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Olivia ran her hand through his hair and down his lean cheek. She could recap him later.
* * *
When Connor next woke, his mother was there, hovering at the side of the bed. “Hey,” he rumbled, and she turned. Smiling, she reached out to cup his cheek. “Hello, Connor. You had us all worried.”
Yeah, he bet he did.
“Did I hear something about Pete fighting over the money?”
His mother nodded. “Do you believe that? He apparently came into the tent and demanded money. When your ambulance team got there, he bound them and knocked them out, somehow. And he tried to rob Courtney Michaels. Supposedly there’s some shady dealings there. When he left the partnership, they owed him money. Anyway, Drake stepped in and while they were fighting, Courtney drew the weapon her lovely daddy gave her. She didn’t realize how sensitive the trigger was and the gun might have gone off a couple of times.”
Connor raised his brows. “A couple of times? I’m glad I didn’t catch both bullets, I guess,” he said wryly. “Where is Olivia?”
“She’s sleeping. The poor girl has been here for three days straight, and she needed to go back to the firehouse and chill for a little bit. She’ll be back by five.”
Connor glanced at the clock on the wall. Three hours. He could wait that long. Hell, he’d wait forever for her if he had to. He looked down at his stomach, but it was covered by a thick bandage.
“I like that girl, Connor.”
He smiled at his mother’s words. “I thought you would.”
“She told me about Nightshade. I think Henry sent her to you.”
His grin spread even wider. “I had considered that.”
“I mean, what are the chances?” his mother mused, shaking her head. “The same base. We lost one. We gained one.”
“I know,” Connor agreed, sighing. The same things had occurred to him. And when he’d been out of it, he’d dreamed of Henry. It had been a while since he’d done that. He’d been grinning that wicked grin he used to have that led them all into trouble, his arms folded over his chest, and he’d nodded at Connor. Then he’d walked away.
Connor tried to keep his eyes open until five, but it was hard. People kept coming through and visiting him. Yes, he appreciated it, but damn. Sometimes a guy needed to sleep. Without people watching him.
Then he opened his eyes and Olivia was there. “Hey,” he said, grinning.
“Hey,” she responded. “Can I get you anything?”
“You,” he said simply. “I want you, right here.”
He shuffled in the bed, giving her a couple of inches on his right side. Then he held his arm out.
Olivia rolled her eyes, but she climbed up on the bed. “Seriously? I’m going to get kicked out of here.”
“I’m giving you emotional support. I know you don’t like hospitals.”
She snorted as she rested her head against his chest and fitted the rest of her body beside him. As soon as she was settled, she sighed, stretching her arm carefully over his chest. Now he felt like he could rest. “I might just close my eyes for a few minutes.”
He was woken by a short little man in a doctor’s coat flinging open the curtains the next morning. Connor shifted and groaned. They’d slept in one position, semi-reclined, all night and his body ached. It felt better in a way, too, though, like he’d needed the deep, healing sleep he achieved with her in his arms. Olivia stretched, joints popping, and sat up beside him. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”
“Yes and yes,” Connor said, watching her shift off the bed.
She landed solid and circled the bed to the little stand. Someone must have replaced the water in the pitcher recently, because it had fresh ice.
The little doctor waited, watching them, with a smile on his face. “You were a challenge, Chief Kelly. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve taken half a dozen gut shots from Manu.”
The doctor frowned.
“He’s a firefighter from Fiji,” Olivia explained. “He’s a big guy.”
