The cop in him conjured up a variety of worst-case scenarios. Scenarios he didn’t want to see or worry about.
Keep it together, Ryan. He drew in a deep breath, reining in his emotions to analyze only the facts. And he didn’t have many. All the way to the hospital, no matter how much his truck slid on the roads, his thoughts were all Tatum. Was she okay? Was she hurt? Scared?
Dammit.
The truck slipped all over the road, so he kicked it into four-wheel drive and gunned it. By the time he reached the hospital, his fingers ached from his death grip on the steering wheel. He parked his truck and ran into the emergency room, flashing his badge.
“I’m looking for Tatum Buchanan.”
The nurse flipped through the list. “I’ll take you.” She stepped around the desk and led him past a row of curtained partitions. “She should be able to go home shortly. We just wanted to make sure her concussion isn’t too severe.”
That was good news. Not good enough to make him relax, but it was a start. “What happened?”
“Ice.” The nurse smiled at him. “We’ve had half a dozen accidents tonight and all of them were cars sliding on the ice. She was lucky, could have been a lot worse. The guy who hit her is in surgery.”
Spencer’s gut clenched. She was okay. She was okay. It would all be okay when he saw her. When he knew she was safe. It was hard to breathe.
“Aileen,” the nurse said. “The detective is here to see your patient, Tatum Buchanan.”
“Spencer?” He heard Tatum’s voice and turned. “What are you doing here?”
He stood frozen. She had a wide strip of gauze wound around her temple, her long blond curls pulled over her left shoulder. She looked fragile, small, in the bed. “Hey.” He moved to her without thought, pressing a hand along her cheek. “Where else would I be?” he asked, sitting on the side of her bed. “I would have been here earlier if I’d known.”
“I’m...I’m fine,” she said.
“That bandage around your head says otherwise.” His voice was garbled. She was okay. He reached for her, taking her hand in his. Feeling her, warm and soft, made it better. “Why were you on the roads?” he asked, willing himself to calm.
She swallowed, staring at their joined hands. “I...I needed something from the store.”
He frowned. “In the middle of an ice storm?”
“I didn’t know it was that bad.” Her voice was brittle. “Lesson learned.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He drew in a deep breath, focused on being calm. She didn’t know he’d been scared shitless. That the thought of something happening to her was... He swallowed, twining his fingers through hers. “You’re okay.”
She nodded, then winced.
He winced too, squeezing her hand in his.
“You didn’t need to come,” she murmured, softly. “How did you even know I was here?”
He needed to come. He had to come. He had no choice. And there was no way he was leaving. “Cop, remember. I’ve got connections.”
“Well, I’m fine. And you’re supposed to be working.” She tried to pull her hand from his, but he held tight. “Not babysitting.”
He held on to her hand, biting back all the words he wanted to say. But now wasn’t the time. She was in a hospital bed, for crying out loud. Not the best time to lay his heart on the line. It might be wrong to ask her to love him, but he had no choice. He loved her. He knew he always would.
“Miss Buchanan, once we get the doctor to sign off on your paperwork, you’re cleared to go.” The nurse smiled. “You shouldn’t be driving—”
“I’m pretty sure my car’s totaled,” Tatum teased, laughing softly.
He closed his eyes. He’d seen too many accidents and fatalities on nights like this. She was safe. And he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure she stayed that way. Seeing her here, wide-eyed and fragile, kicked his protective side into overdrive and his heart pumping. He cleared his throat and stood. “I’ll take her home.”
“Spencer—”
“I’m taking you home.” He couldn’t look at her, afraid she’d see just how close he was to breaking down. Whether it was his right or not, he needed to be with her.
13