“What’d you guys do, send out a memo?” Nick asked, still trying to avoid laughing.
“It seemed appropriate,” Ty said. He held up a bouquet of cookies on sticks, all of them in the shape of baby bottles, shoes, and bonnets, then set it down on the table next to Nick. The vase read “For the Little One.”
Owen tapped Nick’s foot, then gestured between him and Kelly. “You two got some ’splainin’ to do, Lucy.”
Nick’s stomach dropped. “Who told you?”
“Doc couldn’t stop pacing in the waiting room. Finally, he just blurted out that he needed a hug because he loved you and he was freaking out.”
Nick managed a warm smile. “You okay with it?”
Owen nodded, pursing his lips. “Okay enough to provide hugs in waiting rooms, I guess. I’ll reserve my final judgment for the whole story. Assuming I’m going to get it?”
Nick nodded. Digger wrapped an arm around Owen’s shoulders and patted his chest like he was proud of him.
Kelly chuckled. He held to Nick’s hand tighter. “When Nick can have a beer again, we’ll sit you down and explain all you want.”
Owen seemed satisfied with that. Nick found his throat getting tighter. He no longer had any secrets from any of them. His conscience was clear again, and it was a massive weight off his mind and soul. All he could do was nod and blink back tears of relief.
The only thing that didn’t fit the theme was the gift Zane had brought him. It was a box of shotgun shells, the right kind for Nick’s Ithaca 37 pump action. They were green-tipped, though, with little radioactive symbols etched on them.
“Zombie rounds,” Zane told him, tongue in cheek. “In case you came out of the surgery mostly dead.”
This time Nick laughed even though it hurt. He held to his side gingerly, trying to keep from laughing harder. “These should come in handy, Garrett. Thanks.”
“I also brought you season one of The Walking Dead. We’ll sit and watch while you recover.”
“Is this . . . zombie bonding?” Ty asked.
Nick grinned up at Zane, nodding. “A man after my own heart.”
“I thought zombies were after brains,” Kelly said wryly. He pointed at Zane. “You stay away from his heart, that’s mine.”
The group chuckled. Nick rolled his eyes and closed them again, still smiling. And while he could hear the others shuffling around and murmuring quietly, he couldn’t force his eyes back open. “Thanks for coming guys. I’m sorry I can’t . . . stay.”
Kelly’s hand came to rest on his forehead again, then slipped down to cover his eyes so he’d stop struggling to try to open them. “They’ll be back when you’re not out of it, okay? Sleep.”
Each visitor came up to the bed and gave Nick some sort of touch before leaving, whether it was a kiss on the forehead from his sisters, a squeeze of the shoulder from Owen, or a gentle fist bump from his nephew. They all seemed to know what the contact would mean to him regardless of whether he could drag his eyes open to see them again. Ty leaned over him and hugged him tightly, pressing his cheek to Nick’s and calling him brother, telling him he loved him. Zane petted his head affectionately.
He heard them file out until the room felt empty.
Kelly’s fingers drifted down his arm, making Nick smile. “The surgery went well,” Kelly told him. “Your dad’s in ICU, but he’s doing fine. They’ll be bringing him in here later on, so don’t be surprised if he shows up.”
Nick nodded. He could honestly say that he didn’t care how his dad was doing. He’d done everything in his power to give him a fighting chance, and the man was on his own from now on. Nick was done with him. He squeezed Kelly’s hand and took a deep, painful breath.
“Did you really mean it when you said you were done carrying a gun?” Kelly whispered.
Nick forced one eye open. A frown marred Kelly’s features, and his eyes were sad and sympathetic. He leaned closer to Nick.
“I don’t want you to give up something you love because of me. And I’m worried that’s what you’re doing.”
Nick forced both tired eyes open and blinked hard, trying to keep them from watering. “Kelly.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Kelly asked. “Because in a few months you’ll be mostly healed up. In a year you’ll be whole again. The Boston PD would take you back in a heartbeat, and you’re one hell of a detective. You’re a better detective than you were a Marine, and Nick, that’s saying something because you were one hell of a f**king Marine.”
“Doc.”
“That’s saying a hell of a thing, you know? And you don’t just give up on something you’re that good at, Nick, you don’t.”
“Kels.”
“You’ve always liked your job. And you love a mystery. You’re not happy without a mystery to solve.”
“You’re a mystery,” Nick said. He reached up to trail his fingertips down Kelly’s face. “I’d have you.”
Kelly snorted.
“I want us to start something, Kels. You and me. Something we’ll live through. Something we’ll grow old doing. We can’t do that if I’m a cop.”
Kelly bit his lip, and his eyes were just as misty as Nick’s. “Are you sure?”
Nick didn’t answer. He was staring at Kelly, completely smitten, wondering why it had taken him so f**king long to realize he loved the man.
“I’d do anything with you, Kels. Anything you wanted.”
Kelly grasped Nick’s face in his hands. “I’ve been trying to figure something out. You see, I can tell you I love you, and it’s the same words I’ve always said to you from the first day I realized you’d have my back in a firefight. I love you, brother. Those are the same words I say to Six and Digger and Ozone. You know? They were the same words I said to Eli the last time he called. They were the same words my parents said the night they left and died in the rain.”
“Kelly,” Nick managed to say as tears began to fall for some reason. He pressed his hand to Kelly’s cheek. A tear hit his thumb and he realized they were both crying.
“But I don’t understand why those are the same words I have to use for a feeling that’s not the same anymore,” Kelly continued, his voice lower, more intimate and more confused. “I . . . I need you. I adore you. I want to wake up every morning and make you fix me breakfast so I can watch you cook. I want to . . . I want to spend the rest of my life with you doing things that make life worth living. I want to make you smile. I want you to take me to every baseball stadium out there and teach me every single little thing you know about the game because I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about it. I want to . . . what words do I use for this feeling if ‘I love you’ has already been used?”