“Hijole la madre, youfuckingscared me,” he nearly shouts, crying as he kisses Colt’s smoke-blackened hair, then continues to search him.
“I’m okay, babe. I promise. You told me to bring my thickest long sleeve, and that Carhartt shit is really good, you know?” he says, touching his forehead to Joaquin.
The rest of the crew, including Sparrow, are momentarily sidetracked by the clear display of non-platonic affection between Joaquin and Colt.
Only Justin and Jason have continued to address the diminishing flames, struggling under the weight of the hose. Shaking off the distraction, Charlie and Erik run over to help them, putting out the last structure fires as the tank finally runs out of water.
I refocus on my men, and my heart twists in my chest. I think back to our conversation…God, was that just last night? They both look up at me, and I fall to my knees, burying my face in Colt’s neck.
I despair at the hesitation in his body, then nearly weep with relief when two sets of arms bring me in.
Let them love you, Wick.
Okay, Renée. I will.
Tears spill in earnest. I hold on to them for a few more precious seconds, then chuckle to myself.
“What’s so funny?” Colt asks, kissing my cheeks and my nose.
“If I were observing this, I’d be the one to tell us to break it up and stop making a spectacle of ourselves.”
Joaquin’s low, sexy rumble of a laugh makes my heart skip a beat. “We probably should show a little dignity. At least in front of my son.”
Colt chuckles. “You do know that we’re nearly the same age, right?”
“Yes,” Joaquin says, standing with me as we help Colt to his feet. “But there are things I want to do to you that I don’t want to do to my son.”
Sparrow, standing a little more closely than any of us realizes, curses. “Pá.Jesucristo.”
Joaquin laughs and grabs his son by the back of his neck, bringing them forehead to forehead. “I cannot believe you did that. I would have never recovered if I’d lost you.”
He pulls Sparrow into a hug, and they embrace for several seconds, whispering to each other in Spanish.
I turn to Colt, who seems to be breathing normally. “I’m taking you to the ER, and I don’t want any shit about it. Smoke inhalation can be dangerous as fuck, and I’m not taking any chances with you.”
He takes a ragged breath, wiping his big paw across his soot-stained face. “Yeah, I’m not going to argue with you on that one.”
22
JOAQUIN
“You were smart to bring him in,” the ER doc says, looking down Colt’s throat. “He got lucky, no major burns and no damage to his airways. We’re still waiting on the X-rays. The lack of airway damage tells me he probably doesn't have any lung damage. Smoke inhalation, yes, but his oxygen levels are already back to normal, and his heart is in perfect working order.”
“So he's going to be okay?” Wick asks, a tremble in his voice.
“Yes, sir. He's going to need some cough drops, some soothing warm tea, and lots of rest. No smoking, no exertion.”
This is, of course, brilliant news. Just as I was leaving Sebastián’s exam room, he was joined by Luke and Ofelia, who were fussing and threatening him with bodily harm if he ever pulled a stunt like that again.
Refocusing on my men, I squeeze Wick’s shoulder, and he leans into me. I smile at Colt’s doctor. “We’ve got him.”
* * *
Wick opens the barn door,and I follow him in with Colt, my arm around his waist. He can walk just fine and, apparently, his smoke inhalation wasn't too bad, but I can't let go of him.
This could have been so much worse.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I check it.
