Page 140 of Now and Then

They pile in—Vinnie, Navy, Luke, Greer, Adam, and Grace—packing the room way past the visitor limit. Luke closes the door quickly before any nurses notice. The guys crowd around Hunter immediately, peppering him with questions.

“It was a freak accident,” Hunter says, launching into the story.

“You idiot.” Luke shakes his head and paces at the end of the hospital bed. “That was a huge fucking fire, Hunter, even for those of us who fight fire for a living. You had no business going back to that warehouse less than twenty-four hours after we put the damn thing out. That structure wasn’t stable, there were still hotspots, and God knows what kind of chemicals were lingering in the air. Hell, you shouldn’t have been there at all. Last I checked, you’re not a fire investigator.”

“Okay, Dad,” Hunter rasps.

“Hunter,” Luke’s voice clogs with sudden emotion.

Adam grips Luke’s shoulder.

“I think what he’s trying to say,” Vinnie says, “is let the fireman do fireman things, and you stick to doing cop things.”

“Technically, I was doing cop things,” Hunter says with a weak smile.

Luke drags a hand down his face, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. Well. Don’t make us plan your funeral just because you’re wanting to solve a case a little faster.”

The room goes quiet.

“I wasn’t trying to be some kind of hotshot. Donelly said I could shadow him.” Hunter’s eyelids lift enough to find me. “And who knows what would have happened to him had I not been there.”

I swallow against the lump forming in my throat. The instinct to shoulder everything is a feeling I know all too well.

“I’m sure he’s grateful,” Grace says.

“Knock, knock,” the nurse says, tapping lightly on the door. She peeks in, eyes narrowing. “There are more of you than the last time I came in.”

Everyone tosses out bogus excuses at the same time.

“As interesting as this all is,” the nurse says, “visiting hours are over, and Hunter needs to rest.”

Everyone gives Hunter a light hug or a fist bump. Luke pauses longest, gripping Hunter’s ankle through the blanket. “Don’t scare us like that again,” he says quietly. “Sutton, we’ll be in the lobby.” Then he’s gone.

The room settles. Machines hum. Hunter’s breathing evens out. I sink back into the chair, fingers finding his. His thumb curls against my palm, even half-asleep. I lower my head to our joined hands.

“You can’t do that again,” I whisper. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, eyes still closed.

A calmness filters through my body. Because I trust him, even if trusting him feels like stepping off a cliff. Because the real risk isn’t in the fire, the falling beams, or burns or broken arms. It’s here, in letting myself care this much, letting myself love him, letting go completely and risking the part of me that could break if I ever lose him.

“You’re still in trouble,” I whisper.

“You said that already.” His eyes open, mischief flickering through the fatigue. “Can it be the naked kind?”

“I swear, Hunter.”

He laughs, wincing slightly, and I straighten, brushing my thumb across his knuckles.

“Get some sleep, okay?” I kiss his hand.

“Love you, babe.”

“I love you too.”

I turn the lights off and glance back at him one last time before I leave his room. The soft glow from the monitor washes over his face.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”