36. Gage

Chapter Thirty-Six

GAGE

I leaned against my bedroom door, arms crossed, watching Wyatt shuffle stubbornly around the room like a mule who refused to stay in his pen. A week had passed since his release from the hospital, but his bruises had barely faded from angry purple to sickly gray and yellow. His stiff, robotic posture and the way he winced with every step told me he was still in plenty of pain.

I was no stranger to getting worked over, but Dominic had really done a number on him. If we hadn’t arrived when we did, I had no doubt he’d have killed Wyatt, leaving me to spend the rest of my life alone, haunted by the mystery of what happened. Whenever I thought of it, the rage I felt drove me half-crazy. The only thing keeping me sane was focusing all my energy on Wyatt’s recovery.

After all these years, he was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The bruises didn’t diminish him. If anything, they highlighted his strength. Wyatt wore his scars as proof of survival, not defeat. Even now, with his face marked and his jaw shadowed with a week’s beard growth, he was so handsome he took my breath away. His broad shoulders pulled at the bandages on his side with every movement, but they never slumped. They were strong enough to carry me through hell, just like he’d done the day we met.

God, how I wanted him.

“Bed,” I commanded, putting as much force into it as I could muster when all I wanted was to pull him into my arms and kiss those beloved lips until they softened.

To his credit, Wyatt didn’t startle, but the steady round-the-clock painkillers had dulled his reaction speed. He turned slowly, those dark eyes narrowing into thin slits. “I’m not a damn invalid.”

I straightened from my slouch and unfolded my arms, bracing for an argument. “You will be if you fall flat on your ass again. Then it’s back to the hospital. Is that what you want?”

He squared up with me like he was ready to go ten rounds, but the effect was ruined when he tottered and grabbed the bedpost for support. “I’m losing my mind just lying here,” he grumbled. “I need to move.”

I gave him a slow once-over, taking in the faint tremors in his thighs and the way his breathing was just a little too shallow. “You’ll move when the doctor says you’re ready. Now get back in bed before I put you there myself.”

Wyatt’s eyes twinkled at the challenge. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said, raising one eyebrow.

“You sure about that?” I stepped forward, cracking my knuckles for effect. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder like a sack of rice and tuck you in myself.”

Wyatt’s mouth twitched, but he suppressed it, like he thought laughing would hurt my feelings. We were evenly matched physically, but he had the gravitas of densely packed muscle I never would. “Go ahead,” he taunted. “Try me.”

I didn’t hesitate. One second, I was leaning against the door, and the next, I had my arms locked under his legs and back, ready to lift.

“Okay, okay! You win, dammit!” Wyatt shouted. His hands shot out to keep me at bay, and he hobbled toward the bed like it was his own idea all along.

I bit back a grin and followed, watching as he sank onto the mattress with a frustrated growl. “Still don’t think you could’ve done it,” he muttered, easing back against his stack of pillows with a wince.

“Once you’re better, we’ll hit the gym, and I’ll prove it,” I said, tugging the quilt up over his legs. He rolled his eyes, but I ignored him, smoothing the edges of my patchwork quilt like some overzealous nurse.

Wyatt watched me fuss, and his gaze softened with amusement. “You’re enjoying fussing, aren’t you?”

I snorted and retrieved an extra pillow he’d knocked to the floor, stuffing it beneath his knees to prop up his legs. “I’d enjoy it a lot more if my patient wasn’t so stubborn.”

He just leaned back against the mountain of pillows and sighed. His eyes fluttered shut, and the room fell silent, save for the occasional call of a cardinal from the oak outside my window. The soft drone of life at Eden drifted in from downstairs: the distant clatter of dishes, a burst of raucous teenage laughter, and the low murmur of Gideon’s voice.

Wyatt’s house would have been a calmer spot for healing, but the first few days had been so rough, I was afraid to leave him alone for even a second. Having Gideon or Loretta or even Mason to relieve me when I needed a shower or pharmacy run was a lifesaver. Besides, there was something reassuring about surrounding ourselves with life. We’d come so close to disaster.

I settled into a chair beside the bed, elbows on my knees, in the same perch I’d taken for the past week. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. I just didn’t trust his body to keep up with his stubborn streak.

I’d never had the chance to care for someone else like this. As the youngest of Boone’s adopted sons, I was the one everyone else watched over most. Looking out for someone else like they were the most precious thing in the world felt good. Better than I’d imagined.

As my mind drifted, something on the bedside table caught my eye. A colorful string bracelet, woven in mismatched neon and knotted unevenly, sat amid the organized chaos of pill bottles and cold cups of coffee. I picked it up, testing the strength of the scratchy threads, and dangled the bracelet between us.

“This yours?” I asked. “Didn’t peg you as the friendship bracelet type.”

Wyatt half-opened one eye. “One of the kids left it,” he said, smiling faintly. “They were up here the second you ran to the pharmacy, bouncing off the walls like they were on a mission to drive me crazy.”

I chuckled and shook my head, gently tying the twine around the wrist he had laying atop the quilt. “That’s what you get for being their favorite.”

“Favorite, my ass,” he said with a dry snort. “I think they were just making sure I wouldn’t keel over.”

“Yeah, well, considering most of them wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, I’d say they’re pretty invested,” I pointed out, lifting his hand and kissing the inside of his wrist. His pulse was strong and steady beneath my lips. “What’d you expect? You’re the one who placed most of them in the foster program. They’re just trying to pay back the care you gave ‘em.”

“I didn’t do it for payback,” he said wearily.

“I know.” I smiled. “That’s why they love you.”

He blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in my tone, and then looked away. His jaw tightened like he wasn’t sure what to do with the compliment. Typical Wyatt. He could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it.

“You know,” I continued, slipping my finger under the bracelet and stroking the inside of his wrist, “they probably just wanted to make sure you feel like part of this family. You’re not just the guy who drops kids off and disappears.”

Wyatt stared at the ceiling with a blank expression. Just when I thought he was about to brush it off or change the subject, he let out a slow breath and said, “I don’t know what the hell to do with that.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

His sigh was so heavy it felt like the room itself dipped under the weight. He shifted, withdrawing from my touch and resting his hand on his stomach, right above the bandages peeking out where his shirt had ridden up. Eventually, he admitted, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. Being a cop was all I ever wanted to do.”

“You’re still you, Wyatt,” I said, passing him a glass of water to clear his throat. “Still helping people. That doesn’t change just because you’re not wearing a badge.”

He chugged half the glass, throat bobbing, and didn’t answer right away. I reached out, adjusting the pillows behind his head, and my fingers brushed the edge of his bruised jaw. He turned toward the touch, so slightly I couldn’t be sure if he’d done it accidentally or on purpose, but it didn’t matter. My need to care for him, to touch him in small ways, was nearly insatiable.

“I liked being on the street,” he admitted quietly, breaking the silence. “Meeting people where they’re at, you know? It’s what kids like Ivy and JJ and Louis need, and what men like you need when your back’s against the wall. How am I supposed to help people from behind a desk?”

The vulnerability in his voice struck a chord in me. Wyatt wasn’t the kind of guy who doubted himself. At least, not out loud. Seeing him so uncertain was an honor, one I refused to cheapen with my own guilt and regret. Gideon had been right when we’d spoken in the kitchen; Wyatt had made his choice. As his partner, my job was to back his play.

Keeping my tone light, I asked, “What did Langford want earlier? He didn’t swing by just because Ben wanted to chat, did he?”

Wyatt’s mouth tightened, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Gage…”

I held up a hand, cutting him off before he felt compelled to say something he shouldn’t. “I’m not asking for details. I know you can’t talk about everything you were doing with that task force. I don’t need to know more. I trust you, baby.”

The tension in his shoulders eased, and he clasped my hand where it rested on the edge of the blanket, lifting my fingers to his lips.

“Langford offered me a job,” he said, lips brushing my knuckles. “Half the investigators for the AG are lawyers, but the other half are LEOs from various agencies. I’d fit right in.”

“How do you feel about it?” I asked carefully.

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t know. I’d still be helping people, but it’s not the same. I wouldn’t be out there getting my hands dirty, you know?”

I turned that over in my head for a few minutes, watching him, clocking his expression even when he tried to hide it. Sunlight filtered through the window, catching in the dark strands of his hair, now curling faintly at the edges from humidity.

“You could always help at Eden in your off time,” I suggested, toying with the curls at his nape. “Plenty of dirt here to go around.”

Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “That right?”

“Damn right,” I said, kissing him. “I might be learning to control my temper, but I could still use someone to keep me out of trouble. That goes double for the kids. Boone made a life out of making this place work, and the older I get, the more I appreciate how hard that must have been. It takes half a dozen of us to do what he did alone.”

Wyatt’s gaze softened. “The best fights are the ones you don’t have to face alone. I like the idea of cleaning up the rot in this parish and then coming home to help you here. Maybe it’s time I figure out how to build something instead of just cleaning up what’s already broken.”

“Keep talking like that, and I’m gonna think you’re the romantic in this relationship,” I teased.

He laughed. “I am.”

“Yeah, well…maybe it’s about time I gave you a run for your money.” My throat tightened, and I cleared it quickly, digging around in my pocket for the bottle I’d picked up from the pharmacy. I shook a pill into my palm and offered it to him. “Time for your meds, old man.”

“Keep calling me old man, and see what happens,” he muttered, popping the pill into his mouth and dry swallowing.

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.” I kissed his forehead, letting my lips linger on his warm skin. His lips twitched faintly, and I chased that smile with a featherlight kiss at the corners of his mouth. At the last moment, he turned his head, catching me in a deeper, longer kiss than I’d intended.

“Careful,” I murmured, pulling back to brush my thumb against the healing split in his lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never will,” Wyatt rasped.

“Never is a long time,” I said, smiling despite myself. “You sure about that?”

“We’ve got forever to find out.” Wyatt cupped my face, stroking my cheek and coaxing me down for another kiss. I allowed it, reveled in it, but when he tried to deepen the pressure, I pulled away. He growled, frustrated, and gripped me by the back of the neck, tugging me back down and slipping his tongue into my mouth.

“Mm.” I grunted and broke away, gently forcing him back against the pillows when he tried to chase me. “We’ve got forever, remember? No need to rush.”

“You’re a terrible nurse,” Wyatt muttered, giving me the evil eye.

“Better get used to it,” I shot back. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze stayed locked on mine for a moment longer, then he sighed and tipped his head back, gazing up at the ceiling until his eyes drifted closed. His mouth was flushed and tipped up at the corners in a lingering smile, and his whole body relaxed into the mattress.

I stayed where I was, watching him breathe, hypnotized by the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling.

Yeah, I was terrible at this. But I was learning. For him, I’d learn anything.