Page 99 of Givin' Me Fitz!

“Fitz Morgan. They said he’s in surgery.” I had no time for a homophobic nurse or whatever she was.

“Fitz.” I turned to see Hobie coming toward me. His shirt had blood on the front.

“What happened? Is he going to be okay?” My heart was racing.

“It was an accident, but he’ll be fine. They had to cauterize an artery and sew him up, but he’ll be able to go home today.”

Jagger walked up to us and stood next to me. “Oh, Hobie, this is Jagger, my work partner.” They greeted each other with a head nod.

“What happened?” I wasn’t asking again.

Hobie pulled me into the waiting room and pushed me into a chair. “We’re repairing the floor in the clubhouse, and Sawyer offered to help. He accidentally cut off his pinky finger on his left hand.”

“Did you bring it? They can probably reattach it.”Dear god, cut off his finger? What the fuck was he thinking?

“It—It was mangled by the saw. We couldn’t salvage it. Sorry, but he says he’s okay with it. He still wants to go to nursing school, and we worked out the issues with him and the club, so no worries.”

Hobie looked at Jagger and grinned. “Come on, I’ll take you to the clubhouse to pick up his truck.”

“Mr. Morgan, you can come back now. Your husband’s in a recovery room. He’d only allow them to give him a local, so he’ll be able to leave as soon as we get the paperwork done.” A nicer nurse smiled and headed down the hallway, so I followed her.

I was surprised to see Sawyer sitting up in a chair. His hand was bandaged, and he didn’t look as if he’d had surgery. Hell, he was still wearing his own clothes, though there was some blood on them.

He was looking down at his left hand and smiling. WTF?

“Sugar, what the hell?”

When our eyes met, my heart sped just as it had the first time I saw him. He was a beautiful man, and he was all mine.

“Circular saws are dangerous, but it’s okay. What do you really use a pinky finger for?” He had the nerve to laugh.

We waited an hour for the paperwork, and once everything was signed, we were allowed to leave.

Once I got him in the truck, I turned to him. “What the hell happened, and don’t lie to me. Better or worse.”

He leaned across the console and kissed me, likely to soften the blow of what he was about to say.

“Blood in. Blood out. It’s done.”

We rode in silence, and when we got back to the house, Sawyer sighed heavily. “I’m finally home.”

My eyes welled with tears. “Yes, Sawyer, we both are.”

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