Safe Heart (Dreamspun Desires Book 102)

by Amy Lane

  The stretcher got there before much longer, and Cash followed Glen to triage and then to a local clinic. They gave Glen the good drugs and flushed out his wound, then stitched up the crease left in his bicep and dosed him with antibiotics.

  Damien had arrived while the doctor was still suturing, and with complete disregard for protocol—since these guys were just those assholes—he barged into the curtained cubicle.

  “You’re going to spread an infection!” the doctor protested in Spanish, and Damien grunted.

  “That wound has already seen my germs and rejected them. Don’t worry about it—me and this idiot have antibodies for each other. It’s medical, it has to be.”

  Cash gave a semihysterical chuckle. “What’s the sitch?”

  Damien snorted. “Listen to you—one successful op and you’re all with the spy lingo now. Cool your jets, junior. We’re not ready for you to run missions while you’re on tour or anything, okay?”

  Cash shrugged, straight-faced. “I would totally do that for you guys too.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, because then we’d have to come bail you out, and you guys would have less time to bang like bison in the resort hotel of your choice. Speaking of which, Brielle told me to book you two in a resort hotel with a spa and a hot-rock massage on her dime. Do you know that girl has had her credit card number memorized for the past six months? When she realized she was trapped, she started to recite it to herself before she went to bed at night, in case she ever got out?”

  Cash’s eyes went wide. “Where is she now?”

  Damien’s exuberance faded. “Another rehab center—this one in LA. I called your manager, and he arranged it. Apparently all the rock stars go there—I guess they took care of the guys from Outbreak Monkey when it was their turn. Spencer’s flying her there right now.”

  Cash’s heart contracted. “She left?” Oh God—all this time, all this trouble! And his best friend was still gone?

  “They’d been dosing her with Quaaludes daily, Cash,” Damien told him gently. “She needs the full-court-rehabilitation press right now, or she will never be okay. Spence told me he’d get her set with a cell phone before he left LA., and you guys will be able to visit on your way back home.”

  Cash swallowed the lump in his throat. “Goddammit. Glen, I… I should have trusted you from the get-go—”

  “Wasn’t your fault,” Glen said softly; then he sucked air in through his teeth as the doctor kept stitching. “Nobody could have done more than you’ve done.”

  “And she knows it,” Damien reassured, all sober compassion. “She said so as she boarded the plane. And all those other kids know it too. All but a couple were placed by the time Spencer left with Brielle. The others are going to stay in a local hotel while they wait for parents or guardians or friends.”

  “Bad guys?” Glen asked, and he sounded completely disinterested.

  Cash grabbed his hand.

  “All still alive, can you believe that funky bullshit?”

  Glen stared at him. “No—for real?”

  “For real,” Damien said. “But John Barron is going to be in traction in prison awaiting trial and/or extradition for many, many months. He also has quite a concussion—one of those ones that leak spinal fluid? We suspect he may have a headache for a couple of months before they try surgery to correct it.”

  “That’s horrible!” Cash exclaimed, and Glen released his hand to rub a gentle thumb over Cash’s lip, his nose, his cheekbone. The staff had checked him out too, as Glen had gotten his wound irrigated, and he had a butterfly bandage over one eye. Suddenly he felt every ache, every strained muscle, every bruise, from earlier in the day, and he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

  “I’m good with that,” Glen said, meeting his eyes. “Not exactly off scot-free, is it?”

  “Nope,” Damien said, sounding cheerful about it. “It is not. The authorities got the local talent out of the water—some of them had cut-up feet and needed a whole lot of tetanus shots from that crap they dumped in the ocean, and I’m going to chalk that up to karma. The rest of Barron’s mercenary crew are either in the jail infirmary or just in jail.” Damien’s chuckle was back to full wicked strength. “Two broken wrists, a broken nose, and another concussion. Not bad, Gecko—you’re almost an action hero!”

  “Almost?” Glen said indignantly. “What do I have to do to get my action-hero card?”

  Damien waggled his eyebrows. “Get your love interest and have a Happy Ever After.”

  Cash chuckled, weary to his bones. “Give us a couple of days.” He scowled playfully at Damien. “And no witnesses.”

  Damien laughed unrepentantly. “Roger that. Spencer’s going to come back for me and Preston tomorrow, and you two lovebirds might end up flying home commercial. Can you handle that?”

  “I could always fly that bubblegum, electric-toothbrush thing you used to get us off the island. Holy crapburgers, Damien—I thought we’d covered everything under brave and stupid, right up until I realized I was climbing a rope ladder into that aircraft.”

  Damien grimaced then. “Well, you could fly it back, if it still ran. Seems I sort of blew out the motor and twisted the steering.”

  “Where’d you get that thing anyway?” Cash asked.

  “I’m saying!” Glen nodded to the doctor who was wiping down his stitched wound with a topical anesthetic and antibiotic ointment. “We gave you, what? Four-hour’s notice, and that’s the best you could come up with?”

  “Part of that was time I spent flying that little nightmare to the goddamned island,” Damien said, folding his arms defensively. “And I got it from…,” he mumbled.

  “I didn’t hear you!” Cash sang, enjoying this moment in spite of the pain.

  “The guy who ran the taco stand,” Damien said a little louder. “I know you guys were asleep when we drove into town, but I saw it in the yard behind his place as we came in. You wouldn’t have seen it last night when you went for food,” he said to Cash. “Anyway, we owe that guy some money.”

  “That one’s on me,” Cash said, leaning his head on Glen’s shoulder. “I’m good for it.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Damien said, and Cash felt Glen’s kiss on the top of his hair. “You guys ready to go yet?”

  “The nurse will be in with medicine and care instructions,” the doctor said, going to the sink in the curtained cubicle to wash up. “She will have a card. Please call us if you need anything else.”

  He left, and Damien and Glen rolled their eyes. “Subsidized health care,” Damien said. “So easy. Go figure. Anyway, as soon as the nurse comes with your meds, I’m giving you a ride back to the hotel. I’ll take you guys to the resort tomorrow morning—it’s on the beach. You’ve got five days.” His voice softened. “You’ve earned it. Get your shit together for us, okay? Spencer, Elsie, and I are going to need some catch-up time after this.”

  “I could just come home—” Glen started, and before Cash could get upset, Damien leaned over and put his hand on Glen’s forehead.

  “Or you could man up and make this work. Cash isn’t scared anymore.” Damien’s eyes flickered to Cash, who nodded fiercely. “You shouldn’t be either.”

  Glen groaned. “Don’t you go talking sense now.”

  But he kept his arm around Cash’s shoulders until the nurse arrived.

  AN hour after they got back, after they’d both showered and Cash was still drying off, someone knocked at the door. Preston, delivering food, and Cash was so relieved to see him he almost cried.

  “Won’t you come in?” he begged. “I want to hear how you got away! They blindfolded me and drugged me and—”

  “And I gave Preacher’s lead to Brielle and told her to run,” Preston said pragmatically. He remained in the doorway. “They had guns, Cash. I’m sorry I left, but—”

  “But you had dogs,” Cash said. “You did exactly right. You got Brielle out of there and kept the dogs safe.” He gave Preston a crooked smile. “And you.”

&nb
sp; Preston sighed and pulled a package out from under his arm. “I went back, after we got Brielle to the authorities and met up at the beach. We left this between those tents we hid in. I thought you’d want it.” He flicked a look at Glen, who was standing over Cash’s shoulder. “It’s a present for you, so I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  Glen grimaced. “As am I, Preston.”

  “You and Damien—you lie with bullshit. I don’t like it. Why can’t you just tell me there’s danger, and then I can know!”

  “We don’t always know!” Glen protested. “It’s not like I woke up this morning and thought, ‘I should warn my brother I might get shot today!’”

  Preston scowled. “You’re both stupid. But he’s right—the really bad shit doesn’t happen when you fly together. You need to hire more people so you can fly together more.”

  “I can barely pay the pilots I’ve got—”

  “This made the news. You’ll get business. Hire more people.”

  “When you own the title to the business, Preston Echo, then you can tell me how to run—”

  “Bye, Preston!” Cash called, starting to close the door so the brothers couldn’t see each other. “Thanks for dinner. Hope to see you before you leave tomorrow. Say hi to the dogs for me!”

  He shut the door behind him and shuddered, then put the chain in the latch.

  “You did not let me finish,” Glen said.

  “You and Preston will never be finished.” Cash took a deep breath, feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones and blood. “I’m starving. You are probably in pain. Let’s eat. Let’s lie down on the bed and touch each other.”

  Glen attempted a cocky smile. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

  Cash gave him a stern look. “We’re not doing that until you and me have our lives hammered out. If we don’t act like grown-ups now, you’re going to treat this next week like some sort of fling. You’ll practically be kicking me out the door before we’re on the plane.”

  “Well, what do you plan for it to be?” Glen asked querulously.

  Cash took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and let the world settle around him. Preston had one thing right—there were a lot of words around Glen Echo, and a lot of bullshit. It was Cash’s job to cut through that for Glen, like Preston did for Damien.

  “I plan for it to be a beginning,” he said. “I plan for it to be a time when we figure out how we’re going to be an us. I plan for us to make it work. Can you do that?”

  Some of the irritated energy seeped out of Glen, and Cash got to see how tired he really was. This was the real Glen Echo too. Sure, he was the feisty guy who gave his brother and his friends ration upon ration of shit—but he was this guy too. The quiet guy who could take things seriously and who understood relationship work when someone handed him the manual.

  Cash took his silence to mean good things and cupped Glen’s cheek with a hand roughened by those frantic minutes on the damned rope ladder.

  “Can we do that?” he asked.

  Glen captured his hand and, wonder of wonders, pulled Cash in for a kiss. It wasn’t urgent—it wasn’t going to be, not after the day they’d had. But it was tender and sweet, and Cash opened his mouth and let Glen Echo love him.

  And trusted that it really could be love and that Glen was going to take care with the two of them to make sure that’s what they’d have.

  Glen pulled back and Cash nestled his head against Glen’s chest.

  “So,” Glen said finally, “you’re saying no sex after burritos.”

  “That should be a law,” Cash told him.

  “And then Spencer would spend the rest of his life in jail. Which is something we didn’t want to know.”

  Cash gave a short laugh. “Nope. I want to make love to you, Glen Echo. But I want us to be rested and happy and sure. I messed it up the first time. I don’t want you to have any worries this time. I want you to know when you fall asleep that I’ll be there when you wake up. I want us to have a plan for forever under our belts before we take them off.”

  Glen snorted. “That’s pretty poetry, Cash Harper. And I think we can make a start. But if you think I want you any less today than I did five months ago, you are sorely mistaken. Now, tonight—” He yawned. “Tonight might be a bad idea. But tomorrow, in a nice hotel room, after a good night’s sleep? I don’t care how much planning you want to do, you need to plan on us making love before it’s done.”

  Cash chuckled, his eyes burning from hearing Glen’s heart beat under his ear. “See?” he said, squeezing his eyes tight, “we already know how to compromise.”

  “Mm.” Glen tightened his arms around Cash’s shoulders. “As long as the bottom line is that I get you, I think we can do it.”

  The moment was sweet, but even sweetness like that had to give way to considerations like food and bed. They settled down to eat, and then Cash broke out the wool blanket. Glen grinned.

  “You went shopping for me in the middle of an op? I like this idea. I think that should be a law. Nobody on the team can go on the op if they’re not going to bring me back something cool.”

  “I think you’re insufferably catered to already,” Cash said, stripping the hotel comforter off the sheets and spreading the blanket on top. The bedspread was cotton but plain, and the blanket was like a gift for the both of them. “You dragged your friends out here into danger to cater to me—you should be buying them tchotchkes for life!”

  Glen chuckled, switched off the bathroom light, and came to the side of the bed. “They would not know what to do with me if I did that. I think the ration-of-shit technique is going to have to stay.”

  He wasn’t wearing a sling, just a bandage, but he was favoring the injured arm a lot, and Cash was glad they’d resolved on no sex. God, he looked good. Tired and battered but good. Cash needed a moment, a breather, to get used to the idea that he’d kept his promise to Brielle so he could spend all his energy keeping his promise to Glen.

  “I’m serious,” Cash said, crawling into the bed and holding the blankets open for Glen.

  “About tchotchkes? How can you be serious about tchotchkes?”

  Cash grunted. “You’re being impossible. How do I—we—pay your friends, your company, back for what they just did?”

  Glen yawned. “Your manager did that already,” he said. “When he told us to take Brielle to LA. on his dime. He’s already sent us a healthy fee. We didn’t even have to ask him.”

  “Glen—”

  Glen let out a breath. “Do you think Spence cares what he got paid for what we did today? Do you think Damie does? Or Preston? The money is nice—won’t lie. Money keeps the business going, and we do a lot of passenger work and freight work to that end. But… but this is our purpose, don’t you see? This is what we wanted to do most in the world, and we’re doing it.”

  “Can I help?” Cash asked, suddenly wanting it more than anything in the world. He backed into Glen as he had the night before—oh wow, was it only a day ago?—and Glen rewarded him with a hand resting on his hip.

  “You just did,” Glen said, yawning. He’d taken painkillers after dinner, and he was probably a little stoned.

  “No, I mean for real,” Cash said. “You guys fly, Preston has dogs—”

  “And you’re a pop star on the world stage,” Glen mumbled. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe I could take EMT classes,” Cash said, the idea taking root. “Maybe, when I’m not touring, I could be on your EMT team, and we could fly places together and help people and—”

  Glen snored softly behind him, and Cash had to chuckle. He remembered his father’s restless anger, his frustration at being tied down. His mother’s determination not to let her lovers or her child keep her from doing anything she wanted after that unhappy union.

  None of that had warned him of this ridiculous level of freedom, now that he’d committed himself. Nobody had ever told him that tying himself to Glen Echo would make him the fr
eest man on the planet, give him all the possibilities in the universe.

  How could he not know that love would set him free?

  Once More Forever

  GLEN was mortified about how much he slept the next day.

  Damien transported him and Cash and their stuff to the resort, which was only about twenty-five miles down the coast and every bit as swanky as Glen had imagined. Big airy terraces, finely threaded cotton sheets, wide windows that blew in the air from the bay.

  Damien had helped Cash drop their duffels in the entrance of their room and given Glen a fierce hug, being careful of the recently changed bandage.

  “No surfing until the doctor okays it,” he said seriously. “I’ll leave your dry suits at the desk, and you can rent boards on the beach.”

  “You’re seriously just going to leave us here?” Glen asked, affronted. “Commercial back?”

  Damien grimaced. “Elsie said she may come and get you in five days, but that’s because I got her and her boyfriend a room for a two-night stay.”

  “Are we made of money now?” His words to Cash notwithstanding, their usual fee didn’t exactly rake in the green.

  “Yes,” Damien said, surprising him. “The Mexican government gave us a hefty reward for dealing with polluters. I was very surprised and pleased. So we’re giving Elsie a gift for coming to get your sorry asses, and you and Cash get your first vacation since we started the damned business. You’re welcome.”

  “What about you?” Damien was as much a workaholic as he was. “You haven’t taken a vacation in the last five years either!”

  “Yeah, Gecko, but I’m gonna have a honeymoon next winter, so I’m saving up. Now you two eat, sleep, recover, and fuck like bunnies. Cash, I’m glad to have you with us. You might as well be married. If you run, I will hunt you down and tie you to the top of a plane.”

  Cash didn’t look frightened, or even fazed. “Understood, sir,” he said smartly. He gave Glen a soft look that made all of Glen’s parts go hard. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”