Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

I shook my head. There was nothing more in the world that I wanted than to see her eyes and talk to her. Maybe even say something stupid and make her laugh. But it would have been the selfish choice, and I was done taking that road.

It had already cost me too much.

“No but thank you.”

She nodded and gave me a soft, motherly smile, before turning and leaving the room. I watched Gemma sleep and somewhere along the way, I drifted back to sleep myself.

The next time I woke up, the cast of characters had changed significantly. This time, Gemma was joined by Agent Montgomery and Gary with the FAA.

“Aw, shucks guys, you didn’t have to throw me a party,” I muttered, giving the two stern looking men my best smile.

Gemma sighed. “Aaron, I tried to tell them to leave you alone, but—”

“It’s okay, baby. I want to know what’s going on.”

She nodded and came around to take a seat on the edge of the bed. I gave her my hand and then turned my attention to the two men as the hovered near the foot of my bed. “All right, guys, spill.”

Agent Montgomery began, after a quick glance with Gary, “First of all, while we are happy you’ll make a great recovery, we do need to let you know O’Keefe will not. He and Mr. Giovanni were both killed in the ambush. The rest is up to the FBI.”

“Wow, I didn’t—” My heart ached. Because of O’Keefe’s greed—more people had to die.

“I’m not sure how this helps right now,” Gemma muttered.

“Wait,” I interjected before she could get too fierce in her defense of me, although I had a feeling she was angry with me for my actions. “In hind sight, it was a completely moronic and selfish move. But I got so caught up in O’Keefe’s bragging and threats—I just wanted him to suffer. But I’m sorry someone else had to die.”

The two men seemed surprised and exchanged another quick glance. Gary cleared his throat. “We’ve concluded our investigation and the museum is cleared to reopen for business as soon as you’re able. All of the evidence we retrieved has been turned over to the FBI who will be in charge of Mr. O’Keefe’s estate.”

“Thank you,” I replied, nodding at him. We may not have always seen eye to eye, but I was thankful he’d always listened. While he was gruff, he had never been rude or derogatory to me, even when I’d been running my mouth like a spoiled teenager. “I appreciate your help. Hell, without your findings, I’d probably still be blaming myself for everything that happened that night.” But, even as I said it, the emotions of the crash came back. The intensity had faded with time, but there was a small part of me that knew I would always carry some kernel of guilt over Talia’s death.

Gemma squeezed my hand.

Agent Montgomery gave us both a curt nod. “We wish you the best and will be in touch if further assistance is needed.”

Gemma waved as the two men turned and left the room. Once the door was closed, she lay back against the sliver of bed not occupied by my body and tucked her head against my shoulder. She let out a long sigh, vocalizing the way I felt as I watched them leave.

“All right, I guess it’s your turn now,” I said to her, mentally bracing for a reaming.

“My turn for what?”

“To rip me a new asshole about how stupid I was for showing O’Keefe the wire and going rogue.”

“Honestly? I probably would have done the same thing.”

I chuckled, surprised at her reply. “You really are perfect, aren’t you?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Far from it, but I do have a bit of a temper. I don’t know…maybe you’ve noticed?”

“Nah.” I shook my head and then dropped a kiss to the side of her head, breathing in the gentle floral scent of her shampoo.

“So, what now?” Gemma asked, propping her chin on my chest and turning her eyes up toward mine.

“Well, first thing on my to-do list is to get out of this place once and for all.”

“Good. Solid plan.”

I laughed. “Be straight with me. How long am I gonna be stuck in here?”

“That really depends…”

“On?”

She grinned. “On whether or not you’re going to behave yourself once you’re released. You’d already set the record of stitch popping from the first time you were in here. Now you have over twice as many stitches. I’m not sure I trust you to go home. At least not unsupervised.”

“You volunteering for the job?” I asked, twisting my fingertips through a stray strand of hair that had fallen from her loose ponytail.

“Ha! Lord knows I can’t keep you in line.”

“I think you can.”

She laughed softly. “We’ll see. It’ll probably be at least a few more days.”