Page 34 of Rogue Survivor
“You ought to go meet Elmore, then. She’d be happy as a pig in shit to have you show Hardison how it’s done. We’ll be back in the mornin’. Captain Stone gets updates every four hours, so anythin’ happens, he’ll be here in a New York minute.”
“I thought he lived out in bumfuck somewhere?”
Billings sobers and shakes his head. “He does. Damn fool keeps an apartment in town he uses Monday through Thursday nights. Goes home on the weekends. I reckon the ranch has too many memories for him day to day. But he won’t give it up.” With a final frown, the man says his farewell.
My phone buzzes when he and McGrath leave, and the exterior sensors on the doors and windows flash orange, then green. Locked up tight. Two red blips in the alcove, two in Veronica’s room, and one in mine. Whoever set up this system is fucking brilliant, and I make a mental note to tell Zephyr about it when I talk to her. The last update I got wasn’t good. She still hadn’t managed to breach the hospital’s firewalls, and from the number of four-letter words in her text message, she’s pissed as hell about it.
Stretching out in bed after brushing my teeth, I stare at the ceiling. As exhausted as I am, I should have been asleep in seconds. Not wondering how Isabel’s doing. Not wracking my brain for anything I didn’t already tell Zephyr and AJ about the man who tried to kill Veronica. Not hoping that when this is all over, I’ll have a chance to woo the strong, funny, beautiful woman on the other side of the wall. And maybe, find the family I never knew I wanted.
The thudand pained cry from the next room have me out of bed in an instant. “Isabel?” I don’t think. Just race to their door and knock—hard. “Open up, darlin’. I need to know you’re okay.”
Elmore—a petite blond with fire in her blue eyes—rushes into the hall, her hand resting on her holstered weapon.
As I reach for the knob, Isabel opens the door. “We’re fine,” she says, her chest heaving in a purple tank that molds to her breasts in a way I shouldn’t notice. And then I meet her gaze and see the bright red mark on her jaw. “What happened?” I drag a knuckle just under the subtle swelling, and she shies away from my touch.
“Veronica couldn’t get comfortable. And, well…” Isabel huffs. “Cast meet face.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” the teen says. She sits up in bed and tugs at her Ruth Bader Ginsburg t-shirt. “I forgot you were right next to me.”
“I know, baby girl. It’s fine. But I’ll sleep on the couch the rest of the night. I know that’s what you wanted anyway.” Isabel offers her daughter a smile. “No more smothering until the morning.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Hunching her shoulders, Veronica adds, “This bed just isn’t…mine. And I want to bend my leg. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Dig your fingers into your upper thigh.” I meet Veronica’s gaze, and her eyes widen. Shit. I’m not wearing a shirt. Just my boxer shorts. Taking a step to the side so at leastsomeof me is hidden by Isabel’s body, I add, “On the outside of your leg. As hard as you can. It’ll help.”
“Cool.” She starts poking under the blankets and when she finds the right spot, the relief on her face is obvious. “You should be a physical therapist, dude.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m not that sadistic. My PT made me cry once or twice. Reckon he was trained by the devil himself.”
From behind me, Elmore clears her throat. “I’m gonna make a pot of coffee and go back to teaching Hardison how to swear in sign language. He’s determined to master at least a dozen of the more…colorfulphrases by morning.”
Veronica’s eyes light up. “I want to learn—”
“You need to sleep,” Isabel says. “And if I don’t let you swear with your voice, what makes you think I’ll let you do so with your hands?” She stalks over to the suitcase lying open on the floor, rummages inside, and comes back with a pair of thick socks and a sweatshirt before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Veronica’s forehead. “Get some rest, baby girl. And enjoy having the bed all to yourself.”
“‘Night, Mom. I’m really sorry.”
After Isabel steps into the hall and shuts the door, I offer her my hand. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, darlin’. Come with me. You’re takin’ the bed. I’ll be fine in the living room.”
She tries to pull away, but I hold tight until she glares at me with what I can only describe as the “perfect mom stare.”
“Connor, you were up all night in the hospital. I caught at least a few hours off and on. I willnottake your bed.”
“It’s not my bed. It’s yours. I’m only here until the morning. The couch’ll be just fine.” Leading her into the second bedroom, I pull back the blankets and stare down at her until she sighs and tosses the sweatshirt and socks next to the pillow.
“Fine. I’ll sleep in the bed. On one condition.” Hands on her hips, she challenges me with a wicked smile. “We share it.”
My mouth opens and closes like I’m a fish out of water, and my boxers are suddenly tight enough, my dick starts to ache. “Don’t get me wrong, darlin’. Ain’t much I want more than you in my bed. But—”
“We’ll keep the door open,” she says. “I need to be able to hear Veronica. But we’re adults, Connor. We can sleep in the same bed without…foolin’ around.”
Swallowing hard, I angle my body in such a way Ihopeshe can’t see how aroused I am. Though from the way her nipples pebble under that tank...
Stop it. She’s probably just cold. And you’re an ass for staring at her chest.
It takes everything I have to force my gaze upwards, but the sight of her jaw swelling jerks me back to reality. “Yes, ma’am. But I’m getting you an ice pack for that bruise first.” I should have done that five minutes ago, and now, I need the brief separation to calm the fuck down. She’ll put a stop to this right quick if my dick gets much harder and all I want is to be close to her—all night.
When I come back, she’s sitting with her back against the plain wooden headboard, rubbing her jaw gently. “She got me good.”
