by Kaylea Cross
Numb inside, she took the stairs back down to the ER. Rafe was in surgery. The other man had been stabilized and was on his way up to the surgical floor where the police would question him.
She stopped in surprise when Noah appeared in front of her. “How is he?” he asked, his expression full of concern. The front of his tan uniform was spattered with blood.
“He’ll be in surgery for a while yet. Are you heading up to question the other suspect?”
Noah nodded. “In a bit.” His eyes were worried. “Are Jase’s chances good?”
“Depends on how much internal damage was done. What the hell happened, anyway?”
Noah cursed under his breath and took her by the arm to lead her into an adjoining hallway where it was quieter. “He chased them twenty miles east and rammed the back end of their car to force them off the road. Both drivers lost control and crashed into the trees.”
It made her cold all over just to imagine it. “They got out and started shooting at him?”
“Yeah, two against one. He used the driver’s side door for cover. Without his training, he’d have died out there. But he managed to hit them both center mass, even with a bullet in his belly. When I got there, he was on his knees on the road, still holding his pistol. I was a minute too late.”
Her throat closed up as though an invisible fist was choking her. Jase had gone after Rafe to protect her. Had willingly gone into harm’s way to end the threat and ensure she was safe.
Why the hell had she been too afraid to give him all of her? She loved him, and what was left of her heart would die with him if he didn’t make it. “I can’t lose him,” she choked out. “I can’t, Noah.”
Noah eased her into a comforting hug. “You won’t lose him. He won’t leave you after everything you guys have been through.”
Molly pushed out a shaky inhalation and returned the embrace, sending out a prayer for Jase. All she cared was that he pulled through the surgery.
Please let him come through this. I love him and I need him to hear me tell him so.
****
Jase slowly became aware of a blazing pain below his ribs as he came to. Oh, shit, that hurts.
He tensed, his brow puckering into a tight frown, his mind fighting to stay below the surface where the pain didn’t exist.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
He knew that voice. That sweet, slightly husky voice edged with the hint of a North Carolina drawl.
He turned his head toward it, forcing his heavy eyelids open. The sight of her leaning over him instantly made him relax, and the sharpest bite of the pain faded as he focused on her face, her pretty hazel eyes. “Moll,” he whispered, his throat sore and dry.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She bent closer to slide a hand beneath his nape, cradling it while she kissed him and pressed her cheek to his. Her sigh of relief gusted against his ear. “How do you feel?”
“Sore.” Weak. Tired. Glad to be alive.
“Yeah.” She straightened, smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “We’ve got meds in your line but I can’t up the dosage just yet.”
“’S okay.” He could handle the pain. Maybe. Hopefully.
“You thirsty?”
“Yes.”
“Here, I got you some ice chips. No water yet for a while.” She lifted a spoon to his mouth. The ice was cold and sweet on his tongue. It dissolved fast and didn’t do much to quench his thirst, but it was better than nothing.
She gave him three more then lowered the cup and spoon. “That’s it for now, sorry.”
He slid a hand down his chest to the edge of his ribcage, gingerly laid it on the bandages he could feel beneath the front of his hospital gown. “What’s the verdict?”
“Good news is, they stopped all the internal bleeding and got everything patched up.”
That was good news. “And the bad?”
“They had to remove a piece of your liver and a section of your small intestine, and your right kidney’s badly bruised and swollen from the shockwave of the bullet impact.”
“Oh. No wonder it hurts,” he said with a crooked smile.
She shook her head at him, her eyes sparkling. “No wonder. But the liver can regenerate, and you should be able to make a full recovery if you take it easy.” She gave him a stern look, raised one dark eyebrow.
“What about Rafe and the other shooter?”
Her expression sobered. “Rafe died on the table.”
Good. He hoped the bastard was frying in hell right now. “He fired first.”
“I know. Noah questioned the other guy. He tried to pin it all on Rafe, tried to make it seem like he was a helpless lackey, just along for the ride.”
Jase made a growling sound, then grimaced and covered his incision.
Molly gently captured his hand in hers. Her fingers were warm and soft. “You’re in the clear, legally speaking. All you have to do now is heal up.”
He searched her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Now that you’re awake and talking to me, I’m fine.” She leaned down to kiss him again, but this time she didn’t stop at just one on his mouth. Her lips traveled across his face, trailing kisses over every inch. “I was so scared when I saw you come in on that gurney,” she whispered against his cheek. “If you’d died, my heart would have died with you.”
He made a low, negative sound and opened his mouth to reassure her but she captured his face in her hands and the tear-bright intensity of her gaze made him silent.
She searched his eyes, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I don’t want you to take that job offer and move away. I love you, Jase. Love you so much I can’t handle the thought of you not being in my life.”
His heart swelled and rolled over in his chest. He gripped her wrist and squeezed, her admission meaning everything to him. “I’m not taking the job. I’ve loved you forever. It’s always been you, Moll.”
A watery laugh escaped her, then she kissed him on the lips. “You can’t make me cry again, dammit. I’m all cried out,” she said, but there was a catch in her voice. “This baby has already had way too many floods of cortisol in its system.”
Jase couldn’t stop, though. From the moment the bullet had hit him, he’d thought about her. What she meant to him, that she was his reason for living. He’d held onto that, even when he’d faded into unconsciousness. “I want to marry you and be this baby’s father,” he told her, reaching out his hand to place it on her swollen belly.
“Jase,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
“I know it’s fast, but I don’t care.” He’d almost died. To hell with waiting and being patient. “I want everything with you.”
Molly leaned in and gently rested her forehead on his. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jase. But only if you swear never to try to be a hero for me again.”
The stern edge to her voice made him smile. She’d said yes. She was going to be his forever. That made all the pain in the world worth it. “No promises, angel. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jase woke up in an empty bed to find a note sitting on Molly’s pillow.
Up and at ‘em, birthday boy. Get showered and dressed and meet me downstairs at ten.
A slow grin spread across his face. He sat up gingerly, placing a protective hand over the right side of his belly. He’d been home recuperating for almost two weeks now and was finally on the mend. The incisions had healed and the staples were long gone, but the surgeon had warned him that given the damage to his liver and bowel, he was facing a long recovery.
The house was so quiet. Had Molly left? It had rained nonstop for the past week but now bright fall sunshine flooded through the large windows overlooking the backyard, spilling over Molly’s king-sized bed. Their bed. Since coming home from the hospital she’d settled him upstairs with her for good.
Knowing she was truly safe now had made his recovery a lot easier. With all the media attention on Rafe and his cohort after the night Jase was sho
t, there was no way the Russian mafia would touch her now—a pregnant widow who’d had nothing to do with her late ex-husband’s debt.
Rafe had been the one desperate to get the money from Molly anyway, to cover his own ass, and now he was dead. His boss, Mick, had his hands full with the federal investigation the FBI had launched. He wasn’t coming after Molly either. No one was.
Which meant he and Molly could get on with their life together.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took his time getting to his feet. His insides still hurt, but as long as he moved slowly and was careful, it wasn’t too bad.
In the master bathroom he found a towel and facecloth already laid out for him on the quartz vanity, along with fresh clothes: jeans and a light cream sweater. What did Molly have up her sleeve? As soon as he could drag his ass around town by himself, he was going ring shopping. He planned to formally propose on Christmas Eve.
He brushed his teeth, pausing to look at himself in the mirror. Thirty-four years old. He almost hadn’t made it. Wouldn’t have made it if not for the quick, decisive action of Noah, Mac, Molly and the surgeon who saved his life.
The incisions slashed across his middle like an angry, lopsided purple cross. He’d lost enough weight so far during his recovery that all his clothes were loose, but he was getting stronger every day. Molly made sure he was eating three times a day, plus Poppy was always either coming by with treats from Whale’s Tale or sending them home with Molly.
It was nine-thirty, giving him plenty of time for a long, hot shower. Standing up straight was a luxury he now appreciated more than he used to, and made the most of it now while the water pounded down over his head and shoulders.
Drying off and getting dressed wasn’t quite so fun. Or easy. But he managed. Yay, him.
A sharp, familiar whistle from downstairs cut through the quiet.
Beck? “What the hell are you doing in my house?” Jase called through the master bedroom door.
“Molly asked me over, to make sure your crippled ass doesn’t fall down the stairs or something,” Beckett called back.
Jase huffed out a laugh and made his way out to the landing. Beckett stood at the base of the stairs. He held out his arms to Jase, grinning like an asshole. “Come on, Sergeant, you can do it,” he coaxed as though Jase was a toddler afraid of navigating the stairs.
“Shut up,” he muttered, and gingerly made his way down, tread by tread. By the time he reached the bottom, he was sweating.
“Good job. Proud of you.”
Jase didn’t have the breath to tell him to go screw himself.
A car honked outside in the driveway. Jase looked at Beckett. A sly grin lifted one side of his friend’s mouth. “She’s here.”
Molly?
Beckett grabbed Jase’s bomber jacket and thrust it at him. “Put this on. And this,” he added, shoving his grandpa’s newsboy flat cap at him.
“What’s she done?” Jase asked, obligingly putting on both treasured items.
“You’ll see.”
Jase shot him an amused look on the way to the front door. Beckett had his phone out and raised it to start filming. “Here’s the broken birthday boy on his big day. He’s got no idea what’s going on,” he narrated.
Jase grinned and opened the front door, wondering what they were up to.
Shock blasted through him when Beckett swung open the door and he saw what awaited him outside.
Molly was standing in front of a gorgeous, cobalt blue 1932 Ford, dressed in a blue polkadot 40s-style dress and red high heels. Her hair was pulled up at the front and sides, little spirals curling around her temples, and her lipstick was a bright, glossy red.
“Surprise,” she said with a huge smile. “Happy birthday.”
Jase couldn’t stop gawking at her. She was the sexiest pinup model he’d ever seen. “Oh my God, where did you find it?” he asked, shaking his head in wonder at her and the car.
“Found my outfit at a retro shop, and rented this baby from a man in Portland at a car show.” She patted the glossy, deep blue hood. “Don’t get too excited, I have to return it in the morning.” She cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow. “It’s a gorgeous day for a drive down the coast. Think you can handle a short cruise?”
“Hell yeah,” he said, starting down the front steps, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Molly was an awesome nurse, but the recovery had still sucked. On top of being in constant pain and unable to sleep well, being cooped up in the house this entire time had made him nuts. “I thought maybe you were gonna take me swing dancing.” He’d promised to teach her when he was better.
“Yeah, no. Swing dancing is gonna have to wait another few months at least.” Molly opened the passenger door for him and stood there with a sexy smile. “I’m driving, by the way.”
“I can live with that.” Jase slid his arms around her waist, his heart thumping at the way she looped hers around his neck and lifted up on tiptoe to kiss him. They hadn’t had sex since the day before he’d been shot. He hated that part of the recovery most, and couldn’t wait until he was up for it again, hopefully any day now if Molly would allow it.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered against her mouth. “This is the best present ever, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And you deserve it. It’s been a tough few weeks, so I figured getting you out for a while was the best medicine.”
Jase couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he eased onto the leather passenger seat. Molly shut the door for him and hurried around the hood, giving him an additional present of being able to watch her breasts bounce in her cute dress, the front of it stretched over her prominent baby bump. Sexy and adorable and all his.
He was the luckiest guy on the planet.
She slid behind the wheel and reached for the ignition, pausing to shoot him an excited grin. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Turn her over.”
She turned the key and the engine came to life with a satisfying growl.
“Is it the original engine?” Sounded like it.
“I knew you’d ask that, so I checked, and pretty much. The owner said the only thing not period specific is the paint color. Otherwise, he’s maintained it with mostly original parts he’s bought over the years.”
“It’s amazing.”
She looked pleased with herself. “Knew you’d like it.” She laughed as she put it in drive and looked through the windshield. “My God, this thing is like a tank. Beckett drove it back from Portland last night, I was too scared to drive it in the dark. And I didn’t realize there weren’t any seatbelts in it until I picked it up. I made Beckett take all the back roads instead of the freeway, because I felt like we were already risking our lives.”
Jase chuckled. “She’s a beauty.” The car eased forward, the tires crunching over the pea gravel driveway.
“I feel like we’ve just gone back in time,” she said, still smiling as they passed the trees still ablaze with the colors of fall, even the tall cedars filled with the rusty-orange parts on their branches. “Which reminds me, grab my phone and turn on the playlist I’ve got there.”
Jase fished her phone out, seeing that she’d made up a playlist of 40s tunes. He laughed. “You’re awesome.”
She grinned. “I wanted you to get the full effect.”
He hit play, and the resonant tones of Bing Crosby filled the interior. Instantly he was transported back to his grandparents’ farmhouse in Nebraska.
Feeling more alive than he had in weeks, he reached across for Molly’s hand, wound their fingers together and squeezed. “This is my best birthday ever,” he told her. Being with her like this was more than he’d ever imagined.
“Glad to hear it. Ready to cruise the strip? Got one more surprise for you before we head down the coast.”
“Sounds good.”
She took the long way into town and finally turned onto Front Street where the speed limit was only twenty miles per hour. People walking along the sidewalks in front o
f the shops and restaurants all stopped to stare at them as they drove past, and a few drivers honked in approval. Jase loved every second.
“Let’s see if I can park this old lady,” Molly said under her breath as she steered into a spot in front of Whale’s Tale.
“This is gonna sound weird, but it is so insanely hot to watch you drive this thing.” It would be even hotter to bend her over the hood, pull up her dress and slide into her from behind. Not that it was gonna happen, but it was fun to fantasize about.
She laughed and put it in park. “Glad you think so. Weirdo.”
He opened the door before she could come around to do it for him and slowly got out.
“Doing okay?” she asked, scanning his face with a nurse’s critical eye.
“Doing fantastic,” he murmured, tugging her close for a slow, thorough kiss. Yeah, he was in pain. He wasn’t letting it ruin this.
She smiled against his mouth and grasped his hand. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.”
He followed her into Whale’s Tale, a startled laugh coming from him when he saw his friends all standing there in period clothing. Poppy and Sierra both wore 40s dresses, Noah and Mac both wore zoot suits with fedoras, and Beckett had somehow arrived ahead of them, dressed in WWII Army summer khakis complete with a tie and cap.
“Happy birthday,” they all chorused at once.
Jase’s cheeks were starting to ache from smiling. “You guys look awesome,” he said with a laugh.
Beckett came up to slap him on the shoulder and shake his hand. “Happy birthday, Sergeant.”
The formal, respectful address made Jase’s throat tighten. “Thanks, Cap.” It had been a while since they’d served together in uniform, but the memories and the bond would always be there.
“Glad to see you up and about,” Noah said, shaking his hand next.
“Glad to be up and about.”
Mac grinned and held out his hand. “Happy birthday, wee man. Nice car.”
