After he left, Britt carefully dragged the chair from by the window and positioned it alongside the bed. Then she sat and took Joel’s hand in hers. Comparing his large hand to her smaller one, she thought about how well they fit together, how natural it felt. Her gaze lifted to rove over his face. He was pale beneath his tan, his hair a tousled mess. Used to seeing a strong, capable man, it was hard to fathom this helpless state.
She talked to him, though if anyone had asked her later what she’d said, she couldn’t have told them. At first, she’d started out watching his face, waiting for any sign he heard her voice. Then the last nurse who’d come in to check on him had turned off the sound on his heart monitor in case she wanted to sleep. She was surprised at how much she missed that steady, reassuring little beep. As the night wore on, she found herself watching the mesmerizing spike and drop of the little green line.
A noise registered on her consciousness and she blinked. Realizing she’d fallen asleep on the side of Joel’s bed, she sat up. Before she could lift her hands to rub her eyes, his fingers tightened on her right hand. Her gaze shot to his. Those golden-brown eyes were open and focused on her in the dim illumination from the light behind his bed.
She rose up, gripping his hand in hers as she leaned over the bed with a smile. “Hey.”
His lips moved, then his eyes closed. She didn’t catch what he’d said and leaned closer.
“What?”
“Scared.” The word rasped from between his dried lips as if his throat was coated in sandpaper. He coughed, frowned, and let out a low groan.
“Don’t talk,” she urged. “Everything is okay now.”
His grip tightened again. His eyes opened and searched her face, worry darkening the gold flecks she loved so much.
“You…screamed.”
“For you. I thought—” The emotion of that terrifying moment choked her voice. She laid her free hand against his stubble-covered jaw. “I’m fine. You had surgery and are going to be fine. You better be fine.”
“Giff…?”
“Randy’s in custody.”
Relief seemed to drain what little energy he had. His hand went slack and his eyes closed. No, not yet.
“Joel?”
His lashes lifted half-way.
“I just wanted to…well, I wanted to let you know…” His eyelids began to drift shut again. She was losing him. “I love you.”
The barest hint of a smile curved his mouth before his lashes rested against his cheeks. She waited a moment, then sunk down to the chair as disappointment flooded through her. Okay, she knew her timing sucked, and she shouldn’t have expected more than that, but damn it…she’d hoped.
She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and began to sit back. The moment her hand started to pull away, Joel’s wrist twisted, and his fingers gripped hers with unexpected strength. She stilled. As his hold remained, she smiled, and laid her head back on the side of the bed.
Chapter 35
God, he was tired. So tired, he just wanted to sleep until noon. And it felt like he’d been hit in the chest by a truck. The low, insistent beep of an alarm convinced him to open his eyes. His surroundings were so alien it took him a full minute to realize he was in a hospital. Worse than that, he had no clue how he’d gotten there.
A slow turn of his head to the left revealed his ‘alarm’ was a heart monitor. He turned his head toward the sunlit windows and paused at the sight of his father dozing in the chair next to the bed.
“Da-d?” His voice came out in a hoarse rasp, and no more than a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Dad?”
Jack Morgan sat up with a start. Worry lines around his mouth eased as he came to stand by the bed. “About time you woke up.”
“Why are you here?” he asked with confusion.
“You were shot.” His dad grasped his hand tight. “Don’t you remember?”
Explained why he hurt so bad. Joel stared straight ahead as the scene in the woods came back in a dizzying rush. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The last thing he remembered, Randy had been lifting his gun toward him and Brittany.
He’d heard gunshots. One from him, one from Randy. She’d screamed.
Please, God…no. He lifted his head. “Where’s Brittany? Please tell me she’s okay—”
His dad squeezed his hand. “She went to get something to eat.”