal. “You don’t seem nervous about stitches.”
“I’m cringing on the inside.” Lips curving, he wrapped his uninjured arm around Rachelle’s shoulders and settled her against his chest. “Close your eyes and tell me something I don’t know about you.”
She frowned. “Are you trying to distract me?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “Close your eyes and pretend it is.”
Rachelle rested her head against Cal’s shoulder. “In the interest of preserving your superhero status, what do you want to know?”
“What’s your favorite type of food?”
“It’s a tossup between Italian and Mexican. What’s yours?”
“Steak and baked potato. Favorite type of movies?”
“Action adventure with a romance thread.”
His hold around her tightened. “Chick flicks?”
